John drifted within the void, his golden soul blazing like a sun. The majesty of his transformation still echoed in his thoughts. His essence glowed with royal brilliance, each pulse of light a declaration: he had mastered the Law of Freedom.
For the first time since death, he felt whole. Complete. Untouchable.
"This is unbelievable."
"Am I becoming an Eldritch horror?" he mused.
But then… he paused.
"Hmm… what's that?"
There was something else.
Deep within the current of the Law he had grasped, beneath the golden shine of his newfound power, John felt it—a faint tremor. Subtle, but undeniable. It wasn't the Law of Freedom itself, but something buried far deeper, as though the law was merely the surface of a vast ocean he had barely touched.
His soul quivered. "What… is this?"
The sensation was different from before. The Law of Freedom had been like a teacher, whispering truths as he explored it. But this… this was silent. Heavy. Infinite. It didn't whisper. It simply existed.
Then it struck him.
"This isn't just freedom as a law… this is freedom as a concept of reality."
The words echoed within his soul, and the golden light around him dimmed slightly, as if bowing to the enormity of the truth he had uncovered. The Law he had thought was boundless was, in truth, only a fragment—a doorway leading to something far more fundamental.
John shuddered, both in awe and in fear. "If the Law was difficult… then this… this will tear me apart."
Still, his essence surged with determination. He could not turn away. To stop here would be to live chained, even in his freedom.
He reached inward, touching that deeper resonance—
And instantly, chains clamped around him.
Illusion Trials
Endless illusions swallowed him whole.
He opened his eyes and found himself in a cage of molten iron, the bars stretching infinitely into the dark. No matter how he pushed or screamed, his strength meant nothing. His soul felt smaller than an insect, crushed beneath the weight of unseen laws.
Then the scene shattered.
Now he lived an entire lifetime on a world ruled by tyrants, born into slavery. His every choice stripped away—his words, his actions, even his thoughts punished. Decades passed in a heartbeat, each moment suffocating, until he screamed within himself: "This isn't me! I choose who I am!"
But before the words left his mouth, the world collapsed again.
He stood before an endless army, their faceless forms chanting in unison. He was forced to march in step, bound by an invisible rhythm. Whenever he tried to move differently, the chains of conformity crushed him. Thousands of years seemed to pass, every step identical, every thought devoured by the whole. His golden light dimmed until it was nearly extinguished.
"Fuuuccckk!!! What have I gotten myself into?!!!" John roared, pain twisting through him.
Again and again, the illusions consumed him. Lifetimes where he had no voice, no choice, no self. Lifetimes where freedom was nothing but a cruel illusion dangled before him, snatched away each time he reached for it.
Yet through it all, John clenched his essence, repeating through gritted teeth:
"I will be free… even if it takes an eternity."
The illusions shifted.
This time, he was offered freedom—served on a golden platter by gods and kings. He could have taken it, but something in his soul rejected it violently. If freedom can be given… then it can be taken away. That isn't freedom. That's permission.
One by one, the trials tore into him, but with each failure came clarity. His essence dimmed, cracked, then reignited brighter than before.
Until, at last… John understood.
Comprehension
In the void, as John's golden soul flickered weakly, he whispered. His voice was steady, unyielding.
"Freedom was never to be taken or given… it was always there. A right. The foundation beneath everything."
As if acknowledging his truth, the universe trembled. The chains shattered like dust. The illusions crumbled to nothing.
Then he felt it. Something changing—something vast and irreversible.
His golden soul began to burn, dissolving into radiant sparks. At first, he feared it was the end. But those sparks reassembled, stretching outward, spiraling, expanding… until his soul was no longer a sun, but a galaxy.
An ancient blackness formed the body of his soul, pure and infinite, with countless stars shimmering across it like living jewels. Nebulae swirled at his core, and his essence radiated the majesty of creation itself.
John stared at his new form and laughed breathlessly.
"I truly have become an Eldritch horror."
Getting Used to His Power
The void trembled around him. With every thought, space shifted. Stars flickered in response to his will, as though the galaxy within him had become the heart of all things.
He reached out, and reality bent. He pulled his hand back, and the void stilled. He was no longer a soul drifting helplessly in endless darkness—he was a concept embodied, a being of freedom itself.
For a long moment, John simply marveled at it.
Then, turning back toward the vast vein of the Law of Freedom, he bowed slightly.
"Thank you," he said softly.
And then he flew, his galaxy-soul streaking across the void.
He wondered where to go next. Countless possibilities unfolded before him, but then the thought struck—a memory from the boy he once was.
"I've always wanted to see a cultivation world."
So he did.
His perception stretched outward, expanding across galaxies upon galaxies. Threads of possibility burned into view, each representing a different destiny, a different universe. Until, at last, his vision locked on one—an entire galaxy steeped in the aura of cultivation.
"This is it," he said, smiling.
And as if he had always belonged there, his galaxy-soul flickered—
And John appeared before that world.