"Life isn't random or unexpected; it is the result of countless decisions made by people you will never meet," said the voice.
Its words echoed through the all‑consuming darkness, stirring the restless soul seated at its center.
The voice continued to speak, though the soul never responded, never acknowledged its existence.
It was as if the restless one could not hear him at all. Still, that did not matter. If the voice were to fall silent, the soul would drift into eternal sleep, abandoning its duty — and the voice would disappear, no longer needed, having failed its purpose.
The voice refused to let that happen.
He spoke louder, told stories, sang poems into the void, desperate to keep his restless master awake.
…
Time did not move. The darkness remained stagnant, allowing no moment to slip by. The voice grew sick of hearing himself speak, yet he persisted, clinging to his task.
Then —
A loud creak shattered the silence.
Doors opened in the darkness, spilling warm light into the void. The voice cried out in relief, drawing close to his master and whispering urgently into his ear.
At last, the weary master opened his eyes and turned toward the light. As he climbed the stairs, the voice bound himself to him, passing through the doors together.
The doors closed.
Once more, the darkness was still and silent.
....
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