At the end, there was void—not darkness, but a consuming emptiness that held something more. I could feel it, not with my eyes or hands, but with something deeper, something that had no name. Within it, energy pulsed, vibrant and alive, though faint, as if it were hiding somewhere far beneath the surface. That energy connected me to something beyond the shadows, something that wasn’t darkness but wasn’t light either.

  It was familiar, comforting, like a thread I couldn’t see but could feel tugging at me, pulling me toward a place that felt like home and yet wasn’t.

  It wasn’t emptiness, nor was it fullness. It was everything and nothing—a moment without beginning or end, a state that defied time. And yet, within that vast, boundless expanse, there was shape. There was emotion. There was truth. A strange sensation lingered, not of complete void but of something left behind. A tether remained—not to the life and energy I had always known, so familiar and predictable, but to something new, something that kept me anchored.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  It was foreign, yet it felt natural, like an energy that existed outside the cycles I had always understood. It wasn’t bound to the patterns of nature, to the rhythms of life and death I had once taken for granted. It felt abnormal, unsettling, and yet undeniably real.

  Death had always been part of the cycle. Everything that lives must die, renewing itself, moving forward, carried on by the essence within. But this felt too soon. Unnecessary. As though there was still more to be done, more to give, more to carry forward.

  I wasn't anchored, yet I remained. Even if my essence no longer did, I was still here. Still tethered. Still waiting.