Chapter 2

I awake in a dark void, and take in my surroundings in confusion, I find myself in a void, bereft of even the smallest light, with a strange awareness of everything around me, or in this case. Lack of surroundings. Lacking even the virtual particles that are constantly generated and destroyed within space. Save for a small dot in front of me. Smaller than what should be physically possible. It seems to shine with an ethereal light, despite emitting no light or energy. And as I look at it, my mind turns white. 

But I do not lose consciousness again, the incredible light lasting mere milliseconds. Before my vision clears again to show a vast space of light and energy. Vast plumes of energy now fill the void. And entranced by the view my thoughts grind to a halt. As I watch the ethereal view. 

*timeskip*

Now what feels like years have passed. I have noticed in my time here the energy slowly spreading out into the void. Growing increasingly sparse. As the bath of formless energy begins to finally cool enough for quarks to merge into protons, neutrons, electrons, and their anti variants. Vast explosions periodically fill the nascent universe as quasars form and die. And I am once again thankful that my weakened emotions make boredom a similarly weak concept to me. As time flies by.

*timeskip*

As the millenia pass. My mind slows, my thoughts become sparse. And I will sometimes go centuries without a single conscious thought. As I simply watch the time pass before me. I have gone through all of the common stages of grief.

I denied the fact. Thinking this experience to simply be the last vestiges of my dying mind creating these images. But I am far too lucid for that. My mind too intact to be the illusions of my asphyxiated cells. 

Anger. Cursing whatever god condemned me to this hell. Forced to watch the millenia pass before my eyes. Incapable of interacting with the world at large. An unwilling observer.

Bargaining. Forcing upon my mind the notion that my suffering had a purpose. Maybe there was a lesson to be learned, a power to be gained, anything to justify my pain.

Depression, some may say that depression and acceptance are different, and depending on the context they are. As acceptance means you are happy, and have managed to enjoy your life, no matter the pain. But Depression is deeply rooted in acceptance, I have long accepted my predicament. But that does not change my suffering.

*timeskip*

Now the years pass like a river. Events blending together. And I am not ashamed to admit I have gone insane on a multitude of occasions. My mind falls into a spiral of nonsense, my thoughts a mess of gibberish, but given enough time I always recover. And I hate it.

*timeskip*

A̴̡̧̯̗̩͕̙̣͚̳͊̉̐̆̀͆͌Ḧ̸͇̬͗̋͊̏H̸̢̨̡̜̫̲̹̜̃̾͗̒͌̆̉͋̈́̐̇Ḩ̵̬̳͖͉̘̲̜̜̪͉͈̮̱̘̇̄ͅͅH̵̡̛̛̻̫̠́͐̈́̈́̾̀́̓̚̚͜H̶̢̡̛̙̬͔̻̞͖̲͉̦̼͊̐̅̈́̐̃̊͂̕͘͝H̴̥͍̥͎͓̯̜͍̞͎̬̼̳̦͖͎͕̄̆͜ͅH̵̛̛̙̰͈̠́̃̑͂̌͑͋͛̎͘͘͠H̸̯͚͕̃̅̈́̎̓͝Ḫ̴͎̜͉̰̺̬͚̬͎͈̦̹̖͑̈́̐̊͑͊͑͌͒̈͆͋̄̈́̄͑͠͝Ḩ̵̭̱̟͇̤͈̹͎͖̏͋̂̒̀̓̈͗̾̕͘͝͠H̴̩̺̺̪͐̈́̊̽̾̊̋̄̔̈́̽̕͝͝H̴̢̨̢̖͙̩̻̅́̐̈́͆̃̂̌͒͑͋̍͋͘͜͜ͅH̸̫̠̳̲̱͍̜̭̗̭͉̜͙͎͇̍͑͋͐̆̒̂̏͌̾̔͊̃͊͒̾̕Ḧ̶̨͕͉̮̘̱̗͓́̂̔̓̈́̒̉͝H̷̢̧͓̯͇̖̭͎̼̮̣̱̏̋̓̀̍̏̒͌̾̑̎̚H̸͈̓͛́͛̊̾̅̃́͝H̷̢͍͉̩̃̋̑́̏͆̐̽͐̀͂̔̉̾͜͝͝H̴̼̩̘̫̫͕̳͉̬͔͒͆̕͜Ḩ̸̢̨̲̬͓̻̳̹̲̦͕̈̎̎̇̓̏́̾͘͝Ḣ̶̝͙͎̤̙̏̾H̷̛̝̼͈̜̥̹͖̹̪̖̲̖̙̣̒͐̑̂̿̄̄̒̀̀̾̊̋́̕͜͝͠H̶̡̨̜̪̪̫̹̪͈͎͍͉̿-

*timeskip*

W̴͍̬̫̏̓̑̋̈́̓̚̕͠Ḩ̷̢̰̫̻̺̫͕͚͎͔̯̭̋̿̔͂̌̾̊̈́̍͜͝Y̵̡̦̝͔͉̝̺̜̳̫̘̦̦̰̯͊Y̴̧̢̝͈͈̲̥̯̰͕͎͌͑̉͐̃̑͛̄͛̌̒͠Ȳ̶̨̤͇͚̫̙̹͇͉̬͓͖̓̎̂͒̈Y̵̩̞̠͔̯͍̯̫͙̜̤͈͒̇̇͊͊ͅŸ̸̤͈͔̺͔͖͔̄̈̒̇̈̐͒̂͘̚͜͝Ỵ̸̨̥͍͓͉̰͓̬̙͎̫͌͊́̈̀̍͌̄͐̂̋̿͑͂Y̷̢̡̡͎̲͓̯̮̫͖̱̩̥̲͓̣̻͊̈̆̀̾̈́̃̔͑͂̀̕͠͝Ỳ̷̨̛͓̻̤̘̦͖̪̥̹͎̌̈́̒̀̀̔̒ͅY̵̨̹͙̰̜̹̘̭̖̫̘͉̱͚͖̺͆̍͝ͅY̴̡̛̫̖̙̼͉̭͎̟̪̺͎͚̝̖̋̒͊Y̷̡͔͇͕̳̯̼̣͖͇̌͝Y̵̢̨̧̛̩͍̳̜̦͇͖͔̼̥͆̓̐͑͌̅̋͛̒̽̌̋̚͘͝ͅY̷̢͕̼̗̫̣̩͍̗̪͙͉̘̖͔̩̎͆͆̅̈́̑Y̵̡̛̪̝̾̌̅̽̏̍͐͌͝Y̸͇̖̅Y̵̛̪̮͑̈́͒̄̐͆͂͝Ý̶̧̡̨̺̤̺̤̳͓͍̘̳̮͛́̈́͘͜͜͠Ý̷̻̮̖̠̫̖̗͉̖̙̫̔̏̆͒̃̇͜͝Y̶͕̹̻͈̼͔̟͕̞̹̻͒͋̈̐͛̑͐̐́̕͝Y̶̧̙͓͔̜͉͍͎̓́̈́̔̿̂̂̏͑̃̚͠Ỷ̷̟͖̰͚̳͉̳͙̬̼̰̫̆́͋

*timeskip*

(3rd person pov)

In the relative emptiness of space. Situated in a small corner of a solar system, but a tiny part of a large galaxy, itself a but a tiny part of its local group, itself a mere speck in the grand scheme of the universe. A small mass, darker than the void surrounding it, ripples lightly, silent as it watches, observing the world around it. Like it has for the last near 14 billion years. Although the entity itself is unaware of how long they have truly been here. When for the first time in its billions of years of loneliness a voice is heard.

"What is such a unique soul doing here?" an ethereal voice fills the void, not communicating any mortal language, but through pure concept. the silent entity flickering slightly, as its long inactive mind finally begins to grind to a start. The new experience prompted a resurfacing of its long silent ego. A slow process considering its millions of years of silence. Like starting an engine for the first time after decades in storage. And like an old computer it runs through all of its memories like files. Slowly recovering its understanding of the world. As its metaphorical attention is focused towards the new experience. It tries to speak, to respond, disappointed to remember its inability to interact with the world.

"You certainly are an oddity aren't you. Most mortal souls are sent through the cycle of reincarnation after their deaths. Their memories and experience stripped before they are reincarnated anew, but that obviously never happened to you. Why is that?"

The still recovering soul, confused by the concepts it has yet to recount. Dives into its memories. Billions of years of experience flying by until it finally settles on its beginnings, recounting its 19 years as a mortal all at once. Now but a tiny part of its long existence. As the meanings of concepts return to it. And it is once again saddened by the notion of its inability to communicate, when it is confused by the return of the voice.

"No need to be saddened. I can read your thoughts. So your lack of communication is a non issue. But what a unique thing you are. A lost soul, older even than this universe, condemned to venture the void for eternity. I find the very fact you have retained your ego to this day commendable."

A long forgotten feeling returns to the soul. A concoction of relief and joy. To finally be freed from its eternal loneliness. And it simulates concepts of thanks, hoping to communicate its gratitude towards whatever entity the voice belongs to. For finally having a conversation once again.

"Now now, no need for such gratitude. I almost feel bad now for not finding you sooner. You must have suffered much in your solitude. But fear not. For now that I have found you I will free you from this prison. Onto the very planet you see before us."

The soul, now having recovered its faculties, actually analyzes the world it inhabits. As it finds itself within a solar system, its memories of its previous life noting odd similarities to sol, and as it focuses its attention on the world the entity spoke of. It finds a nauseous looking planet. Unsuitable for life. Yet crisscrossed with megacities and industry. Its atmosphere choked with smog. And through the dark clouds the soul can barely see the movement of bodies. Their details unable to be determined due to the obstacles.

"As a form of apology for not finding you sooner. I will grant you one wish."

And the soul takes but a moment to think, unwilling to sacrifice its ego after the torture it suffered to maintain it. And unwilling to get stuck in such a situation again. It answers with but a simple request. 'I would like to keep myself.' and a chuckle fills its senses. Loud and prominent, the entity speaking to it, most likely a god considering the soul's knowledge, agrees gladly.

"Then I wish you luck in your new life."

And once again the soul loses its consciousness. This time entering the darkness with glee.