Drifting in a dream-like state, the soul was jolted to full consciousness by a sudden, deafening crack. Startled, it sat up—or at least, it felt like sitting up. Everything around it shimmered, bright yet ethereal. An invisible current pulled at the soul, sweeping it along with countless others in a ceaseless flow, like a river of drifting spirits.

  Then—another crack. A shatter.

  The current shifted violently, pulling backward, its force growing stronger by the second. Fear gripped the soul. It reached out instinctively, grasping for anything solid—but there was nothing except other souls. It clutched at them, and in the struggle, a tangled mass was thrown free from the river, spinning wildly into the unknown.

  Disoriented, the soul searched for its bearings, but there was only emptiness.

  Then—pain.

  The soul broke.The soul screamed.It refused to perish.

  It watched as other souls shattered around it, their essence scattering into the abyss. It stared into the void.

  Something within stirred.

  The soul changed, its outer yers shifting, reshaping. It needed time. A loop—a cycle of preservation—formed as it braced itself. But time was not enough. It had to adapt.

  It sacrificed more of itself, compressing inward. Pressure built, unbearable, unrelenting. Something cracked inside. Agony flooded its being, its thoughts unraveling into static. It wanted to stop. It couldn't.

  The compression continued, an infinite, crushing force.

  Until finally—

  It colpsed inward, a singurity of self.

  It became the equivalent of a bck hole.

  And it watched the void.