George should've been in agony.
But he felt nothing.
He floated—no ground, no sky, just endless dark.
"George?!" a muffled female voice cried through the void.
The numb feels so good.
I want to stay like this forever.
"George?!"
What's that voice? It sounds like…
Krista.
What is she so stressed about?
Just…
relax.
Krista dug through rubble. She was covered in soot and ash.
Tears welled up around her eyelids.
"George!" she yelled, voice coarse, "where are you?"
She lifted a piece of debris, revealing a hand.
"George?"
She lifted more, revealing the face.
George.
His face was pale.
Eyes shut.
Covered in small pieces of debris.
But he was in pristine condition.
No blood.
No wounds.
Krista frowned—just for a second.
Then shook it off.
She placed her face beside his nose.
Gentle breath tickled her cheek.
"Oh—thank god…" she breathed, voice breaking.
Her voice echoed again.
But something's… wrong.
It stretched.
Warped.
"So…me…body…he…lp"
The sound dragged—unnatural.
Like her voice was being pulled apart.
The void trembled.
Water.
Ripples spread beneath him.
Tom jolted awake.
Water lapped at his sides.
Endless tiles stretched in every direction.
Yellow lights buzzed overhead.
"where… am… I?"
Water sloshed as he stood up.
His soaked, white button-up shirt clung to his chest.
He shivered.
"Am I in Grossaint?"
His eyes shot wide.
"Shit, the invasion!"
He froze.
He couldn't hear anything.
No thuds.
No gunfire.
No screams.
Just the gentle ripples of water.
He looked around.
It was a long corridor.
But it was unnatural.
It seemed to stretch for miles.
Tom rubbed his eyes, hoping the distance would shrink.
Nothing changed.
He looked at his feet.
He was standing on a platform of some sort—the water was much shallower. Directly in front of him was a slight drop that led to deeper water. waist deep. Behind him, there was a tiled wall.
Only one way to go.
Tom swallowed.
He squatted down—dipped his finger in the water.
Warm.
He looked back once more.
The wall stood firm.
"For fuck sake," he whispered.
He slowly sank one foot into the water, reaching the bottom—then the other.
The water was light—it provided little resistance as he waded through. It was like walking through air.
But still wet.
Tom sighed.
He eventually stopped noticing the buzz of the lights.
He even got used to the sensation of walking through water.
The tiled walls stretched. Occasionally, he'd notice the occasional misplaced blue tile. Like someone deliberately placed it there.
The end of the corridor never came any closer—just a black shadow that refused to grow.
"How long have I been walking?"
He turned.
A wall.
"What the fuck?"
He turned again.
Another wall.
"No, no, no…"
He spun—gone.
Now replaced by a new space.
A room—still a pool. But much more open. There were randomly placed pillars that appeared to have been intentionally placed as if to imitate human engineering.
The walls were different.
Blue.
With white clouds painted all over them.
"Hello?!" he yelled.
No response.
"Who's fucking with me?!"
Silence—only dripping…
Somewhere far away.
Tom scratched his head—looked down.
His reflection.
The water rippled, distorting it.
For a second, a silhouette stood behind him—Still.
One giant eye fixed on him.
He turned.
Nothing.
"Mate, I'll kick the shit out of you!" His voice cracked on the last word.
He cleared his throat.
Hidden behind a pillar was a corridor.
Tom looked around for another exit.
Nothing.
He clenched his fists and walked.
The corridor was pitch-black.
He blinked.
A golden eye—small—hung in the distance.
Unblinking.
Looking straight at him.
Tom froze.
He blinked.
Gone.
Replaced by more buzzing lights.
He walked forward. The white tiles carried all the way through, a blue strip along either side. The corridor curved; he followed it through, eventually leading to the end.
He stepped onto a dry platform.
In front of him, a new space opened up.
A large swimming pool.
The space was illuminated, but there were no lights to be seen.
large bold-coloured slides twisted and turned through the air, from one wall to the next. Connected to nothing.
In the centre of the room, there was something weird.
A giant grey-tiled cube, with stairs leading up to the top.
The stairs looked treacherous, singular steps protruding out of the side, with no rails beside them.
He looked around—the space stretched out for what seemed like a kilometre. With no other lead, he embarked upon the cube in the centre.
He placed his feet at the edge of the platform, ready to step into the water again.
He lowered his foot.
His brows lowered as he mumbled,
"What…?"
His foot didn't pass through the water—it didn't even ripple. He placed the other foot on the water. He didn't sink.
As though the world allowed him to float.
Reluctantly, he raised his foot again—placed it forward.
Then the next—each step forward sending a cold chill up his spine.
The silence was deafening. He was alone. But he didn't feel that way. He felt as though he was being watched by a cold observer, causing the hairs on his arm to rise indefinitely, like they knew he shouldn't be there.
He reached the base of the cube, placing one foot on the step. There was no sound as his foot was placed on the step.
He stomped.
Nothing.
Silence.
He clenched his jaw and climbed the steps.
Each step felt like a battle. His stomach was in knots. His heart had sunk long ago. Now he only had a holo feeling in his core.
When he reached the edge, there was a floating platform that led him around the corner. Levitating in thin air.
He placed one foot down.
It didn't even buckle.
It hadn't been allowed to.
Then the cycle continued. Corner by corner, he'd lost count of how many times he'd circled the perimeter of the cube. It seemed to just keep going—taunting him.
But eventually, he could see the top of the cube.
Then, he finally reached the top.
Nothing.
His brows burrowed deep.
"Are you joking.
He looked down.
The pool he once walked was gone—now an endless white void.
He looked up.
The platform changed.
He was now in a dark street. Rain poured down, patting against the concrete. A single lampost stood in the centre, illuminating one thing.
Waiting.
A seven-foot-tall statue.
It levitated just off the ground with its arms slightly outward.
Tom stepped forward carefully.
Three eyes sat on the statue's head: two that sat in the same position as human eyes, and one giant eye at the centre of its large forehead.
All closed.
As he stepped closer, he noticed an imperfection:
A small piece was chipped off, revealing another layer, glowing a fluorescent gold.
It looked like a sea was coursing inside of it. Golden gas swirling underneath.
Tom raised his hand.
Slowly moved it towards it.
The rain stopped.
A chill resonated throughout his body.
He froze.
A single bead of sweat rolled down his cheek.
A crack formed across the statue's face.
Pieces began chipping off.
The central eye opened.
The air felt heavier.
It spoke.
But the words didn't echo.
They appeared in Tom's head.
Sounding like a scolding male teacher—
and a caring mother…
at once
God's…
newest vessel.
Tom's throat tightened.
The presence pressed against him—not violent…
Absolute.
"Are you—?"
Ultrua'is.
The first.
The being glided past Tom.
Its presence brushed against his cheek.
"He said you're—"
The being turned.
A threat…
to God.
Tom fell silent.
"Where am I?"
The world…
In my mind.
What does that mean? Tom thought.
God gave me this.
The ability to…
Create worlds.
The one we reside in now…
is one of those worlds.
"What's going on outside…? Grossaint…?"
They're searching…
for you.
"Why? What have I done?"
Not you…
alone…
God's vessels.
They fear you.
Fear what you will become.
God can…
not…
have…
what he…
wants.
"And why should I trust you?"
It doesn't matter.
You're already under…
his control.
The being raised its hand.
Tom was blasted off his feet—smashed into a wall.
Paper shutters closed between them—like an old Neponese castle.
One final shutter closed in front of Tom.
He was isolated again.
In the centre of a long corridor.
Paper walls and dark wooden flooring stretched.
"Ultrua'is! Where are you!?" Tom yelled.
Human architecture is so…
beautiful.
I'll implement them…
In my Utopia.
To honour their memory.
"Honour us…!? What are you talking about!?"
The sound of paper tearing closed in through the walls.
Then the final wall ripped.
Ultrua'is tore through.
Punched Tom.
He smashed through a glass window of a skyscraper as the world changed once more.
There were two cities mirrored above and below him. In the distance, cars drove, people walked on their phones. Even upside down.
Tom stopped in midair.
He felt a presence behind him.
He twisted.
Swung his fist.
Direct hit…
On a punching bag.
"What?"
Now he was in a dingy gym beside a large ring—abandoned.
Behind him:
There is nothing…
you can do…
Tom.
He clenched his fist tight—swung again.
Ching!
Katana in hand, Tom sliced. through a bamboo shoot.
Clad in a Kendo Gi.
Rain poured down.
He clenched his jaw tight, baring all his teeth.
"Stop toying with me!"
Tom spun 360º.
Then again.
To his left, rain didn't fall.
Ultrua'is didn't allow it to rain on them.
Tom saw him—standing in the distance.
Waiting.
He clenched his fists and sprinted.
His bare feet smacked against the wet mud, spitting it back up behind him.
Ultrua'is came closer with each step.
No messing around this time.
Or so he thought.
His back foot was wrapped in some kind of rope.
He was pulled back with immense force.
Lifting him into the sky.
Ultrua'is watched, shrinking as Tom flew.
The wind blasted against his Kendo Gi, causing it to flutter.
He soared through the air.
Below him, swords clashed. Heavily armoured knights fought to the death through wet mud, unaware of what was flying through the sky.
He could see what launched him—a large wooden trebuchet.
Passing over the battlefield, he closed in on a castle.
Heading straight towards a large wooden gate.
SMASH!
Chunks of wood flew.
Armoured guards were forced off their feet.
Tom crashed into the ground, tumbling along the stone-paved road.
Soldiers screamed as they sprinted through the broken gate, stomping all over Tom.
They passed, eventually the castle fell silent.
Tom coughed.
Warm, wet fluid splattered on his chin.
"Why are you doing this?" Tom winced.
Unfortunately…
you are my enemy.
"So why… don't you just kill me?"
You can't be killed…
in this world.
So I must…
break you.
"Fuck you."
God…
does not care…
about you.
Give up…
Tom.
"He saved my life. Of course he does."
He's using you.
You know this.
You don't care…
about God…
the Vessels…
me.
So give up.
Tom closed his eyes.
"And what would you know about me?"
Ultrua'is' central eye closed.
Opened.
It seems we are…
out of time.
If you save…
your planet.
The next time we meet…
will be on…
The battlefield.
Tom looked up at him, saying nothing. Just panting heavily.
Goodbye…
Tom.
Tom's eyes felt heavy—he couldn't even bring himself to say anything.
His eyelids slowly closed.
Then they jolted open.
The walls stretched tall; the ceiling was high.
The air felt… normal.
He inhaled—deep.
Exhaled, gratefully.
Home.
But then he remembered.
Grossaint.
He shot up.
Winced.
He felt immense pain in his leg.
He slid the thin sheet off him.
There was no leg…
only a stump.
Tom struggled to breathe for a moment.
"This is fine…" he whispered, breath unsteady.
"It'll come back."
"What are you doing up?" a female medic said, crouching beside him.
He looked past her.
Rows of makeshift beds filled the room—civilians and MEI soldiers alike.
Dust still clung to their clothes.
A shelter…
The medic followed his gaze.
"You're in the Grossaint Assembly Hall," she said softly.
"You're safe now."
Tom didn't respond.
Ultrua'is' words spiralled in his head.