Chapter 4: In the void of emptiness
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Merlin, trapped within the chaotic depths of the magical black hole, endured unspeakable agony. His body, torn by mortal wounds and divine energy, hovered between life and death. Pain pulsed through every fiber of his existence—not just physical, but spiritual. The void gnawed at his mind, seeking to unravel his consciousness one thread at a time.
He searched desperately for solace—some glimmer of hope. His eyes, blurred by agony, settled upon the faint glow of ashes suspended in the emptiness near him. They were the remains of a bird, his beloved phoenix familiar. Though he hoped to see it reborn in a brilliant blaze of flame and light, only a dim flicker burned within the pile of ash. No resurrection came. Time dragged on in the nothingness, and the eternal fire that always gave him hope remained dormant.
As moments stretched into what felt like eternities, Merlin began to wonder: where was he?
The answer didn't come easily. This place defied all his understanding of time, space, and magic. The laws he once bent with a flick of his wand were meaningless here. The pain he felt did not diminish. In fact, it grew. Subtly, slowly, but ever more unbearable.
Finally, after what could have been days or decades, realization dawned. He was in the void—a realm beyond dimensions, outside the reach of any known world, including his own. It wasn't another dimension, nor was it part of the known universe. It was a place of absolute emptiness.
Only three things accompanied him in this lifeless void: his staff, the smoldering ashes of his phoenix, and the corruptive divine energy of Death still lingering within him, eating away at his form like a parasite.
Then an idea struck him—insane, dangerous, but perhaps his only hope. If this place was beyond his dimension, then perhaps he was no longer bound by its rules. The laws of reality that once tethered him might no longer apply. He could, perhaps, connect to another world, another universe entirely. Somewhere beyond even the reach of Death.
Using the last vestiges of his power, Merlin began weaving a spell unlike any he had cast before. A gate—not to escape, but to link dimensions. If he couldn't leave on his own, perhaps he could summon someone else from the other side, and through that link, find a path to freedom.
It took everything he had—his will, his determination, and the remaining spark of life in his soul. He constructed the summoning ritual with exacting precision. It required a being of free will, someone capable of forming a deep magical bond, even across worlds.
As he reached the final phase of the spell, he faltered. A sharp pain surged through him, not from the void or Death's essence, but from within. He realized, with horror, that his soul had been fractured—damaged during the battle, further corroded by the divine corruption within him.
And because his soul was not whole, the spell went awry.
Elsewhere, far from the magical void, in a world ruled not by wands and wizardry but by logic and technology, the year was 2025.
It was a normal day in this dimension, filled with routines and artificial light. People walked the streets, heads buried in their phones, lives governed by machines, data, and reason. There were no dragons, no spells, and no prophecies here. It was a world that had long forgotten the touch of magic—if it had ever known it at all.
In a towering hospital in the heart of a sprawling city, in one of the intensive care units, lay a boy. Sixteen years old, pale and fragile, his chest rose and fell only with the aid of life-support machines. Tubes connected him to monitors, IVs, and respirators. His name was Elias, and he was dying.
Elias had been born into tragedy. Orphaned at five when a car accident claimed the lives of his parents, he had spent most of his short life in medical facilities. At age eleven, he was diagnosed with a rare neurological condition that gradually robbed him of the ability to move, speak, or eat without assistance. Despite everything, he never gave up the will to live. But today, the pain was worse than ever—sharp, suffocating, unbearable.
He knew, in the way only those close to death can know, that this would be his final day.
And then, just as his heart began to slow, something appeared above him. A flicker of light—faint, like a firefly—hovered in the air. No machine detected it, no nurse or doctor saw it. Only Elias.
He stared at it, captivated. The light pulsed with a strange warmth, as if whispering something he couldn't quite hear. And though his body was almost entirely paralyzed, he summoned all the strength left in his frail frame and reached out.
His fingers touched the light.
In that instant, his heart stopped.
The machines screamed in alarm. Nurses rushed in. But Elias was gone. His hand rested on the bed, reaching for something invisible to the world around him.
Back in the void, Merlin felt the shift.
The summoning had worked—partially. A life had ended in another world at the exact moment of contact. The magical tether had been formed.
Merlin gripped his staff tightly, pulling the energy of the boy's soul toward the void. A gate shimmered faintly before him, unstable but real. Through it, something was coming. Not just a soul, but a merging of fates. A new story was beginning—one that would change the fabric of both their worlds.
And in the faintest glow of the phoenix's ashes, a spark rekindled.
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Author's Note:
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