The Nexus existed in a state of eternal stillness, a world untouched by time, where nothing was meant to begin and nothing would ever end. A place neither awake nor asleep, lingering on the edge of existence. The air shimmered with a soft, ethereal glow, as though the very fabric of this world was woven from threads of forgotten dreams.

  The sky stretched infinitely in every direction, a deep, endless blue dusted with shimmering constellations. Some stars flickered, forming fleeting shapes—Horse's head, Cart, Deer's head, Bow and quiver etc making 27 different patterns—then dissolving as if the universe itself were whispering old myths. Occasionally, golden particles drifted lazily, moving like lost fireflies with no purpose, no urgency.

  Beneath the boundless sky, the floor of the Nexus mirrored a vast, glassy ocean, its surface carved with pulsing, glowing runes. The symbols were ancient, alive, their soft luminescence syncing with the heartbeat of the realm. Beneath the glass, glimpses of past and future shimmered—fractured visions of places unseen, faces unknown. Shadows of the nine kingdoms hovered far beyond the horizon, appearing and disappearing like mirages in a desert of dreams.

  At the heart of this unmoving eternity stood the Central Spire, a towering crystalline monolith that hummed with a soundless melody. It had been glowing for eons, but there was no one to witness it, no one to hear its silent song.

  Until now.

  ---

  In the heart of the Nexus, upon a floating platform encircling the Central Spire, sat a man. Or rather, he lounged—slumped with an effortless grace, one arm propped lazily against the throne of white stone, his golden-crowned head tilted slightly to the side.

  His attire matched the realm: pristine white, untouched by time or wear, but upon closer look, a certain disarray was evident. His suit, though regal, was slightly loosened at the collar, his golden bracelets clinking faintly as he shifted in his sleep. Rings adorned his fingers—each carved with symbols that meant nothing to him anymore.

  The golden crown upon his head sat askew, as if even it had grown tired of his disinterest. It held no gems, no embellishments—just a plain band of gold, heavy with forgotten authority.

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  And in his hand, resting lazily against the throne, was his staff—a long, elegant rod of silver-white, crowned at the tip with a flawless glass orb. The orb held nothing, reflecting only the empty quiet of this place.

  He had been here for so long, resting in the nothingness, that even boredom had become too exhausting to acknowledge. Nothing had ever changed in the Nexus.

  Until now.

  ---

  It began as a soft tremor, a whisper of movement in a world that had never known change. The air shifted, the golden particles swirling unnaturally as if startled. The constellations flickered—some blinked out completely, as if the very sky had forgotten how to remain still.

  Then came the light.

  A streak of brilliant fire tore across the sky—a comet, its tail burning with hues of gold, blue, and silver. It was fast, too fast for a place that had never known motion, and its descent shattered the silence of the Nexus.

  The ground, once tranquil glass, trembled as a shockwave of luminous energy rippled outward, warping reflections beneath the surface. The Central Spire, unshaken for eternity, pulsed violently, its hum turning into a resonant chime that echoed through the void. The golden runes flared, reacting instinctively, as if they recognized the comet’s arrival as something sacred.

  And the man on the throne?

  His golden crown slipped further down his forehead, jolted slightly by the force. One of his rings clinked softly against his staff as his fingers twitched.

  His eyes opened.

  For the first time in his existence, he witnessed movement. Not the drifting of golden dust, not the slow shimmer of the runes, but something truly alive.

  The comet spiraled downward, crashing upon the glass floor in a burst of celestial light, leaving behind not a crater, not a ruin, but something far more astonishing.

  Curled up upon the glowing floor, a woman lay writhing in pain, her body trembling from the force of her arrival.

  She was not of this place.

  She was something new.

  And for the first time in an eternity, the man on the throne felt something stir within him. Something he had never felt before.

  And he did not know if he wanted it to stop.

  ---

  He frowned.

  Pain did not belong here.

  And yet, watching her suffer sparked something unfamiliar within him—a discomfort that did not stem from boredom.

  Acting on instinct, he lifted his staff and tapped its base against the floor. The orb at its tip flared to life, releasing a soft cascade of white, stardust-like mist. It drifted toward her, wrapping around her trembling form, sinking into her skin like a balm.

  He watched as the tension in her body eased, as her breath evened out, as the pained expression melted into something softer.

  A single tear slipped from her eye, catching the Nexus’ glow before disappearing into the floor.

  Her fingers flexed, her body shifting as if testing the ground beneath her. Slowly, cautiously, her eyes fluttered open.

  The Nexus’ glow reflected in her gaze—deep, rich, and questioning.

  Then, her eyes met his.

  For a moment, neither of them spoke.

  He did not know how long they stared at each other—time had never mattered here before.

  Then, with an ease that felt almost foreign, he smiled.

  Not a smirk of amusement.

  Not a knowing, distant expression.

  A Bright and playful smile.

  With his staff still in one hand, he raised the other in a small wave, added a wink of an eye. A simple, almost playful gesture.

  And then, in a voice that had gone unused for a

  n eternity, he spoke the first word ever uttered in this space.

  "Hi."