There was no pain.
No sound.
Only weightlessness.
Ryker floated in what looked like nothingness.
His arms slack, head tilted upward suspended in a void that pulsed with soft, iridescent light. The world around him was neither sky nor space. It was a sea of shifting color with no gravity, no air, no end. His body drifted as if tethered to a forgotten memory.
Ryker wasn't conscious.
Not truly.
But something inside him was awake.
A hum vibrated beneath his skin something gentle, rhythmic. It was like the tuning of a celestial string.
It was the lullaby of stars being born and dying, a soundless music that seeped into his bones.
It wasn't just the noise.
It had meaning.
It resonated.
Ryker tried to move.
Tried to speak.
But,
Nothing responded.
His mouth didn't exist. His limbs were no more than memories, floating beside him like smoke trails in still air.
Then, suddenly
Light.
A spark ignited in the darkness.
Like a ripple across the veil, a scene unfurled before him.
Reality twisted. Folded.
Ryker wasn't floating anymore.
He was there.
Standing in the center of it all, unseen, untouchable.
An observer.
A vision or a memory not his own stretched outward.
********
A battlefield.
Not one of steel and stone.
But of divine fury.
Winds howled across scorched earth. The ground beneath was cracked and bleeding embers.
The ground was split open as if the planet itself had been wounded. The sky above was ripped apart, it fractured like shattered glass suspended in the heavens.
It was torn between bleeding stars and swirling clouds of black ash.
Thunder raged silently and lightning danced like living spirits, threading through the smoke like veins of divine judgment.
Two figures moved through the storm.
Blades clashed,
Light against shadow.
The woman was radiant.
Hair of pale gold danced like threads of starlight behind her. Her armor shimmered silver and white. It etched with glyphs that pulsed with ancient power.
Ryker couldn't read the glyphs but he could feel it's power in his bones. They hummed with purpose, protection, prophecy. Her eyes blue like distant galaxies glowed with fury and sorrow.
Her opponent was a being made of darkness.
No face.
No eyes.
Only a humanoid silhouette, cloaked in a swirling mass of shadows. Every movement left streaks of corruption in its wake darkness that hissed and sizzled as it touched the ground, poisoning everything it grazed.
They fought like titans.
Every clash shook the vision.
Each blow sent shockwaves through the land, warping the air and cracking the sky.
The woman spun midair, blade cutting a crescent of burning light. The shadow twisted, reforming its shape like smoke resisting the wind. Their battle wasn't bound by gravity. They danced in the sky, in the void, in the pulse between seconds.
Their conflict was more than physical.
It was Will against Entropy.
Creation against Oblivion.
Ryker's breath caught.
He could feel them.
The emotions.
The desperation.
The pain.
The connection.
They weren't just enemies.
They were bonded by something deeper. Something more terrible.
A scream tore through the vision and a final clash sent both flying. The land cracked beneath them, torn open like a wound in the dream itself.
Then.
Silence.
.
.
.
.
.
.
******
The vision shifted.
The battlefield faded like smoke drawn into the stars.
Now, both figures sat side by side.
A tall, jagged cliff stretched beneath them. Below was a sprawling valley bathed in soft moonlight.
Lakes shimmered like mirrors.
Trees whispered in the wind.
The sky above was a canvas of stars so bright and close. It felt like they could be touched. It was like the cosmos had bent down to listen.
The woman leaned back, armor stripped away, replaced by a flowing white robe. Her hands rested over her abdomen, slightly rounded.
She was pregnant.
The shadowy figure sat beside her. The figure was still cloaked in dark mist but…
The figure was smaller.
Quieter.
Its form was less menacing now. Less solid. Like a man shaped wraith flickering in the gentle breeze, the edges of its being constantly dissolving and reforming.
They didn't speak at first.
The silence was not awkward.
It was old.
Worn in like a shared memory.
Eventually, she spoke.
"I am afraid."
Her voice was soft, melodic. It resonated not with fear but with knowing. As if she had seen too far ahead and couldn't look away anymore.
The shadow turned toward her, its head tilting.
"There is still time," the figure replied.
A voice like wind through hollow caves.
Hollow…
But not empty.
She smiled faintly.
"No. There isn't."
Her gaze lifted to the stars. "He is almost here."
Ryker's chest tightened.
He stepped closer, instinctively though he knew they wouldn't see him.
The woman gently traced a hand across her belly. "He will be different."
"He must be," the shadow said.
A long pause.
Then…
"Do you regret it?" she asked.
The shadow shifted.
"I was never meant to love."
She looked at him not with sadness but something ancient.
Grief wrapped in peace.
"And yet you did."
Another long silence.
The woman's hand twitched against the ground. Her other hand gripped her belly.
A spasm of pain crossed her face.
She winced.
The shadow turned sharply.
"It is starting."
"No… not yet," she whispered, breathing slow and measured.
"Just a tremor. He is not ready."
Her voice trembled now.
But not from fear.
From acceptance.
"Will you be there?" she asked, suddenly.
The shadow didn't answer.
Not immediately.
When it did, the voice was different. Lower. Strained.
"Always."
She smiled again, blinking back tears.
"Then he will be safe."
The wind picked up.
Moonlight turned gold.
Something began to shift in the atmosphere like the very stars were holding their breath.
The woman leaned forward, gripping her knees, pain slowly rising in waves across her face.
Her breathing quickened.
Another contraction.
Stronger.
Deeper.
She groaned, curling forward.
Ryker watched, frozen.
His mind raced, trying to piece everything all together.
Who were they?
Why did this feel… real?
More than a dream.
More than memory.
It felt familiar.
The woman fell to her hands and knees, gasping for air. Sweat matted her hair. Her glow dimmed and pulsed with each breath, each contraction a tremor through the fabric of the dream.
The shadow knelt beside her.
"We don't have long," it said.
"I know," she whispered, tears slipping down her cheek. "I am ready."
Ryker took a step forward.
The world around him warped again.
Light expanding, stars streaking downward like rain.
And then
A heartbeat.
Loud.
Echoing.
Ba…dum.
Ba….dum.
A pulse of golden light radiated from the woman's abdomen. The light flared outward like a miniature sun, illuminating everything with warmth and promise.
Her voice cried out
Half agony, Half joy.
The birth was beginning.
Ryker's entire body tensed.
He needed to understand. He needed answers. Names. Meaning.
But the vision was already slipping.
Fading like sand through fingers.
No…
Wait...WAIT!"
But the stars dimmed.
The night fractured.
And all he could hear was the woman's scream her scream of pain and triumph and then
Darkness.