Rebirth

The void stretched endlessly around Ethan, a vast expanse of nothingness that somehow felt more real than anything he had ever experienced. His consciousness, unbound by physical form, pulsed and wavered in the cosmic emptiness. And there, before him – if "before" even had meaning in this place – was the entity.

Ethan couldn't see it, not in any conventional sense. There were no eyes to see with, no light to illuminate. Yet he perceived the creator with every fiber of his being, an awareness so profound it defied description. It was as if the very fabric of reality had coalesced into a singular point of existence, infinitely complex and utterly simple all at once.

The entity's presence overwhelmed Ethan's consciousness. It was everywhere and nowhere, permeating the void with an energy that made the concept of "alive" seem woefully inadequate. Ethan felt small, insignificant, a mere spark before an endless inferno. Yet somehow, he also felt intimately connected to this cosmic force, as if he were both separate from and part of it simultaneously.

Words failed him, for there was no mouth to speak, no air to carry sound. Instead, Ethan's very essence pulsated with emotion and intent. His desperate plea reverberated through the void, not as language but as pure, raw feeling.

'Please,' his consciousness cried out, 'let me try again. I can do better. I can get it right this time.'

The intensity of Ethan's hope was almost painful, a searing beacon in the darkness of the void. He poured every ounce of his being into this appeal, his essence trembling with the force of his conviction.

As Ethan pleaded, the void around him began to shift and warp. It was as if the fabric of non-existence itself was responding to his impassioned argument. Waves of energy rippled outward, distorting the nothingness in ways that should have been impossible. Colors that had no names flashed and swirled, creating patterns that hurt to contemplate.

Through it all, Ethan could feel the creator's attention upon him. It was neither judgment nor compassion, but something far beyond human understanding. The entity's contemplation of Ethan's request seemed to stretch for an eternity and last only an instant, time losing all meaning in this realm beyond reality.

Suddenly, Ethan felt a shift. The void around him began to contract, an immense pressure building from all directions. Before he could react, an overwhelming force seized him, violent and irresistible. It was as if every atom of his non-existent body was being pulled apart and compressed simultaneously.

Ethan's consciousness hurtled through what felt like an impossibly narrow tunnel, moving at speeds that defied comprehension. The sensation was beyond vertigo, beyond fear, beyond any human experience. His very essence twisted and contorted, stretching and compressing in ways that should have torn him apart.

Colors flashed by, too quickly to register. Sounds assaulted him from every direction – a cacophony of noise that contained every frequency imaginable and some that shouldn't exist. Scents overwhelmed him, tastes exploded on non-existent taste buds, and tactile sensations bombarded every part of his being.

Through this maelstrom of sensation, Ethan felt himself changing. His consciousness, once expanded to touch the edges of the void, now began to contract. It was as if he were being funneled into an impossibly small space, his awareness compressing into a singular point.

The pressure built to an unbearable crescendo. Ethan felt as if he would shatter, his very essence unable to withstand the forces acting upon it. Just when he thought he could endure no more, there was a final, violent push.

In an explosion of light and sensation, Ethan burst into a new reality. The first thing he became aware of was the cold – a shocking chill that enveloped his entire being. Then came the brightness, searing light piercing through eyelids too new to open fully.

Ethan's lungs expanded for the first time, drawing in a sharp breath of sterile hospital air. The shock of it sent a jolt through his entire system. His mouth opened, and a piercing cry echoed through the delivery room – the first sound of his new existence.

Hands were touching him now, large and warm compared to his tiny, sensitive body. Ethan felt himself being lifted, moved, wrapped in something soft. The sensations were overwhelming, each touch sending cascades of information through his underdeveloped nervous system.

With tremendous effort, Ethan forced his eyes open. The world around him was a blur of shapes and colors, his infant eyes unable to focus properly. But even through the haze, he could make out faces looming above him – concerned, joyful, filled with love.

As a nurse placed him in his mother's arms, Ethan felt a wave of warmth and security wash over him. The beating of her heart, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the soft murmur of her voice – it all felt so familiar, so right.

Yet deep in the recesses of his newborn mind, something stirred. A faint echo of recognition, a whisper of memory that shouldn't exist. For the briefest of moments, a flicker of confusion crossed Ethan's face. But then it was gone, lost in the overwhelming flood of new sensations and experiences.

Ethan Carter took another breath, his tiny chest rising and falling. He was alive, new, with a whole lifetime stretching out before him. As he settled into his mother's embrace, the last vestiges of his cosmic encounter faded away, leaving only the faintest trace of déjà vu buried deep within his subconscious.