Oblivion

Null had completely forgotten who he was. His name, his purpose for being in this place—everything had slipped away. His mind felt empty, like it was no longer functioning. The only thought that surfaced repeatedly, like a flicker of light in the darkness, was that he had been born here for no reason at all. There was no rationale behind it, just a deep-rooted conviction with no clear purpose.

No motive, no resolution. Null wandered aimlessly through streets shrouded in darkness, an emptiness engulfing him as though it was part of him. The void welcomed him, embraced him, and he walked within it without question.

Though he was heedless of his actions, one habit persisted. Null never forgot to visit the cliff. Every day, without fail, he made his way there, though he had no idea why. It had become a routine, one ingrained so deeply that he couldn't break free from it.

In this strange world, Null didn't need food or sleep to survive. He simply existed. Today, as usual, he made his way to the cliff. His footsteps echoed unnaturally in the oppressive silence of the city. The sound was louder than ever, though the streets were just as empty as always.

When he reached the top of the cliff, he walked up to the edge and stared down into the abyss. There was nothing—only a vast, yawning void. And yet, something about it felt familiar, as though he had been here before. A strange sense of nostalgia washed over him, though he couldn't explain why.

As he turned to leave, a faint, echoing voice reached his ears. It was distant, but strangely familiar, as though he had heard it long ago. Null stopped in his tracks. Confusion clouded his thoughts. The voice sounded so ordinary, yet in this world of silence, it was out of place.

He wanted to know where the voice was coming from. It called to him, soft and faint at first, but growing clearer with each step he took.

The city, once silent, was no longer still. The only sound Null had ever known here was his own footsteps, but now, there was something more. A voice. It echoed in the darkness, filled with pain and confusion, mirroring his own feelings. It seemed to call him toward something unknown.

With each step, the voice became more distinct, but still incomprehensible. It wasn't human, nor did it belong to any animal. Despite knowing this, Null couldn't resist its pull. He followed it, caring little for what lay ahead.

The only thought running through his mind was that he had to see the source of the voice.

Eventually, the voice led him to a familiar place—the orphanage where he had spent his early years. The old building stood in the same state of decay, with cracked walls and a half-open door, as though someone had left it ajar on purpose.

The voice grew more persistent now, almost urgent, filling him with unease. It came from inside, from the very room where he had once slept. Null entered the room slowly, his heart pounding in his chest.

Inside, everything was the same as he remembered. The old steel bed, still creaking, sat against the wall. The ceiling was cracked, and the window near the bed allowed the faintest light to filter through, just as it had when he used to watch the other children playing outside.

But the voice had vanished. It was gone, as though it had never been there. Null stood in the room, confused and disoriented. Had it all been a figment of his imagination?

He gazed around the room, inspecting every corner, every crack in the ceiling, but nothing had changed. After a few moments, he turned to leave. But just as he reached the door, the voice returned.

Null whipped around, searching for the source of the sound, but what he saw was beyond belief.

A shadow had appeared on the floor. It wasn't cast by any light—this shadow was different. Darker than night itself, it began to rise and take shape, transforming into a figure. The figure had no distinct body parts, no eyes, no face—just blackness, like a void. Looking at it was like staring into the endless unknown, where anything could happen.

Null's breath caught in his throat as he watched the figure materialize before him. It felt both familiar and alien, as though he had seen it before but couldn't place it. His curiosity overpowered his fear. Slowly, he stepped closer to the figure, and the voice stopped.

He reached out, trying to touch it, but his hand passed through it, as though it didn't truly exist in this world.

Null stood frozen, unsure of what to do next. Fear gripped him, but so did curiosity. What was this creature? Where had it come from? Without thinking, he raised his head to where he assumed the figure's face might be.

With a voice barely louder than a whisper, he asked, "What are you?"

The shadowy figure didn't respond in words he could understand. It made a sound, but it was unlike anything Null had ever heard. The voice, if it could be called that, seemed to communicate in a way that bypassed language entirely.

Null moved cautiously around the room, trying to gauge its reaction. The figure didn't follow him with its nonexistent eyes, but it felt as though it was watching him. Then, after a few moments of stillness, the figure turned and began to exit the room, its movements slow and deliberate.

Null's heart raced as he watched it leave. Without thinking, he followed it, unable to let it go. He couldn't waste a second. He had to see where it was going.

The figure floated just above the ground, moving silently through the orphanage.The way it was wandering around resembled like it knew every corner of this empty world. Null simply followed close behind, not caring how much time had passed. He simply walked, driven by a strange compulsion to see where the figure would lead him.