Unexpected Journey

In the silence of the night, everything was as it should be. The sky was faintly illuminated by the dim light of the stars, the air was still, and time itself seemed to have come to a halt. But suddenly, something unexpected happened.

First, a shadow appeared—like a forgotten memory of ancient times—at first vague, then rapidly expanding into darkness. As the boundary between time and space dissolved, golden lights abruptly spread across the sky. Shades of orange, crimson, and yellow intertwined, swirling like a vortex in a hypnotic dance. The colours flowed, trembled, and shifted, like the notes of an ancient song.

Anyone could have been captivated by the magic of these lights—perhaps watching them as if they were a masterpiece, admiring their beauty. But I was not enchanted. Fear gripped me. I wanted to escape these lights, to look at the sky again, to return to the world where I could breathe. Where was this place? Who or what had pulled me here? Questions flooded my mind as I began to observe my surroundings, desperate for answers.

At that moment, a deep, resonant sound echoed from an unknown source. It was like the song of a whale rising from distant oceans—neither human nor any creature I had ever known. The sound rose, then fell, its undulating rhythm whispering in my ears.

My skin prickled. For a fleeting moment, the sharp chill of fear coursed through my entire body. I knew I would never forget this sound, for it felt like an ancient call etched deep into my soul.

Yet, as time passed, I strangely became certain that this sound meant me no harm. It was not threatening. It was calling to me, but it was not forcing me. It was a gentle and soothing melody—like a friend in the midst of the unknown.

I wanted to ask who it was, what it wanted from me. I wanted to know where I was and where I was going. But when I opened my mouth, no sound emerged. The words vanished before they could take form.

No matter how hard I tried, my voice was gone. Here, in this strange world, there were only thoughts.

The sound echoed for a while longer, then silence fell. The deep void of nothingness, the cold, grasping presence of the tunnel around me, sent shivers down my spine. My fear turned to anger. I wanted to scream my rage into the emptiness, but my voice was still missing. Then, even my anger faded, leaving behind only the dark void of uncertainty.

I continued drifting through the tunnel. I had no idea how far I had gone. Time seemed to have lost its meaning here. Sometimes it felt like an eternity, sometimes as fleeting as the blink of an eye. The colours kept shifting, the patterns of light constantly morphing into new shapes. I could not even feel myself moving—it was as if I were floating in a timeless current within the depths of space.

In this unknown, I began to think. Thinking offered me a brief escape from the surreal existence surrounding me.

Had that voice truly been there, or was it just an echo of the tunnel?

No. It could not have been merely an echo. That voice was conscious. It was alive.

I needed to name it somehow. The name Whaley came to mind because its sound had reminded me of a whale's song from the deep sea.

So, I had made contact with a living being. But it was one-sided. I wanted to call out to it, but all I had was silence.

This interaction both unsettled and intrigued me. Would I ever decipher the meaning of that voice? Was it merely a recording, or was it speaking directly to me? And most importantly—what was the message it wished to convey?

Unable to find answers, I set these questions aside. There were more urgent matters to consider.

Where did this tunnel lead? How would I escape? Would I encounter Whaley again?

But deep inside, I had a feeling. If Whaley had meant to harm me, it would have done so already. So why was I here?

There was a deep loneliness in its voice—a sorrow, yet a hidden kindness. It was the voice of an ancient being.

Was it giving me a mission? If so, what was I supposed to do?

As these thoughts consumed me, at last, a light appeared ahead.

And finally, the tunnel had an end.