The Golden soul

Darkness.

Pure. Endless. Absolute.

There was no sky, no ground — only a black void so deep it swallowed thought and memory. In that infinite abyss drifted a lone soul, silent and still, like a kite whose string had been cut. No pull. No direction. Just… drifting.

Until something changed.

A flicker.

A faint, ethereal glow — blue, distant, almost shy — appeared like the first star in a dead sky.

And then a voice. Calm. Deep. Echoing in every corner of the void.

"A golden soul… How curious. It's been a million years."

The light grew closer, casting a soft blue hue across the endless black. The soul — shapeless, flickering — stirred.

A second pulse of light reached out and touched it gently, like a warm hand brushing away frost.

"Wake up."

The soul trembled. Then, eyes opened.

Not metaphorically — they truly opened. Human eyes, calm and piercing. They didn't reflect fear. They reflected memory.

"…Rudra," the soul whispered.

His name. His truth.

// Rudra's Past Life //

Rudra Singh had been many things. A brother, a soldier, a man of principle.

His parents had passed with time — peaceful deaths. His older brother had drifted into the quiet life of spreadsheets and small talk. They spoke on holidays. Sometimes not even then.

But Rudra had always known his path.

He wanted to fight — not for blood or pride, but to protect.

And he had done just that. With grit and fire.

He earned medals. He saved lives.

He donated most of his earnings to orphanages — kids who'd never have a family. He wanted to be that difference.

Then came the mission.

Terrorists. Schoolchildren. A ticking bomb.

He didn't think. He acted.

The last thing he remembered was the sound of his body shielding the blast… and silence.

Back in the Void…

Now, he stood — no longer a man of flesh, but a soul of golden fire, steady in the face of the unknown.

The blue light pulsed in front of him. Not blinding. Not overwhelming. But impossible to ignore.

"…You're not God," Rudra said plainly.

The voice responded, amused.

"And what makes you say that?"

"Gods demand worship. You don't. You're watching."

"Hah… Insightful. Others have called me many names — Origin, Creator, Voice of the Source."

"But you may call me whatever you wish."

Rudra crossed his arms. "Fine. I'll call you Blue Light."

There was a silence… then a laugh. Warm. Genuinely entertained.

"You amuse me, Golden Soul. Most tremble. You stand unshaken."

"I've already died," Rudra said. "What's left to fear?"

A long pause followed.

"I'm offering you a chance."

"Reincarnation?"

"Yes. In a realm beyond your world. Aetherion. A higher dimension of magic, power, and peril."

Rudra's eyes glinted. "Sounds like something out of a novel."

"It is not fiction. It is harsher, older, and far more real than Earth could ever dream."

"I don't care. Earth has nothing left for me."

The blue light flickered, not in approval, but in deep interest.

"You won't return empty-handed. I will allow you to resonate with three gifts."

Suddenly —

The void exploded into color.

A trillion glowing sigils, like cards made of starlight, swirled around him. Each radiated strange power — some whispering, others screaming.

Rudra didn't reach for them.

He walked among them. Quiet. Focused. Letting his instincts guide him.

Then he felt it.

A soft hum. A vibration in his soul.

[Appraisal]

A quiet card hovered before him, glowing pale white.

"…Truth without words. A soldier's sixth sense," he murmured. "I know this."

The card vanished into his chest.

Then came another.

[Sword Lord]

Its aura crackled like lightning restrained in a sheath.

"A warrior's path… refined. The sword is discipline. Will. Precision. This isn't about death. It's about control."

The second card merged with his soul.

And then the third.

[Mana Regeneration]

It glowed like a heartbeat — steady, patient.

He didn't speak this time. He simply placed his hand on it.

And it, too, joined him.

The Blue Light said nothing at first. Only watched.

Then…

"You did not chase power. You let it find you. That is rare."

Rudra looked up. "I didn't choose. These… felt familiar. Like pieces of myself."

"Then let me return the favor."

Before Rudra could respond —

The void trembled.

A divine surge, more ancient than time, washed over him. Not fire. Not light. Something deeper. The essence of divinity itself.

It didn't burn. It transformed.

His golden soul pulsed. Sharper. Stronger. Awakened.

"What… was that?" Rudra breathed.

"A blessing you did not ask for."

"A gift for walking forward, when others hesitate."

A circle of blinding runes appeared below him. It began to rise, wrapping his soul in cascading symbols older than creation.

"You will be born into a noble bloodline. Karma chose well. But know this — enemies hide behind silk and silver. Trust no mask."

"Understood," Rudra said quietly. "Anything else I should know?"

A long pause.

"You are not alone in Aetherion."

"Others… are watching."

Then — the circle surged. Light engulfed him. A final whisper, like a breath against his ear:

"Go now, Golden Soul… and change the world."

And then —

Rudra vanished.