The air in my astral room felt heavier than usual, though I knew it was just in my head. I sat cross legged on the floor while Velarion leaned against the wall, legs crossed, watching me with his usual detached expression. The glow of his golden eyes reflected against the dim, shifting hues of the astral plane outside.

  "So, you've been thinking about your energy," he said, breaking the silence. It wasn't a question.

  I nodded. "I still don’t have a concrete answer, but I feel like I’m drawn to the idea of emptiness. The quiet ."

  Velarion tilted his head slightly, considering my words. "A dangerous path. But also a powerful one, if you can grasp it properly."

  "How so?" I asked.

  "Void, emptiness, whatever you want to call it, isn't just nothingness. It’s the foundation that allows everything else to exist. It’s what remains when all else is stripped away. If you attune to that, you won’t just be manipulating energy, you’ll be shaping the absence of it." He leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly. "But true void consumes indiscriminately. If you’re not careful, it will take you along with everything else."

  I swallowed, but I held his gaze. "I understand. That’s why I need to learn."

  He studied me for a moment longer before nodding. "Then let’s test something. Take a journey. Move through the astral, but stay close to Earth. Observe. Feel. See if you can define your connection."

  The idea of traveling through the astral without an anchor made my pulse quicken, but I didn’t hesitate. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let my awareness expand outward.

  The shift was seamless, like stepping forward and suddenly finding myself weightless. The astral around me stretched into an endless twilight, swirling with formless energy. Beneath me, Earth rotated in its silent majesty, wrapped in layers of reality like a pearl encased in glass.

  I had never traveled abroad before. The concept of moving through the astral without a fixed destination was unsettling at first, but I pushed through the discomfort and drifted forward. My awareness expanded with each passing moment, stretching across continents, over oceans and mountains. I passed cities humming with life, places I had only seen on maps, distant lands that had once felt unreachable. The interconnected energy of human existence flowed beneath me like an intricate web, and yet, beyond it, something else called to me.

  The gloom of the astral.

  It existed between the cracks, lurking in the spaces untouched by the light of human consciousness. Not dark, not oppressive just still. Quiet. A presence of absence, if that made any sense.

  And I felt a kinship with it.

  I drifted lower, letting my senses intertwine with the gloom. The feeling was familiar, like slipping into deep water, yet instead of resistance, there was acceptance. It didn’t push back. It simply was. Here, time slowed. Colors faded to muted grays and deep blues, the energy around me thinning to the barest whispers. I had no body, only awareness, floating in the in between, the unseen fabric of the universe.

  I exhaled, letting my awareness sink further.

  Meditation came easily in this place. My thoughts settled, my breathing slowed, and I focused on that feeling of emptiness, not as a void, but as a foundation. A canvas on which existence was painted. It wasn’t something to be feared or resisted. It simply waited.

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  I stretched my awareness outward, deeper still. My senses expanded, pressing against the edges of perception. Beyond sight and sound, there was only a quiet vibration, an unspoken rhythm of the cosmos. I attuned myself to it, letting it flow through me. The emptiness was not lifeless, it pulsed, breathed, shifted. It was vast yet intimate, distant yet familiar.

  A thought struck me. If this place was the foundation of existence, then perhaps it was not passive at all. Perhaps it listened.

  I reached out ,not with hands, not with will, but with understanding. I let my consciousness drift into the silent current, seeking something beyond comprehension. The further I ventured, the more my own existence blurred, like ink dissolving into water. A deep resonance hummed through my being, neither welcoming nor rejecting. It acknowledged me, a whisper in the void.

  The experience was both humbling and exhilarating. I felt small, insignificant in the face of such vastness, yet at the same time, I felt connected to something greater than myself.

  The void was not empty, it was full of potential, a limitless expanse of possibility. It was the source of all creation, the silent backdrop against which the universe played out its endless dance.

  But as I lingered in that space, a subtle shift began to occur. The quiet vibration that had been so soothing began to intensify, growing louder, more insistent. It was no longer a gentle hum but a deep, resonant thrum that reverberated through my very being. The emptiness that had felt so welcoming now seemed to press in around me, as if testing my resolve.

  I held my ground, refusing to be intimidated. I had come here to understand, to learn, and I wasn’t about to retreat at the first sign of discomfort. I focused on the rhythm, letting it guide me deeper into the void. The further I went, the more I began to sense something else, a presence, ancient and vast, watching me from the shadows.

  It didn’t feel hostile, but it wasn’t friendly either. It was simply there, observing, waiting. I couldn’t see it, couldn’t touch it, but I could feel its gaze, heavy and unyielding. It was as if the void itself had turned its attention toward me, curious about this small, fleeting consciousness that had dared to venture so far.

  I reached out again, this time with a question. Not in words, but in intent. What are you? What is this place?

  The response was not immediate. For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, slowly, the vibration shifted, forming a pattern, a rhythm that I could almost understand. It wasn’t language, not in the way I knew it, but it carried meaning. It spoke of beginnings and endings, of cycles that stretched across eons. It spoke of the void as both creator and destroyer, the source of all things and the end to which all things returned.

  I felt a surge of awe, mingled with a faint undercurrent of fear. This was more than I had bargained for, more than I had ever imagined. The void was not just a concept, not just a tool to be wielded. It was alive, in its own way, and it was far more powerful than I had realized.

  As I absorbed this revelation, the presence began to recede, its attention withdrawing as if satisfied with what it had seen. The vibration softened, returning to its original, soothing hum. The pressure around me eased, and I felt myself being gently pushed back, away from the depths and toward the surface.

  I didn’t resist. I had learned what I needed to, for now. The void was not something to be mastered, not in the way I had thought. It was something to be respected, to be understood. And it was not something I could face alone.

  I felt like the void resonated with my whole being but some nagging feeling in the back of my mind kept insisting that there was more to it than, that it wasn’t a perfect match.

  As my awareness began to return reality , I felt a sudden, sharp jolt. The calm of the void was shattered by a surge of energy, violent and chaotic. It came from nowhere and everywhere, a force that seemed to tear through the fabric of the astral itself. I tried to pull back, to retreat, but it was too fast, too powerful.

  The attack came without warning, a searing blast of energy that struck me with the force of a tidal wave. My awareness was thrown into disarray, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it. I felt myself being dragged down, pulled into a maelstrom of light and sound that threatened to consume me entirely.

  I struggled to regain control, to anchor myself, but the force was relentless. It was as if the void itself had turned against me, its once welcoming embrace now a suffocating grip. I could feel my consciousness fraying, unraveling under the pressure.

  And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the attack stopped. The energy dissipated, leaving me floating in the stillness once more. My senses slowly returned, the chaos giving way to the familiar hum of the astral. But the experience had left me shaken, my mind reeling from the intensity of it.

  I opened my eyes, finding myself back in the astral room. Velarion was still there, his expression as calm and detached as ever. But there was a flicker of something in his eyes, concern, perhaps, or curiosity.

  "What happened?" he asked, his voice as steady as ever.

  I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts. "I… I’m not sure," I admitted. "I felt the void, I tried to understand it , but then… something attacked me. It was like the void itself turned against me."

  Velarion’s expression didn’t change, but I could see the gears turning in his mind. "The void is not a place to be taken lightly," he said after a moment. "It is not just a tool or a concept. It is a force, ancient and powerful. And it does not suffer fools gladly."

  I nodded, the weight of his words settling heavily on me. I had ventured too far, too quickly, and I had paid the price. But I had also gained something, a deeper understanding of the void, and of myself.

  "I’ll be more careful," I said, my voice firm. "But I’m not giving up. This is what I need to do."

  Velarion studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Good," he said simply. "But remember, the void is not just a path to power. It is a test. And it will test you in ways you cannot yet imagine."

  I nodded again, the weight of his warning settling in my chest. But I also felt a flicker of determination. I had faced the void and survived. And I would do so again.