Neither Here Nor Reborn

There was nothing.

No sky.

No ground.

No wind.

No stars.

Only darkness.

A darkness so complete that even the concept of light seemed impossible within it.

And yet, two lights existed there.

One was larger than the other, its glow gentle and steady. The second was smaller, flickering faintly beside it.

For a long time, neither spoke.

Then the larger light spoke.

“Son…”

The smaller light trembled.

“Do you know what is the meaning of life and death?”

There was silence.

“No,” the smaller one answered. “I don't even know what life is. Or what death is.”

The larger light remained still.

“Life and death are a cycle. Everything that is born must eventually die.”

The smaller light dimmed slightly.

“So… will I also die?”

“Yes.”

The answer came without hesitation.

“Everyone must die, son. No one can deny it.”

“But why, Mother?”

The smaller light flickered.

“Why does everything have to die? I don't want to die.”

For the first time, the larger light seemed to weaken.

“I don't know.”

A pause.

“But death is the greatest truth of life. You cannot deny it, even if you do not want to know it.”

The smaller light was silent for a moment.

“If life and death apply to everything…”

It hesitated.

“Will you die too?”

“Yes.”

The larger light answered softly.

“Everyone dies. Everything in this world that exists with a purpose must eventually come to an end.”

“What is a purpose?”

“The reason you were born is your purpose.”

The larger light pulsed gently.

“Everything has a purpose. You. Me. Everything.”

The darkness around them seemed endless.

“But this world…”

The larger light continued.

“This world is not only this void.”

The smaller light trembled.

Then the larger light began to fade.

Slowly.

Its glow became weaker.

“You have to live.”

“Mother?”

“You have to live for me.”

The light continued fading.

“But… there is darkness out there.”

“You have to ignite your own path.”

The voice was becoming distant.

“I’m scared.”

“Don't be scared.”

The light grew weaker still.

“You have to be brave.”

The smaller light shook.

Then, quietly, it answered.

“I will live…”

A pause.

“…for you.”

The larger light faded.

“Mother…”

Nothing answered.

The light was gone.

Fully gone.

For a moment, there was only darkness.

Then the smaller light began to glow.

Brighter.

And brighter.

Until it illuminated the emptiness around it.

A tiny point of existence within an infinite void.

Then…

It began to fade.

Slowly.

Its radiance weakened.

The darkness crept closer, swallowing the light inch by inch.

The glow became smaller.

Dimmer.

Until the darkness nearly consumed it.

Then something happened.

Thump.

A pulse.

The darkness trembled.

Thump.

Another pulse.

The rhythm grew stronger.

THUMP.

Then—

THUMP.

Two pulses.

Two rhythms.

Two existences.

A crack appeared in the darkness.

At first, it was barely visible.

A thin fracture running through the emptiness.

Then it widened.

Something split.

The single light separated into two.

And in the endless darkness…

two pieces drifted apart.