05-02-2018, 06:17 PM
Dexter drifted. Suspended in a realm without shape or form, his existence became bereft of sensation—at once weightless, sightless, and soundless. Without any mechanism by which to measure the passage of time, the days—years, perhaps, or minutes?—ran together in an interminable blur.
Disoriented beyond words, beyond even thought, Dexter struggled to focus. Harmony. The single word echoed, reverberated in his mind. He remembered the mirror, deep below ground. He remembered staggering up to it to look at his reflection, but then… nothing.
The voice intruded then, drawing Dexter’s attention. “Welcome, Dexter Mills.”
Dexter noticed the silhouette of a figure approaching through the darkness. Although it had no discernable features, he could feel it smiling. Opening his mouth but unable to produce sound, Dexter’s only response was a silent outpouring of confusion.
The silhouette raised a hand to quiet him. “My name is Omni.”
Dexter found his focus, very gradually, returning. He concentrated on the silhouette—Omni?—and on a single word, a plaintive question: Harmony?
The silhouette laughed, its booming, mellifluous voice rolling through Dexter’s head like ocean waves. “This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse.”
In that moment, absolutely nothing made sense to Dexter. Disparate thoughts and images tumbled through his mind like water through a sieve, leaving no coherence in their wake. His mouth opened and shut in a futile attempt to form another question.
“You interest me,” Omni went on. “So I have made you a part of it.” If the impossible being noticed Dexter’s sorry state, he seemed not to care.
Omni carried on a few moments longer, but its words blurred together and eluded comprehension. A dream? Dexter wondered, trying feebly to assign some meaning to the scene before him, some logic. A hallucination?
Omni chuckled, seemingly aware of Dexter’s thoughts. “There are rules,” it said at length. “I will only explain them once, so listen carefully.”
The silhouette produced an orb from some unfathomable pocket, a swirling, rainbow-colored object, and handed it to Dexter. The object had no weight. It seemed intangible yet rested neatly in his palm. Dexter accepted it with trepidation, fascinated by the object against his better judgment. The air around him thrummed with an almost audible energy. Power? Dexter wondered.
“This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours.”
Anything? Dexter thought, transfixed by the swirling orb.
Omni continued, but again its words fell against the backdrop of Dexter’s thoughts. It had to be a dream, he resolved. Perhaps he was in a coma, still unconscious several stories beneath downtown Seattle. Or perhaps, a final idea surfaced, he had stumbled upon an alternate universe.
Omni’s voice cut back through Dexter’s consciousness. “That’s all you need to know right now. You’ll figure out the rest soon enough. I’ll be watching… and waiting.”
Disoriented beyond words, beyond even thought, Dexter struggled to focus. Harmony. The single word echoed, reverberated in his mind. He remembered the mirror, deep below ground. He remembered staggering up to it to look at his reflection, but then… nothing.
The voice intruded then, drawing Dexter’s attention. “Welcome, Dexter Mills.”
Dexter noticed the silhouette of a figure approaching through the darkness. Although it had no discernable features, he could feel it smiling. Opening his mouth but unable to produce sound, Dexter’s only response was a silent outpouring of confusion.
The silhouette raised a hand to quiet him. “My name is Omni.”
Dexter found his focus, very gradually, returning. He concentrated on the silhouette—Omni?—and on a single word, a plaintive question: Harmony?
The silhouette laughed, its booming, mellifluous voice rolling through Dexter’s head like ocean waves. “This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse.”
In that moment, absolutely nothing made sense to Dexter. Disparate thoughts and images tumbled through his mind like water through a sieve, leaving no coherence in their wake. His mouth opened and shut in a futile attempt to form another question.
“You interest me,” Omni went on. “So I have made you a part of it.” If the impossible being noticed Dexter’s sorry state, he seemed not to care.
Omni carried on a few moments longer, but its words blurred together and eluded comprehension. A dream? Dexter wondered, trying feebly to assign some meaning to the scene before him, some logic. A hallucination?
Omni chuckled, seemingly aware of Dexter’s thoughts. “There are rules,” it said at length. “I will only explain them once, so listen carefully.”
The silhouette produced an orb from some unfathomable pocket, a swirling, rainbow-colored object, and handed it to Dexter. The object had no weight. It seemed intangible yet rested neatly in his palm. Dexter accepted it with trepidation, fascinated by the object against his better judgment. The air around him thrummed with an almost audible energy. Power? Dexter wondered.
“This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours.”
Anything? Dexter thought, transfixed by the swirling orb.
Omni continued, but again its words fell against the backdrop of Dexter’s thoughts. It had to be a dream, he resolved. Perhaps he was in a coma, still unconscious several stories beneath downtown Seattle. Or perhaps, a final idea surfaced, he had stumbled upon an alternate universe.
Omni’s voice cut back through Dexter’s consciousness. “That’s all you need to know right now. You’ll figure out the rest soon enough. I’ll be watching… and waiting.”