Light is often viewed as a sign of purity. In ancient civilizations such as Greek mythology, light was often viewed as something holy. It represented knowledge, order and sometimes even aspects of human existence. It was a source of warmth and safety.
But as he opened his eyes and awoke in this strange, endless space filled with blinding white light, he didn't feel peace.
Where am I?
He didn't feel warmth either.
What he felt was cold—not a cold that touched his skin, but one that wrapped around his soul like ice, burying deep inside his bones and chilling something beyond the physical.
W...what is this place? How did I get here?
Panic rushed in like a tidal wave. His heart slammed against his ribs. He tried to move—to twitch a finger, turn his neck, cry out—but nothing responded. He was paralyzed completly unable to move or feel his own body. It felt as though a mountain was pressing down on him, and beneath its crushing weight, he was nothing more than a pinned insect.
Even the air, if there was any, felt too clean, too sterile. There was no sound, no wind, no scent. No life. Just an endless void of white.
The irony of it all? The light, so often a symbol of salvation, felt more like a trap—a suffocating cage pretending to be a sanctuary.
He tried again to move, sheer desperation fuelling the effort. His body refused to respond, but after what felt like an eternity of trying, he managed to move his eyes.
YES! At least something still worked.
He looked around—or at least tried to—but there was nothing. No walls, no ceiling, no floor. No horizon. Just white, endless and unbroken in an infinite space of nothingness.
HELP! SOMEONE, ANYONE!
A scream clawed at his throat, but no sound escaped. The silence was maddening. Was he dead? Was this what death felt like? Empty. Cold. Meaningless.
The panic began to twist into something else. Not fear, not exactly. Something deeper. Something primal.
But then—relief. A flicker of sensation returned to his fingertips. Then his wrist. Then his neck. His body slowly remembered how to be his. With effort, he tilted his head to the right, hoping—begging—for something, anything that might explain this current situation he found himself in.
Nothing. Still that endless, taunting whiteness.
He was growing hopless but still used whatever power he had left in his body to turned his head to the left, and finally—something.
Two people lay there. Unmoving. Unconscious. Just like him. Or like he had been a few moments ago.
Hey! Can you hear me? Are you awake?
He tried to speak, call out to them, but his voice was still gone.
Still, he wasn't alone.
That thought alone steadied him. Maybe it was foolish. Maybe they were dead. But even so, there was something comforting in their presence.
Humans are social creatures, after all. Even in fear and confusion, they crave connection. Solitude breeds madness; community, however fragile, sparks hope.
He tried to move the rest of his body but seemed as if moving his head alone already took whatever strength he had in his doby.
He could only lay there waiting, for what, ge didn't know himself, but he didn't have any choice but to wait. And he layed there trying his best to make sense of his current circumstances a loud sound was heard.
BANG!
It was the sound of a thunderclap that tore through the stillness of the this white void, and with it seemed as if an invisible balance was broken.
He could finally feel his body! although with difficulty. Not only him but also see the two to his left twitching as if about to awake from a deep sleep.
Eventually, he managed to sit up. As he slowly looked around, he saw even more figures. Two on his left. Three above. One more below. Seven of them in total, including him.
He wasn't just not alone. He was part of a group.
And then—
"Where am I?! W–Who are you people?! Why did you bring me here?!"
A loud, panicked voice shattered the silence. The woman to his left had awoken—and she was terrified. Her wild curls bounced as she scrambled upright, darting glances at the rest of them.
The others began stirring too, groans and gasps filling the void. A man to the upper side of their circle grunted and rubbed his forehead. Another cursed under his breath. Confusion and fear rippled through the group like a wave.
The woman who had screamed was… striking. Her skin glowed a rich bronze, her clothing colorful and expressive—something about her radiated energy, even now in panic. She kept pacing in tight circles, clearly someone used to movement, maybe unable to cope with stillness.
"Calm down," a deep, steady voice said.
It came from a man who had pushed himself up on one knee. Broad-shouldered and visibly strong, he wore what looked like a plain gray shirt and dark pants. Even in this u comprehendible situation he manage to keep his calm as if used to chaos. He looked around with piercing eyes, scanning them all.
"I don't think any of us brought anyone here. We're all just as confused as you are."
Something about his tone made people listen. It wasn't aggressive. Just… solid. Measured. Like someone used to giving orders—but only when necessary.
"Do you know what this is?" the dancer asked, her voice shaking less now.
"No," he said, looking at the white void around them. "But panicking won't help. Let's figure out what we know first."
One by one, the others began to push themselves up and take stock.
Near him was a woman in modest, white coat—long dark brown hair, soft features, and a subtle air of nervousness. She didn't say much but offered a concerned glance toward the dancer. Her hands were fidgeting slightly, and she kept her body close, as if shielding herself from the tension.
Above them, a tall, dark-skinned man sat cross-legged, expression unreadable. He had an athletic build, the kind you'd see on a sprinter or boxer. He stayed silent, watching. Assessing. His posture was relaxed, but there was a quiet intensity behind his eyes, as if ready to defend himself at a moment's notice.
Opposite him stood a man with almost porcelain skin and sharp, narrow eyes. He was asian, chinese maybe, if one had to guess. He adjusted his glasses, looked around, and then simply sat down again, legs crossed and spine straight. He hadn't spoken a word.
There was something… unnerving about his calmness. Not arrogance. More like someone used to watching rather than acting.
They were seven. Strangers thrown together in a place beyond logic.
Some tried to talk, others stayed quiet.
He, too, kept quiet. Watching. Listening.
The light above them didn't fade. If anything, it grew brighter the longer they were awake. It was constant, unwavering, but not natural. Not sun, not fire, not even artificial light. Just… white.
Too white.
It felt like it could erase them if it wanted to.
And as they all stood there, staring into the void, he couldn't help but wonder—
Was this really light?
Or something wearing light like a mask?