"Mmmh..."
A soft moan escaped Darian as his eyelids fluttered.
"Is it morning already?"
He muttered under his breath, his voice still heavy with sleep. Stretching his body, he slowly opened his eyes—only for them to widen beyond their limit, astonishment overtaking his face.
"…What the hell?!"
His surprised voice gave way to reverence.
Before him lay a vast expanse of water, stretching endlessly beyond the horizon. No land, no structures—only the boundless sea, impossibly still yet rippling with every slight movement he made. And he was standing on it.
His gaze darted around, searching for anything familiar, but the scenery remained unchanged. The sky above mirrored the sea below—an endless azure with no sun in sight, yet the light was blindingly bright. Warmth enveloped him, not harsh or overbearing, but comforting, seeping deep into his very soul, as if healing wounds he didn't even know he had.
"…Naturally, this must be a dream."
The sight before him felt too surreal. To confirm his suspicion, he pinched himself. As expected, there was no pain.
"So it is indeed a dream."
Accepting this conclusion, Darian sat down. Yet, despite knowing it wasn't real, the sensation surrounding him felt far from ordinary.
"…So that's what you think?"
A calm yet unwavering voice echoed through the space.
Darian's head snapped up, his body tensing. He turned around, scanning the area—only to find something that hadn't been there a moment ago.
A table. Two chairs.
And on one of those chairs sat a figure, facing away from him.
The man was broad-shouldered, his frame undeniably large—fat, even. Though Darian couldn't see his face, he could tell this person was no ordinary dream construct.
Something about him felt real.
Darian narrowed his eyes and rose to his feet, cautiously stepping toward the figure. He still believed this was a dream, yet something about it felt different. Too vivid. Too real.
Time stretched unbearably as he closed the distance. When he finally reached out, his fingers mere inches away—
Whoosh!
The figure vanished.
"!!!!!"
Darian froze, his breath hitching. He blinked rapidly, his mind struggling to process what had just happened.
"He disappeared?" His voice barely broke the silence. "Where did he go?"
The air remained still, as if mocking his confusion. The presence that had been there just moments ago was now gone, as if it had never existed.
Just as he turned to look around, a voice, rich with amusement, echoed through the space.
"Hah... how amusing."
Darian's head snapped up, his eyes darting toward the source of the voice—only for them to widen in sheer disbelief. His breath caught in his throat.
What he was witnessing... defied all description.
There he was—or rather, him. No... but his past self.
The 'Darian' before him sat leisurely, amusement flickering in his eyes, as if witnessing entertainment after an eternity.
"But how?"
Confusion swirled in Darian's mind, dragging him into a storm of thoughts. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus. This is just my imagination...
His past self studied him, the amusement in his eyes fading into something calmer—calculated. The smirk he wore earlier was nothing but a mask.
"If I leave him be, he'll brush this off as just a dream." The thought crossed Old Darian's mind as he watched his present self wrestle with disbelief.
"Why don't you take a seat?"
The older version's voice was steady, laced with familiarity. He gestured with a small smile, waiting.
Darian hesitated, locking eyes with his former self. Silence stretched between them.
Then, he moved.
As Darian settled into his seat, silence stretched between them. They stared at each other, neither speaking, the quiet pressing down on him. The calm atmosphere did little to ease his nerves.
After what felt like an eternity, the older version finally spoke—slowly, yet with certainty.
"First and foremost, this isn't a dream."
Darian narrowed his eyes but remained silent.
Old Darian nodded, as if expecting the skepticism. He sighed before attempting a proper introduction.
"Nice to meet you—" He paused, tapping a finger against his temple in thought. Then, with a smirk, he looked at Darian again. "Should I call you New Darian?"
There was unmistakable humor in his tone, followed by a quiet chuckle.
A vein twitched on Darian's forehead. His expression darkened, cracking beneath irritation.
"What the—"
"Alright, alright, calm down," Old Darian interrupted, raising a hand. "I was just trying to lighten up the situation."
Darian clenched his fists, his anger barely restrained. Just as he was about to snap, Old Darian waved his hand again, his expression turning serious.
"So, where should I start..." he muttered, eyeing Darian, who gritted his teeth in frustration.
Taking Darian's silence as a sign to continue, Old Darian sighed. "As I said before, this isn't a dream, nor is it your imagination."
He paused, watching Darian's reaction. When there was no immediate outburst, he pressed on.
"The place we're currently in is the soul subspace of the body. Meaning, right now, we exist in our soul forms."
Darian listened intently, his expression hard but unreadable.
"And the reason you've taken over my body is..." Old Darian hesitated, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. He knew the next words would likely ignite Darian's rage.
Darian's eyes narrowed.
Old Darian took a deep breath before delivering the final blow.
"Because of me."