A figure lay on the ground of the endless void, his hair spilling across the darkness around him. His eyes remained open, staring into the emptiness, but there was no focus in them anymore. They seemed to look beyond the darkness itself, as though even the last remnants of his consciousness were slowly slipping away.
Lican lay motionless. His body had grown so thin that he looked as though he had lost an impossible amount of weight, his once-living form reduced to something frail and exhausted. His breathing had slowed until each breath seemed to take an eternity to come, his chest rising and falling so faintly that it was difficult to tell whether he was still alive.
If someone had looked closely, they might have noticed his lips moving. They formed silent words, opening and closing as though he were desperately trying to say something. But no sound came out. It was as if words had ceased to exist, leaving his mouth with nothing but the faint movements of a mind that could no longer gather its thoughts.
His eyelids fluttered.
Slowly, they began to fall, each movement heavier than the last. He fought to keep them open, but the struggle was growing meaningless. There was nothing left to look at, nothing left to search for, and nothing left to give him a reason to resist the darkness swallowing his consciousness. His thoughts drifted further into the abyss, becoming distant and indistinct, until even the memory of his own suffering began to fade.
Then—
A sigh.
It echoed through the void.
It was a strange, ancient sound, carrying a weight that seemed impossible to comprehend, as though it had existed for centuries, perhaps even passed through countless timelines before finally reaching this place. It was neither loud nor particularly forceful, yet something about it seemed to stir the emptiness itself.
Lican's eyelids, which had almost closed, suddenly snapped open.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, something had reached him that did not come from his own voice.
His unfocused eyes trembled as he tried to make sense of what he had heard. His fingers twitched against the ground, and he struggled to lift his head. His body barely responded. Every movement seemed to demand strength he no longer possessed, but he forced himself to look around, desperate to discover the source of the sound.
There was nothing.
The darkness remained unchanged, stretching endlessly in every direction.
His head lowered.
He collapsed against the ground again, his cheek resting against the cold, unseen surface. His breathing became faint once more, and his eyes slowly began to close. Whatever hope the sound had awakened within him was already slipping away, crushed beneath the exhaustion that had consumed him.
Then—
Another sigh.
This time, the sound echoed from a different direction.
Lican's eyes trembled.
The sigh faded into the distance, leaving the void silent once more. Yet before the silence could settle completely, another sigh followed, its source seemingly somewhere else entirely.
It came from a direction that should not have existed.
The sighs echoed through the darkness, each one emerging from a different direction, as though something unseen were wandering through the void, passing by Lican without ever revealing itself.
Lican watched as the still void began to fluctuate. At first, the movement was so subtle that he wondered whether his eyes were deceiving him. The endless darkness rippled like the surface of a lake disturbed by an invisible hand, and the space before him twisted ever so slightly, as though something buried beyond the boundaries of existence was beginning to stir.
Then—
Bang!
The space shattered.
Countless white particles burst from the fractures, scattering through the darkness like fragments of a broken star. They did not fall or disappear into the distance. Instead, they flowed like smoke, curling and twisting through the void in long, silvery streams. Some drifted lazily, while others rushed past one another, weaving together as though guided by an unseen force. Wherever they passed, the darkness trembled, and the emptiness that had once stretched endlessly in every direction began to change.
Lican stood motionless, watching the impossible transformation unfold before his eyes.
The scattered particles gathered in the distance, forming a pale radiance that slowly revealed an enormous flight of stairs ascending into the heavens. The steps seemed to stretch beyond the limits of sight, their ends disappearing into a vast expanse of golden mist. Each stairway was ancient and solemn, its surface marked by faint patterns that resembled the traces of a forgotten civilization. A gentle wind swept across the steps, carrying with it a strange, indescribable presence that brushed against Lican's skin.
He could feel the wind despite standing in a place where there should have been neither air nor atmosphere. It passed through his clothes and stirred his hair, yet there was no chill in it. Instead, it carried a sensation of age, as though the breeze had travelled through countless eras before finally reaching him.
As Lican's gaze travelled upward, he noticed altars positioned at the intersections of the stairs. They stood in perfect silence, their ancient structures rising from the steps like sacred monuments left behind by beings who had long since vanished from the world. Their surfaces were weathered yet strangely immaculate, untouched by the passage of time. Faint golden light flowed across their edges, revealing carvings that seemed to shift whenever he tried to focus on them.
He could not read the inscriptions, yet looking at them filled him with an inexplicable feeling of reverence.
Then the void itself began to tear.
Two enormous palms stretched out from the rupturing fabric of space, their arrival accompanied by a low, thunderous vibration that travelled through the endless darkness. The surrounding void buckled beneath their presence, and the streams of white particles immediately changed direction, spiralling around the gigantic hands as though drawn into the orbit of something far greater than themselves.
The palms were ancient, void-born and unyielding, emerging from a place that seemed to exist beyond the boundaries of creation. Their sheer size defied comprehension. Each finger was larger than the towering structures of a mortal city, and the lines etched into their skin resembled vast rivers winding across an endless continent. Golden radiance seeped through the spaces between their fingers, illuminating the shattered void and casting enormous shadows across the celestial staircase.
Lican's breath caught in his throat.
He felt impossibly small.
Compared to those hands, he was nothing more than a speck of dust drifting through an immeasurable universe. Even the towering stairs that stretched toward the heavens seemed insignificant beside them. He could not understand how something so enormous could exist, much less how it could emerge from the void without tearing apart everything around it.
Yet the hands continued to move with an unhurried grace, as though their immense size meant nothing to them.
The right hand slowly turned downward.
Its enormous fingertips descended toward the celestial staircase, approaching the steps with a deliberate stillness that made the movement far more terrifying than any sudden strike. Then, with a motion that seemed to carry the weight of an entire universe, the fingertips touched the stairs in the bhūmisparśa mudrā, the earth-touching gesture of the Buddha.
The moment the fingertips made contact, the entire space trembled.
A heavy, rhythmic hum spread throughout the void, travelling through the staircase and the surrounding darkness. It was neither entirely sound nor merely vibration. Lican felt it deep within his bones, where it resonated with the frantic beating of his heart. Every pulse seemed to answer the hum, and every answer drew him further into the presence unfolding before him.
The sky began to bleed gold.
It started as a faint discoloration along the distant horizon, a thin golden line spreading across the darkness. Gradually, the colour deepened, flowing through the sky like molten metal poured into the cracks of a shattered vessel. The golden radiance expanded until the darkness could no longer contain it, bathing the celestial staircase in a light so profound that Lican instinctively lowered his gaze.
But even with his eyes turned away, he could still feel it.
Something had arrived.
Something that did not need to announce its presence, because the very space surrounding it had already begun to bow.
Dong.
The first bell rang.
Its sound travelled through the void, deep and resonant, spreading in enormous waves that washed over the staircase. Lican felt the vibration strike his body, passing through his skin and flesh before reaching the deepest parts of his being. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It did not hurt, yet it seemed to reach places within him that even pain had never touched.
Dong.
The second bell rang.
Another wave swept through the space, overlapping with the first until the two sounds merged into a single, profound resonance. The golden sky quivered, the white particles suspended in the void began to dance, and the wind flowing across the stairs suddenly grew stronger.
Lican staggered.
His body felt strangely light, as though an invisible burden had been lifted from his shoulders. The exhaustion that had settled deep within his bones began to recede, and the dull ache of his existence slowly faded. Even his deprived eyes, which had seemed incapable of receiving anything beyond the bleakness of his surroundings, brightened as though an ancient flame had been rekindled within them.
For the first time, the world before him seemed impossibly clear.
His thoughts, which had always been crowded by confusion, fear, and the instinct to survive, gradually quieted. The frantic beat of his heart slowed, and the restless agitation within his mind dissolved beneath the sound of the bells.
He raised his head.
And there, beyond the celestial staircase, he finally saw the statue.
It stood in a place where distance had lost its meaning, its enormous form surrounded by an immeasurable golden radiance. Its features were serene, untouched by anger, desire, sorrow, or the slightest trace of worldly disturbance. The statue's presence was so immense that Lican could not comprehend its full appearance at once. His gaze travelled across its form, struggling to grasp the proportions of something that seemed to belong to a realm where mortal understanding had no place.
Yet, despite its incomprehensible size, there was nothing aggressive about its posture.
The statue simply sat in absolute stillness.
Its right hand remained extended toward the stairs, its fingertips resting upon the celestial steps in the same earth-touching gesture. The gesture appeared simple, almost ordinary, yet it carried a weight that Lican could not explain. It was as though the statue had no need to declare its authority, no need to raise its voice or display its strength. Its mere existence was enough to make the surrounding void acknowledge it.
A wave of absolute peace rippled outward.
It swept through the shattered space, passing over the stairs, the altars, and the countless white particles drifting through the golden sky. When it reached Lican, the remaining fatigue in his bones vanished completely. The tension in his muscles eased, and a warmth spread through his body, reaching the places where exhaustion and suffering had settled for as long as he could remember.
For one fleeting moment, he felt as though nothing in the world could hurt him.
There was no pain, no hunger, no fear of what might come next. The endless struggle of existence seemed distant, separated from him by an invisible barrier. He could simply stand there and breathe, free from the weight of everything that had ever demanded his suffering.
But beneath that overwhelming mercy lay something far more terrifying.
Holiness.
It was not the kind of holiness that begged for worship or demanded obedience through threats. It did not need to punish the wicked or reward the righteous to establish its authority. The presence before him existed in a state of absolute purity, untouched by the chaos of the world and unburdened by the endless conflicts that consumed all living things.