@aibearz
He stood at the edge of his own creation neither flesh nor memory, but a fragment of time unraveling.
The faces swirling around him were echoes of forgotten selves, whispering truths he once buried in silence.
As the golden light consumed the shadows, his body dissolved into symbols of meaning and loss.
In that sacred disintegration, he understood: to become infinite, one must first let the self fade. What remained was not a man, but the memory of light learning to feel.
0 reply
0 recast
0 reaction