Paradise of Shadows

The blank landscape changed and warped before Rhea, her thoughts and feelings manifesting forms from thin air. As she wandered alone, the forms shifted and rearranged into structures, and the surreal became real.

Rhea stood at the centre of a vast metropolis—the paradise she had once been taught about as a child. Every detail seemed to be there, from the gilding of opalescent light to the flowers that warped and flowed over the streams and walkways.

For a brief moment, she believed she was in the promised paradise. But unlike the stories of reunions with lost loved ones, she was alone.

Calling out to her surroundings, she heard nothing but an echo. She moved from promenade to promenade, searching for others as the world created itself around her. Tables laden with bountiful food materialised wherever she went, and robes of intricate cloth draped themselves over lavish furniture as she passed.

Soon, an array of noises began to rise: a gentle breeze, small animals flying above, and finally, voices breaking the tranquillity. Rhea rushed to find their source.

The empty promenades now teemed with activity as people conversed, ate, and played. Before she could reach the gatherings, an unworldly feeling struck her. Almost at once, the people began to flicker in and out of focus.

Suddenly, Rhea could feel the presence of others moving slowly between the structures. It was something she had never experienced: a strange anticipation, like knowing something was falling towards her but being unable to see it.

The knowledge she sought, even subconsciously, slid into her mind. Like the city around her, information manifested when needed, and an inexplicable dread crept over her.

The forms bled over the walls and floor like droplets of ink in water. Tendril-like voids appeared wherever they spread, cracking the reality of Rhea’s city.

She knew not to wait. With a wave of her hand, she dispersed the city and found herself in new surroundings—different, but just as beautiful as the metropolis. Like turning the pages of a book, she sifted through the knowledge now within her. What she found both delighted and terrified her.

Within the Inner, beings were like gods. By entering it, Rhea had somehow become part of it. Here she could manifest anything through sheer will: populate entire worlds with a thought, carry out her deepest fantasies, and experience every emotion to whatever extreme she wished.

But, like many things, there was a cost.

The longer a being remained inside the Inner, the more numbness accumulated. Under the constant bombardment of excessive fulfilment, every emotion slowly dulled. Only the arrival of others—with new feelings and experiences—could delay the degradation.

But the ruins housing the Inner had been impregnable for millennia. Its ancient inhabitants had been trapped without renewal. In their own paradise, they had slowly succumbed.

Now they were shadows: violent, pervasive forms drawn towards any being still able to feel. Like leeches, they sought to drain and absorb the experiences of others. Without subtlety or restraint, they would tear their prey’s Inner apart.

Rhea knew they were beyond redemption. The Inner had no dimension, so she could remain beyond their reach simply by moving herself away. For now, the revelations had left her weary, and she longed to leave.

Rhea focused once more, and her Inner awoke within the ruins of the Atreus Teeth. She found herself looking through the eyes of one of the many constructs lining the walls of the disassembly chamber.

She could freely enter and leave the Inner, but her original body had been destroyed. Without it, she could transfer her consciousness between constructs—from sleek, beautiful forms to gigantic armoured titans. It was a discovery her brother Voust had already enjoyed exploiting.

A form more suited to her would serve better than the armour-clad knight she currently inhabited. Rhea cast her thoughts back into the Inner, and a shape she remembered took form before her.

She looked down at her hands. The scar that had once marked her wrist was gone, but otherwise, this body was as she remembered. On familiar feet, Rhea passed through the massive doors and returned to the world. Behind her, she left the core of all she had become and set out towards her fate.

Within the twisted ruins, Voust had already awoken. He walked past his own remains in the disassembly chamber, studying their design as flashes of his former life danced before him.

Almost an eternity ago, his physical form had been unmade here and his consciousness transferred into the Inner. Within it, he could manifest entire universes to explore, exploit, or destroy. He was a god beyond reprisal or consequence—free to do whatever he desired.

Unlike Rhea, who recognised the danger of placing such power in beings with so limited a grasp of emotion and fulfilment, Voust saw only opportunity. He immersed himself completely, learning and experiencing all he could.

While Rhea spent an age aiding the planet’s survivors, he lived a hundred lifetimes indulging every fantasy and whim. Worlds formed and died. He created and killed, rose and fell, plunging headfirst into every depravity, indulgence, and fulfilment.

After what seemed a billion lifetimes, Voust experienced something he had not expected: the slow dulling of his senses. As eternities of pleasure and pain passed, he grew numb and began to understand the shadows haunting paradise.

Eventually, no extreme, no world, and no story woven by his will would make him feel anything. He too would become a hollow husk—alone, empty of emotion and thought. His Inner needed to be refreshed, and all at once, Voust understood how to revive it.

Clad in a construct of lavish extravagance, Voust descended to the planet. In his absence, Rhea had aided many civilisations. He exploited the godlike status the settlements had reluctantly given her and put his plan into motion.

Voust had no wish to share the Inner’s power. Instead, he would siphon what he needed directly from the inhabitants.

He constructed vast, city-sized torture chambers, pleasure palaces, gladiator pits, theatres, and countless other habitats in which to study and harvest the experiences of those inside.

Only those of unwavering loyalty—those who worshipped Voust as a god—were admitted to the Inner, where they would fight in his ever-expanding army.

Disgusted, Rhea tried to stop her brother’s plans—but Voust trapped her within the Inner.

Now she resides there like a ghost, searching endlessly for a way out. She screams silent warnings to those who live inside, while beyond their paradise, Voust’s dominion continues to grow.