A blinding white swallowed everything.
There was no pain. No sound. No weight to carry.
Only silence… and then a breath.
Sunny gasped.
His chest rose sharply, as if waking from a dream too deep, too real. But this wasn't Kanah. Nor was it Earth. The scent of blood and dust was gone. There was no sky. No soil.
Only an endless sea of light—soft, pure, and somehow… heavy with judgment.
He sat up.
Beneath him was a field of glass, smooth and silver, reflecting not his face, but countless stars above. A world floating in the void. It felt divine—terrifyingly pure. Like the kind of silence that came before creation… or after the end.
"Where… am I?"
His voice echoed, but the echo wasn't his.
> You have crossed the veil.
The sins of the forgotten have been weighed.
You have been cast into grace... not as mercy, but as test.
Sunny turned.
There was no one.
And yet, he felt watched—judged by eyes not human, but ancient. Watching his soul rather than his body.
And then he saw it.
At the center of the horizonless field stood a lone, black tree. Withered. Burnt. Yet alive. Its branches reached not upward, but downward—pulling something invisible from the air.
Underneath it was a mirror.
He stepped forward, hesitantly.
As he neared the mirror, it rippled—showing his face, then a younger version, then... Ren. Laughing. Holding him. Whispering something he couldn't hear.
Then, his reflection shattered.
Blood spread across the glass like veins. And the voice returned.
> Welcome to the Divine Realm.
Welcome home, soul of fire… child of punishment.