Pain

And in the void, there was only one word: pain. It was scintillating, almost like a neon sign on a crummy motel entrance. If this were not the eternity, the final frontier, it would have been laughable; a tasteless joke, welcoming its new inhabitants.

Pain. It flashed, colorless. Each letter taking its time, responding to its own unknown inner workings.

Pain, the void announced categorically.

And yet… I felt nothing as I drifted formless through the void. Massless, senseless, the perception of space was a vague memory of what I was and once knew. In truth, I was one with the void and the void was nothing but that word: pain.

But pain meant nothing. It was just an ornament that maybe served as a reminder of who we were before the void. Even that seemed a bit far-fetched: pain used to mean something when words had a meaning. But in the void, meaning was not important anymore. Pain was just an ornament that rooted me in the chaos of nothingness.

And I was one with the void and I was one with the pain. And I was limitless, and the pain was beautiful. And it scared me that I was dissolving in pain, and yet it was the only thing left to do.

And I could do nothing, for in the void there was only one word: pain.