Chapter 26: The Dimension of Others
Scene One: The Shattered Arrival
The moment Rian stepped through the shimmering portal, everything changed.
Gone were the flames, the ash, the memories of burning truths. Instead, he found himself suspended—floating weightlessly in an infinite space filled with countless floating islands, each shaped like fragments of shattered mirrors. The stars above bent and twisted around him like they were watching, whispering.
"This is not a dimension… this is a mindscape," he thought.
Below him, one island flickered, glowing with a strange bluish hue. As he drifted closer, he saw figures moving—people. Not just people… versions of himself, walking, talking, fighting… laughing.
One Rian sat with friends he never had. Another stood tall as a soldier in a uniform from a world that never existed. A third knelt over a lifeless body, screaming in grief.
"Welcome," a soft voice whispered in his ear.
Rian turned instantly. There was no one.
"You've entered the Dimension of Others… and you are all of them."
The ground shifted. Suddenly, he fell—his body plunging toward the glowing island.
He landed hard. Dust and silence greeted him. Around him, hundreds of versions of himself stood in a wide circle, watching.
Some with scars, others with weapons, some broken, others shining with light.
And in the center stood a throne of glass, empty.
"Choose who you want to be… or they will choose for you."
Scene Two: The Council of Self
A cloaked figure stepped forward from the crowd. His face mirrored Rian's, but his eyes were lifeless. Mechanical.
"I am Rian-17," he said. "From the Warborn dimension."
Another Rian emerged, this one armored in gold, a smug grin on his face. "Rian-Alpha. The Sovereign of Twelve Suns."
A third, barefoot and calm, bowed silently. His presence felt… ancient.
Rian looked around, swallowing hard. "What is this place?"
A collective voice responded. "It is where you confront your potential."
Each version of him was a path, a possibility. Some lived in peace, others in pain. One was a tyrant. One was a martyr. One—he noticed with a shiver—was a serial killer, grinning with blood on his hands.
"This is ridiculous," Rian said. "I'm not any of you."
"Not yet," Rian-17 replied coldly. "But you could be."
A laugh broke the silence.
From the shadows emerged a version of Rian dressed in tattered robes, juggling knives and humming.
"Oh, come on. You really think he's going to pick one of us? We all know how he works—confused, impulsive, dramatic…"
Rian blinked. "Who are you?"
"Rian-Jester. I'm you when you stopped caring and started laughing."
He flipped a knife into the air and caught it. "By the way, you're standing in the Circle of Choice. You get five minutes before the Game begins."
Rian took a step back. "What Game?"
The glass throne behind him began to crack.
Suddenly, a loud voice echoed:
"You must earn the right to be who you are."
A portal opened in front of him, showing a massive arena with creatures—some humanoid, some monstrous—waiting.
They were not him. They were others.
Versions of his enemies, his regrets, and even people he'd never met… but who somehow knew him intimately.
Scene Three: The Game of Mirrors
He stepped into the arena.
All around him, the sky pulsed like a heartbeat. The crowd—thousands of versions of himself and strangers alike—roared in silence.
A floating announcer, made of fragments of glass and light, hovered above.
"Let the Mirror Game begin!"
Rian was handed a curved blade—not metal, but a shard of solidified memory. When he looked at its surface, he saw his past: pain, laughter, betrayal.
The first opponent stepped forward. A version of his mother—eyes glowing, wearing armor of shadows.
"Why did you leave me?" she asked, her voice both hers and not.
"I didn't—" Rian choked.
She attacked.
The fight was not physical. Every swing brought back emotions: guilt, grief, moments he buried.
He didn't strike her—he embraced the attacks. With every cut, he whispered truths to himself.
"I was scared… I was trying… I didn't know how to stay."
The image faded.
The second opponent: himself, at age 12. The day his father left.
The boy threw accusations. Called him weak. A coward.
Rian knelt before the boy.
"You were right," he said. "But I didn't stop walking, did I?"
The boy vanished.
One by one, the challengers came. People he hurt. People he never saved. Even one girl he didn't remember but who whispered:
"You saved me. And forgot me."
Tears streamed down his face.
The final opponent emerged—a cloaked figure. Rian couldn't see its face.
"You're not me," Rian said.
"No," the figure said. "I'm what you could become… if you never stop lying to yourself."
They fought. And for the first time, Rian felt the fire inside him answer—not with anger, but clarity.
"I'm not perfect," he said. "But I'm still walking. And I will keep walking."
He drove the blade into the ground. The arena exploded in light.
Scene Four: The Voice Behind the Curtain
Back in the mirror realm, silence reigned.
All the other versions of Rian stood still, then slowly began to fade.
Only one remained—the barefoot one.
"You passed," he said softly. "But not because you fought… because you accepted."
He pointed to the throne.
"You are ready to sit."
Rian approached. The glass throne had repaired itself. As he touched it, the fragments rose, surrounding him, becoming armor.
Visions poured into his mind: future worlds. Other dimensions. Allies and enemies.
Then, a whisper:
"You are not the only traveler."
"She is coming."
"She remembers you."
Rian's eyes snapped open.
"Who?"
No answer.
The dimension around him began to collapse. Not in destruction—but in transformation.
A new gate formed—glowing with violet and silver energy.
A voice he had never heard before… but felt familiar, echoed in his mind.
"Come find me, Rian. Before they do."
"Before the end begins."
Rian took one last breath and stepped through.
⸻
End of Chapter 26.