Supreme Emptiness Novels & Stories

"You are just the Latest Refill" The sickle lashed out, and a beam of Liquid Despair hit my chest. It didn't burn; it Emptied. I felt my "Sovereignty" being labeled "Available Surplus"; my love for Eryx was being labeled "Bond-Energy for the Next Cycle". "Eryx, the iron... it’s Hollowing Out!"

EVERY PATH EVENTUALLY ENDS IN EMPTINESS. But Cole and Lila knew better. They had seen the paths that branched into endless possibilities, the choices that created new choices, the lives that touched other lives and made more life possible. “You’re wrong,” they said together, their voice echoing through every door, every world, every moment. “Choice is endless. Paths are infinite. Emptiness is just one choice among many—and no one has to take it.”

I'm not sure why, but it hurts like hell that he has such an impact on me. It's as if there's nothing there. A gloomy emptiness. A never-ending dark void that eats everything, leaving you with no sensations. Empty. Nothing can quell the emptiness of your hollow spirit, which lurks in the shadows, away from any other human life because it can't stand to pretend that everything is well.

No careful calibration of emotion for an audience. What I saw was worse than any of those things. It was emptiness. A vast, hollow, echoing emptiness where a person should have been. Not the emptiness of sadness or grief or loss — those are full emotions, dense with meaning. This was the emptiness of absence. Of something that was never there to begin with. As if the Lily I had grown up with — the sister, the rival, the shadow — had always been a projection of humanity, and the thing behind the projection was simply... nothing.

Zumir asked, gazing at the full moon that illuminated the night. “Your energy might not be enough for that distance, Zumir. It might only weaken you,” answered Supreme Atcandis. “I was there just the other day, Father. I felt no shortness of breath. I returned safely,” Zumir replied, his crimson eyes glowing as he looked at him. “My body cannot withstand the journey. I might die in space,” said the Supreme with a soft laugh. “Don’t worry, Father. I’ll take care of you. If you feel weak, I’ll lend you a portion of my energy,” his son said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The silver eyes stared up from the endless abyss. They did not glow with the warmth of the Source. They did not burn with the sorrow of the Creator. They did not carry the loneliness of the Shadow. They held nothing. No anger. No hatred. No compassion. Only absolute emptiness. The moment they opened completely, every sound in creation vanished. The wind stopped. The stars became motionless. The rivers flowing through distant worlds froze in place. Even the beating of my own heart disappeared. It was as if existence itself had forgotten how to breathe.

The First Thought turned toward him. “We can't keep doing this.” The man shook his head. “We have no choice.” “There is always a choice.” “Not anymore.” Emily stepped closer. “Who are you?” Neither figure seemed to hear her. The man looked toward the First Thought. “If you create another, the cycle continues.” “I know.” “And if you don't?” “Everything remains empty.” The man looked at her. “Then perhaps emptiness is better.” The First Thought shook her head. “No.” “Why?”

“Sophie said something similar when I saw her. That I was still whole. That I shouldn’t let anyone act like I wasn’t. I believed her when she said it. Tonight I mostly just feel empty. Not broken. Just… emptied out.” “Empty can be a kind of rest,” Mom said. “Not the good kind. Not the kind you choose. But the necessary kind. The kind that lets you sleep and get up again tomorrow.” We stood there for a while without talking. The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator. Outside, a car passed and then the street settled again. Eventually I pushed away from the counter. “I’m going to shower and go to bed. I don’t think I'll have another conversation with me tonight.

Faces rose behind my eyes. Those who hadn’t made it out of the clearing. Warriors who’d taken blows meant for me. People whose names I’d only just learned, whose lives had been clipped at the edge of my story. Joy, at being alive and free, tangled with that guilt until it was hard to separate one from the other. A third feeling slid in under both. Emptiness. Not the bad kind. Just… absence. A space where constant crisis had lived, now suddenly vacant. “What does a girl who’s only ever fought,” I whispered to the empty room, “do when there’s nothing left to fight?”

because now he saw it clearly. “This isn’t balance,” he said. The words low. dangerous. “This is emptiness without her in it.” The shape didn’t react. because that wasn’t its concern. Its role wasn’t meaning. Its role was result. Zayden turned away. looking out at the world. The one she built. the one she gave herself to create. His chest tightened. because now he understood something else. something worse. The mark on his chest flickered. almost gone. but not completely. never completely.