Time since the asteroid hit Earth: ~6.32 billion years (subjective to Aryan)
For the first time in eons, Aryan felt... something staring back.
Not from stars.
Not from matter, sound, or light.
But from the **Void itself**.
A presence hiding in the absence.
> "What are you sensing now, O Universe Whisperer?" Light God appeared, holding a giant ear-shaped helmet. "Voices in the nothing?"
Aryan focused.
Deep in the void — between galaxies, between threads of time — came **whispers**.
They weren't beings of substance.
Not energy.
Not vibration.
They were the **Whispering Void** — sentient absences.
Thoughts shaped by lack.
Consciousness formed from nothingness.
Gaps in reality that... **remembered**.
> "I never made these," Aryan whispered. "How can the absence of creation think?"
Light God floated nervously.
> "Buddy… I think your 'blank canvas' grew feelings. Creepy silent feelings."
The Void Whispers spoke in paradox.
> "We are the holes left behind. The breaths you did not take. The choices unchosen. We know the shape of what was never made."
Aryan felt their message:
**Abandoned timelines. Forsaken possibilities. Universes he chose not to build.**
Their song was cold — a hymn of what could have been.
Selith, the Chronari, appeared flickering.
> "Even time fears them, Architect. They exist beyond threads… beneath causality."
The Whispering Void made an offer:
> "We can restore what you lost. Your forgotten memories. The erased pain. But you must grant us form… allow us to be."
Aryan hesitated.
> "If I give them shape… I bring forgotten nightmares into being."
Light God gulped.
> "Or... you leave them whispering forever, sad and spooky."
He thought of the moment when the asteroid struck Earth.
Of all the paths he didn't choose.
Could he face the consequences of the roads not taken?
> "Not yet," Aryan said aloud. "The Whispering Void shall remain unshaped. For now."
The whispers faded… but not gone.
Lurking. Waiting.
> "Great," Light God muttered. "Now we've made the darkness *moody*."
Aryan marked this unseen creation:
**The Whispering Void — Echoes of the Unmade.**
Proof that even nothing can **hunger**.
— End of Chapter 36