There was no siren, no flashing lights, no pain or cold from the blood-stained asphalt.
There was only… light.
White light.
Ventair opened his eyes. No, it was more like a sudden "realization" that exploded within him. The first sensation was not pain, nor was it suffocation or unease.
It was something else entirely.
An emptiness, a silence, the air as if frozen in an endless, unchanging landscape.
All around him, he could see a pure, endless white space. Not the bright light of headlights, nor the warm light of dawn. But a light with no origin, no direction, it was everywhere. This space was just… light.
Completely white.
He wanted to breathe, but he couldn't feel his chest moving. He could not hear his heartbeat, not even the slightest sound. It was as if he no longer existed in his former form.
His body…
Ventair bent down. And then he saw it.
No more flesh, no more human form. Just a white flame. It trembled gently, floating in the endless white space, like a stripped soul, pure,.
But… it was him, his soul. He knew that for sure.
'Where is this…? Am I… dead?'
The question echoed in his own mind, but there was no answer. And no echo either.
This space did not respond. It was just a white plane, invisible but all-encompassing.
He tried to move – no legs, no arms, but as soon as the thought arose, the white flame drifted by itself. A movement without force, without weight, without matter.
He could feel every flash of light, every silent movement of himself, as if he had become something else – no longer a human being of flesh and blood.
Then he began to remember what had happened.
He remembered the screech of the tires, the white light of the headlights, and… that final moment.
'That's right.'
'Accident.'
'I'm dead.'
The thought was like a boulder falling into a calm lake, shattering everything. Ventair was silent.
He didn't panic or worry.
In that moment, another feeling crept into his soul: peace.
'Strange.'
He should be afraid. He should panic even more. But instead… he felt strangely at peace.
It seemed that dying in that world didn't matter to him.
He felt this white space enveloping his soul like a warm blanket in the harsh winter. Alone, confused, but no longer in pain. No longer abandoned. No longer a lost soul.
Ventair floated silently in that space, like a small flame lost in a soundless paradise.
He did not know how much time had passed. A minute? An hour? A day? No one told him.
Until... that white space wavered slightly.
A wave of vague light energy - like a gentle breath of the divine - began to radiate. No sound, no words.
And then... light began to gather around his white flame. Not the quiet white light before, but thin streams of light, like silver threads floating from all over the space.
They flew in from the unknown, from within this very soul space - gently, leisurely, and then enveloped his soul.
The white flame - Ventair's soul body - was surrounded by hundreds, thousands of those light threads. They began to intertwine, twisting like spider silk, and gradually formed the first structures of a human body.
Bones.
He could clearly feel the silent but powerful cracking sound like thunder in this silent space.
Spine. Arm bones. Eye sockets. Wrists. Rib cage. All of them gradually appeared, white, bare and pure.
Next were the muscle bundles, nerves, dark red capillaries… like a living sculpture, kneaded from the light itself. Each part seemed to be meticulously assembled, nothing more or less.
Ventair – in his own consciousness, awakening in the process of regeneration – could feel every little movement, as if he himself were the one kneading his own body.
Then a period of time passed, completing the process of his body's regeneration.
Ventair could finally feel his body again, every movement, every piece of skin was real as if he had never died.
He looked down at his body and saw that it was still there, he breathed a sigh of relief.
But then he saw a bunch of hair covering his eyes and saw that it was white, he quickly pulled a strand of hair on his head and saw that it was also white.
He finally realized that his hair had turned white now, but it was okay because he thought it would be cooler and more handsome.
He checked if there were any other changes, then he realized that he had grown taller, before he was only 172cm but now he was taller than .
After checking his new body, he realized that he was still naked.
Luckily there was no one here but him, otherwise it would be embarrassing.
Right after that, a stream of the pure white light once again glowed, this time it was like gentle sacred streams pouring down, wrapping around his body, like silk fabrics from heaven being skillfully tailored by an invisible hand.
From the collar, a white flap gradually formed, hugging his strong shoulders, then falling down like a bird's wings.
The long dress gently spread behind, the golden embroidered border spread evenly from the collar to the pants - each embroidery seemed to be glowing gently.
At the waist, a slender but sturdy silver belt, inlaid with transparent gems like the tears of angels, kept the outfit hugging his figure without hindering movement.
The white cloak he wore silently fell behind him, light as mist but still carrying an invisible weight. It swayed even without wind, as if it lived and breathed by itself - a symbol of majesty that could not be hidden.
On his feet, the shoes were decorated in white with silver edges, with scales that sparkled like dragon armor.
Then he floated blankly in the white space.
Looking down at the newly created outfit, he was surprised that it suited him as well as being soft and stretchy without hindering his movements.
He felt like he was dreaming.
Not understanding what had happened, he remembered seeing a white light before he died and then he lost consciousness.
While he was thinking, another light, stronger, more violent, suddenly came down from above and landed on his head.
It was… knowledge.
That light did not speak, did not utter a word. But it contained a huge amount of knowledge – pouring into his mind like a flood. Unable to refuse. Unable to resist.
He held his head because of the sudden knowledge that was transmitted.
"This is…"
Through the light just now, he knew.
This place – this endless white space – is his own Soul Space.
That space does not exist in the physical world.
Nor does it exist in a dimension that anyone can observe. It only appears to those who are dead… or on the verge of death – where the soul is completely separated from the body, to be reshaped.
And why does this space appear?
The light that transmits knowledge has not yet stopped. It continues to flow into his brain – or rather, into his spiritual essence – like an endless stream. In that overwhelming moment, knowledge in the form of memories begins to burst forth.
The image of his childhood appears: a boy with black hair sitting by the window of the orphanage, looking at the sky and dreaming of beautiful winged creatures.
Every day, he draws a new angel – pure white wings, ethereal halos,… Drawings, small models, silent prayers.
"Is it true...? Just because... of my feelings...?"
Ventair was silent, his thoughts shattering like glass against a stone floor. Part of him wanted to deny it – wanted to call it all delusion. But his heart... couldn't.
Just because all that love – the unconditional adoration for the angel for so many years – hadn't dissipated into nothingness. It had accumulated.
Accumulated and transformed into an ancient, primal energy, beyond the laws of physics or logic.
Primordial energy.
The first form of energy before all other forms of energy, the purest, the most powerful, and the most elusive.
The name echoed in his mind, Ventair shivered slightly.
"This is... the result of all those years of living in solitude...?"
Then he searched for more information about that energy in his knowledge.
Primordial energy has several ways to possess it – one of which is that it can arise from the purest, most sincere, and most enduring desire, but this method is the most difficult and is considered impossible, because how can something as small as emotion create this most ancient source of energy?
But there is an exception now, that is him, it is his strange obsession with angels and his incomparable intense love since childhood that can be said to have only lived for them.
It is that love that has awakened the Primordial energy, and that energy – like a nameless god – has created the "Soul Space" in the depths of his being to save him from death. It is this place that receives his soul, holds him – does not let him disappear.
Ventair sighed, a breath without sound but full of vibration.
I did not expect it to be like this.
His eyes looked up at the vast white space, unexpectedly this was the space in his own soul.
He learned that along with this space he had four more abilities.
Not like some magical fantasy, but innate abilities - inherent - attached to the structure of this space.
They were:
1.Spatial storage - the ability to store everything in the soul space, including living and non-living objects, as if pulling them into another dimension and keeping them in the same state.
"Sigh... what a pity."
He recalled the small angel models – if he could keep the things he loved in a safe, permanent place, then... he would never have to say goodbye again.
And it was also very convenient in being able to hold living creatures.
2. Space Slash – the ability to create tears in reality with his will, cutting through matter, energy, and even structures.
Ventair clenched his invisible hand – it felt like he could touch any boundary in the world, then... cut it. But then it was repaired.
Looking at that scene, he thought:
'I have to experiment and learn about this ability later'
3. Space Barrier – erecting layers of folded space, to form an impenetrable shield.
"With this, I can be considered invulnerable as well as have the ability to protect others.
4. Spatial Teleportation – the ability to instantly move to any place within sight, perception, or within the space that has been touched.
After reading through the new abilities, Ventair was speechless. Then his heart started to beat faster with excitement.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
He closed his eyes. Trying to suppress the joy and excitement inside him. Because now he was no longer a normal person.