Nothing.
A whole bunch of nothing stretches infinitely. Forever. In all directions, only white.
No up, no down, no building, not even any other colour, just pure blinding white. Like that one painting… Rabbit in a Snow Storm or something.
The air was still and empty, like all sound had been stripped away, leaving only an empty void in its wake.
Strangely, a lonely figure appears, or maybe it was always there. Everything in this void becomes unclear.
The figure wore a white hood. The hood's colour is a little bit duller than the stark white, making it the only reason it is seen. Its face and proportions were hidden, but somehow, the figure is known to be a He.
What in the world- where the fuck am I?
Shaken, he tries to run in every direction, trying to escape the maddening monotony. He runs and runs, minutes go by, even hours pass, or he thinks that much time has passed, until he stops and hunches over, exhausted.
"Having fun there, kid? It was fun watching you run around like a headless chicken, aHAHaAaHAAA!" An annoying, high-pitched voice laughs from behind the hooded man.
Startled by the voice, he quickly turns around, trying to locate who said that. It doesn't take him long to find out. As he spins around, he finds… a floating yellow triangle.
What? He takes a step back, surprised at it.
When inspecting the thing closer, it wasn't just a yellow triangle. It… he? Whatever. He had two black legs and arms, like those stickman characters from those YouTube videos.
On his head, or the pointy tip, was a thin toppat (Note: not a top hat). But the most intriguing part was the massive eye that opened like a sliding window, with eight eyelashes, smack-dab in the middle.
"HoohOOHoo, you look stupid as hell, kid, you should see your face right now! HAaHAHaAaHAAA!" The floating triangle gasps out loud, kicking his legs in the air.
Wait, haven't I seen this guy before?
"Bro, I haven't laughed like this in ages! HAaHAHaAaHAAA! … hehe…"
I swear I've seen this guy before. He's like an actor from a TV show or something. But I'm still too confused and can't think straight for some reason.
*snap!* *snap!*
The triangle snaps obnoxiously before the young man. "Hey kid, cat got your tongue? It's boring talking to yourself, man. Trust me," the pyramid says.
Dude, you talk too much. Shut your trap. The guy tries to say it, but no sound comes out. After two minutes of trying to say a word, he throws his hands in the air, frustrated.
"Guess you can't, huh? Makes sense now that I think about it," One-Eye says.
"Oh yeah, I haven't told you my name yet, have I?" The guy, just now realizing this, nods.
Changing his accent to a posh British one, he says, "Well, if you must know, I am Bartholomew, Percival, Guacamole, Pecan, Jeremy the III"
This dude's not being serious, the guy thinks. He looks at the shape with his arms crossed, giving him a rather annoyed look.
Reverting to his normal accent, he says, "Come on, I almost got you! Fine, fine, if you seriously want to know, it's Cipher."
Cipher? What kind of name is that? Granted, he's not human, but still… Cipher?
"Kid, if you REALLY want to know my actual name, it's first name, Markov, last name Cipher. Friends call me Markov Cipher, and my enemies call me… the same thing. AhaHAAHAaha! Ah, I crack myself up sometimes. Put it there, pal!"
As soon as he said his name, it was like a switch was being flipped. His normal high-pitched voice dropped an octave lower, and somehow, he made an ominous look, all with just one eye.
As Markov said, pal, he put his hand out, wanting to shake the hooded guy's hand. And, just for a second, it looked like small blue flames erupted from it.
Out of instinct, the guy outstretched his arm, about to shake Markov's hand. Just as he was about to, he remembered something. Never shake Markov's hand, no matter the circumstances.
Wait a minute, I shouldn't do this. Why am I here? Why is he here? Why can't I speak? And why in the holy hell can't I remember anything? Why is that the only thing I can remember?
With literal milliseconds before he shakes Markov's hand, he suddenly clenches his own, making what was supposed to be a "friendly" handshake into an awkward fist-bump/high-five.
Huh, it feels like a regular person's hand. Nothing different. Weird.
"Heh, guess you didn't lose ALL your marbles, huh, kid? Just the important ones," Markov says disappointingly, retracting his hand. His voice changed to someone bored.
I think I made the right call. Pretty sure touching blue flames ain't a good idea.
"Alright, you won't shake my hand, cool. Like, really cool. But haven't you wondered why you're even here? Of course, you have! That's what you've been doing the entire time! AhaHAAHAaha!" Markov says, his voice returning to high-pitched, which was probably his default setting.
"Well, if you seriously want to know, just follow me, kid," Markov states while turning around, a black cane materializing out of nowhere in his right hand.
Wait a minute, why should I follow him?
As he was still pondering what to do, Markov kept going, his feet never touching the "ground" while whistling up a catchy tune. His bright yellow figure was getting farther and farther away.
"You got better places to be, bro?" Markov calls out. "Believe it or not, I ain't doing this out of the kindness of my heart."
Damn it, he's right. There's nothing else anywhere. It's either I die from boredom, or I follow this geometric freak to god-knows-where.
Markov's form was now almost as big as a penny and steadily decreasing. He can go pretty fast for such a talkative shape if he wants to.
Ah screw it, he thinks to himself, trying to catch up to the annoying triangle.
After countless minutes of walking, suddenly Markov broke the silence by mumbling, "Man, I don't get feelings at all."
What? Where'd that come from? And why do I have a feeling that I agree with him? Also, where the hell are we going?
Markov abruptly stops in his tracks, suspiciously quiet, his cane hanging from his hand, making the guy also ground to a halt.
The unknown dude looks around, trying to see if anything is different from earlier.
I guess we're here? It's still just white, though, and it all looks the same as before. Legit, nothing is differe-
Suddenly, almost like it had been there the entire time, a massive five-story building just appeared, a lonely marble fountain bubbling peacefully in front of it.
Okay, what the hell is going on? What is that?
Wait... I recognize that building. It's foggy, but isn't that... a high school?
"Ding, ding, ding! Folks, we have a winner!" Markov sarcastically says while rolling his eye. "Alright, listen, kid, I don't got a lot of time." Markov looks down, and a silver Rolex magically appears on his arm.
Haha, very funny. Can you make some fries, too? I'm hungry as hell.
"I'm pretty sure all you gotta do is find seven doodads scattered around everywhere that seem somewhat important, alright?"
Huh?! Wait, what?!
"And after you find the stuff you need, you have to go back to square one, alright?"
Timeout for a minute, square one? What does that even mean?
"Says here that as soon as you find all the stuff you need, they should, don't quote me on that, they should guide you to where it all began."
He looked up from his watch, which magically disappeared when he dropped his arm. "So, you got all that?"
NO! No, I did NOT get all that! The guy tried to wrap his head around Markov's instructions, but couldn't see where it all would lead, so he gave Markov another exasperated look.
"Don't look at me like that, I don't know what the hell I'm doing here either! I'm supposed to be an intergalactic space demon who can destroy universes, but for some reason, I'm stuck here. With you."
Okay, what?! I didn't ask for you to be here.
"Uhh, kid, you did. How do you think I'm answering your questions without you speaking? Matter of fact, where do we think we are?"
I don't know! I have no fucking idea! I just want to go home-
"Welp, guess my time's up. See ya round, kid," Markov winks and evaporates out of existence, with no sound. Just gone.
Everything that was to come and everything that was, has already happened and is now beginning.