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It felt like warmth, like the sensation one gets when stepping into a sunbeam on a cold day.
The smell was nostalgic, like the pages of an old book, an odd mixture of sweetness, like honey, and a hint of something else, something profoundly familiar and yet tantalizingly out of reach.
As our life forces drew nearer, I felt a rush of memories, some long forgotten, others distorted by time, but all undoubtedly mine.
These weren’t just events, but sensations, emotions, the touch of familiar hands, the sounds of laughter and cries, the sights of myriad landscapes, the tastes of lifetimes’ worth of meals, and the distinct scents associated with different epochs of my existence.
It was overwhelming, an intense sensory overload.
Yet, amid the onslaught, a picture formed.
The reflection of a woman, identical to the one Thillak and I had seen during our intimate moments.
It was me, but not just the current me.
It was a culmination of all my existences, every version of me that had ever lived.
The chanting of the Balance grew frantic, their words more desperate.
Their masks, which had always seemed impassive, now radiated unease.
The once synchronized and harmonious chanting had taken on an edge of panic.
I could feel the vibrations underfoot as they shuffled around, trying to comprehend and control the situation.
Their distress was palpable.
They hadn’t anticipated this.
They were the keepers of balance, but even they had limits to their understanding.
In their quest to maintain the equilibrium of the universe, they had overlooked one crucial thing: the unyielding, unbreakable connection between Thillak and me.
The shimmering spirit, now dense and clearly defined, was only inches away from me.
With its approach, a gentle, floral fragrance enveloped me, a comforting aroma that seemed to seep deep into my soul, grounding me amidst the tumultuous events.
The touch of the spirit felt like a cool breeze on a hot day, a sensation that tingled and soothed, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
As the spirit floated before me, the room erupted in chaos.
The Balance, their voices raised, screamed at one another to close the vortex.
Their movements were frantic, their composure completely lost.
They were afraid, truly afraid, perhaps for the first time in their existence.
The vortex, that once magnificent swirling spectacle, now became unpredictable, its movements erratic.
Yet, in the middle of the maelstrom, I remained calm.
I looked towards Thillak, our eyes meeting in a shared moment of understanding.
We were united, not just by love, but by an intricate tapestry of shared experiences and lifetimes.
As the vortex continued to rage and the Balance scrambled to restore order, one thought rang clear:
We had turned the tables.
