After the Nothing

When the world learned how to lose, it did not disappear; it changed its work. Life continued in silence, not as triumph but as rhythm. Hands kept building, order kept breathing. What was taken did not vanish; it gathered itself into light, small, contained, unafraid. Souls did not ask to return; they chose to remain. Stone stayed standing, not as strength but as witness. The land remembered what belief once carried and what responsibility now holds. This is not a place of endings. It is where stories grow older, where imagination learns weight, where loss becomes structure, and light finds new shapes. Nothing went dark.