Crossroads
Adrift, a wanderer floats through the realms, lost in the space in between. Glimpes of people, places, things - as they all pass by, never quite tangible enough to grasp. Though the time in each dimension is fleeting, they record what they can. Pages and pages of a never-ending notework, words wrought on the very void itself.
Crossroads is the notebook of the Scribe, a mysterious being whose consciousness flits between worlds. Only ever able to observe, never interact or affect, they were lost in the multiversal void. To make sense of it all, they wrote what they saw - the cultures, nations, religions, and people of the worlds they visited. Sometimes, they would find a world they had already visited, and were given the chance to learn more - other times, the worlds would come and go in an instant.
The passing of time is strange here. A day has passed in one world, yet a millenia in another. I have forever wandered this plane, yet I myself have not aged. Sometimes I wonder what brought me here, what my purpose could possibly be. Other times, I think it obvious. As ages pass, I see families, communities, those who have one another to depend on. Yet I am alone.
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