The Alien and the dead

The souls of the dead flock to the millenisium light and instinctually build their city with it. And the living come and revere the place of construction as if it were holy ground; a site of reverence. The dead build constantly without constraint of gravity, time or space and do so with the strange ecstasy of a people who have been without home for eons. A Jumble of architectural styles, the rooms and patches of land that make up the construction are each reflections of the soul which inhabits it. If you were somehow to step back and see it as a whole, you might perceive the slight heaving of breath as the otherworldly structure inhales and exhales towards infinity.

An Unseen Hand of Reason

Perhaps they were running from fear and came stumbling into this place for comfort. Or maybe they were drawn to it like groggy eyed dreamers into a light. Underneath all of the seeming improbabilities of their meeting they were all brought together by an unseen hand of reason. It was a presence that they had all known for their whole lives.

It weighed their resolve. Waiting patiently, nudging them when necessary until one day they could be brought together within the presence of the Eschaton.

...and only then would their lives truly begin.

The day came, and it sent out a call. Many came to the city, their dreams giving form to the feeling within their heart. Dreams that could only be fulfilled if they were pursued.