We're not going to tell you someone is waiting for you. Maybe no one is. Maybe this text sits at zero readers for six months. Write it anyway. That's it. There's no moral.
The best worldbuilding is like a house where no one ever visits the cellar. You know it's there. Sometimes you hear something move below. Nobody needs to go down to believe it.
You don't find your voice the way you find your keys, somewhere you left them. You write it, text after text. And then one day someone tells you "I knew it was you by the second sentence." And you don't even know what they recognized. Do you ? Do you know what people recognize in your sentences ?
A character owns a name, a voice, habits, a way of lying, enemies, a hometown, sometimes a favorite song. They own no body, no verifiable birth date, no fingerprints. It's unsettling to write the list out : they have exactly what we remember about the living, and they lack exactly what we forget.
A manuscript in a drawer isn't a book yet. Not out of publishing snobbery : because it's missing an organ. The text supplies the words, the reader supplies the rest : the faces, the voices, the temperature of the room. Writing means delivering work half-finished on purpose. The missing half doesn't belong to you.