Echoes Of A Threaded World
He woke up alone.
Cold.
Dust filled the air, thick and suffocating, settling into the corners of a forgotten workshop.
He had no past. No memories.
Only a name, and hands that remembered things he could not.
Beyond the fog, the city of Elisnae stretched into the horizon. A city where unseen forces collided. Giants who never cared where they stepped: the Crown, the Companies, the Nobles. Each smiled through clenched teeth, each wielded weapons the others dared not unleash.
The Garde patrolled the streets.
The Garde Royale moved in silence, shadows among shadows.
The Nobility hid behind masks, the Companies behind contracts.
And somewhere beyond the fog, the Xenio worked alone, answering to no one, owing allegiance to nothing.
In this fragile balance, his presence was a threat.
He was not meant to be here.
Yet his body remembered.
How to survive.
How to fight.
How to hide.
How to kill.
The first lie had been that no one remembered him.
Now they were listening, watching and most importantly questioning.
Had someone brought him back?
He did not know who he was.
He did not know why he was here.
But something had led him here.
And something else was watching.
He was not supposed to wake-
Unauthorized recall detected.
Processing the anomaly…
Who are you?
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The Rien’s Workshop2025-07-10 02:24
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