What is this place? He thought as he floats in the void.
Suddenly– He felt a pull like something try to merge with him and then, Darkness...
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The forest was damp and shrouded in fog, the scent of moss and blood thick in the air.
Rain trickled through the canopy, dripping onto the bruised figure sprawled against a tree trunk.
He stirred.
Branches creaked above, whispering secrets he didn't care to hear. The cold earth beneath him felt unfamiliar—yet… grounding.
He stood slowly, wincing at the dull throb in his back. Blood clung to his shirt, but it didn't matter.
Ahead, between the ferns and the roots, a shallow puddle had formed—dark and still, like a mirror set in dirt.
He stepped toward it.
A reflection stared back.
Unfamiliar. Yet known.
"Reymond Salazar," he said quietly. "The disappointment. The extra nobody wanted."
He crouched by the puddle, the wind sighing through the trees like ghosts of a forgotten past.
"Sylas Viremont," he continued, voice edged in steel. "The bastard heir who lost everything."
The puddle rippled as rain kissed its surface. Still, his gaze didn't waver.
"They both died. Pathetic. Angry. Alone."
He stood.
A crow called in the distance—sharp and echoing, as if the forest acknowledged what he had become.
"But I survived."
He turned away from the puddle, his back to the past.
"I am their sins, their regrets, their rage… refined."
"And I will rise."
He didn't look back. The trees bent slightly as if clearing the way. The world had no idea what it had just awakened.