The sky burned in shades of dying gold and blood-red as the sun sank beyond the horizon. The world below lay silent, drenched in decay. Corpses — dozens, perhaps hundreds — littered the plain like fallen leaves after a storm. Once-green fields were now nothing but blackened soil and ash. The wind carried the stench of rot, thick enough to make the air itself seem diseased.
In the east, where the land dipped slightly into shadow, something shifted among the dead. A single body twitched. Then another. Slowly, a pale hand broke through the tangle of limbs, trembling as it clawed for air.
From beneath the weight of death, a boy crawled out. He looked about fifteen, his skin ghostly under the dim light, his dark hair matted with dirt and dried blood. His movements were sluggish, confused — the slow stirring of someone caught between nightmare and waking. He rose to his knees, then to his feet, and stared.
Before him stretched a landscape of ruin. The earth was cracked, the remnants of structures half-swallowed by time. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the soft hiss of wind and the distant cry of crows circling overhead.
He covered his nose as the smell struck him — a thick, sickening wave of decay. His stomach turned. Fear set in, sharp and paralyzing. The boy stumbled backward, his eyes darting around as though searching for something familiar, something alive. There was nothing. Only corpses and silence.
Then, instinct — raw and primal — took over. He turned and ran.
He didn't know where he was going, only that he needed to leave this place. His feet pounded against the dirt, his breath coming in ragged bursts. Each gust of wind carried with it whispers of the dead, the faint rustle of flesh and bone shifting underfoot.
"How... on earth did I end up here?"
The sun vanished completely behind the horizon. The world grew darker, the sky twisting into a sea of storm clouds. Lightning flickered in the distance, illuminating the cracked earth for a heartbeat before plunging it into darkness again. The boy — pressed on, his body trembling from exhaustion and cold.
The first drop of rain struck his cheek. Then another. Within moments, the heavens broke open. Rain fell in torrents, pounding against the ground with furious rhythm.
Through the downpour, he spotted a shape ahead — the faint outline of a building, half-collapsed and worn by time. It stood crookedly against the storm, its wooden walls dark and splintered. Desperate for shelter, he staggered toward it.
The door creaked as he pushed it open. The smell inside was no better — damp, mold, and something faintly metallic. But it was shelter. He stepped inside, the floor groaning beneath his weight, and sank against the wall near the entrance.
For a long moment, he simply sat there, breathing hard, the rain a steady roar outside. Lightning flashed again, flooding the room with brief white light. The walls were cracked, furniture overturned, and the ceiling above barely intact.
Then, as the light faded, he realized something strange.
The room should have been pitch-black. Yet he could still see.
Every detail — the splintered boards, the fallen chair, even the faint outlines of old stains on the walls — was perfectly clear. His heart quickened. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, but the clarity remained.
Something moved.
At first, it was only a shadow — distant, standing at the far end of the hallway that led deeper into the ruined house. Lightning flared again, and the shape became clearer.
A figure stood there.
Tall. Twisted. Human in outline, but not in form. Its arms hung low, too long, ending in claws that gleamed faintly even in the dark. Its chest rose and fell with slow, deliberate breaths, and from its mouth came a low growl, deep enough to vibrate through the floorboards.
Eric froze. His pulse thundered in his ears.
The creature tilted its head, and for an instant, their eyes met — two pinpoints of faint crimson burning through the darkness.
Then it moved.
The thing began to walk toward him, each step heavy and deliberate. The air grew thick with a presence that made his skin crawl. Eric's legs moved before he even thought about it. He turned and bolted through the open door, back into the rain.
The storm had grown violent. Wind howled through the ruins, rain lashed against his face, but he ran — faster than he had ever run before. His body felt light, almost weightless, his feet gliding across the ground. The creature's roars echoed behind him, but the sound began to fade.
He was faster. Much faster.
The realization barely had time to register when a flash of motion caught his eye — a claw slicing through the air from his left. He ducked instinctively, his body bending backward just enough to let the strike miss by inches. The sudden movement threw him off balance, and he tumbled to the muddy ground, rolling before coming to a stop.
Pain shot through his body. He looked up — and froze again.
Five of them.
Five creatures, all like the first, surrounded him in a loose circle. Their shapes loomed against the flashes of lightning, their claws glinting as they flexed in anticipation. Their breath steamed in the cold rain, thick and heavy.
Eric's heart pounded. His hands trembled. There was nowhere to run, no weapon to fight with.
The creatures moved as one.
They lunged, claws outstretched, hunger in their eyes.
He had only a heartbeat to react. He raised his arms instinctively, a futile attempt to shield himself from what was coming. He braced for pain, for the tearing of flesh—
It never came.
A sudden stillness fell over the world.
The air crackled. The rain itself seemed to hang mid-fall, frozen in place. The creatures were suspended in the air, their claws mere inches from Eric's face. For a moment, everything was silent — utterly silent.
Then the world detonated.
The creatures burst apart, their bodies ripped into shreds by an unseen force. Blood and mist exploded outward, carried away by the storm. The air shuddered with the echo of the blast.
He gasped, blinking through the haze.
And there — standing in front of him — was someone else.
A man.
At least, he looked like one. His figure was tall, his frame calm and composed amid the chaos. Eric couldn't see his face because it was enveloped in a white blinding light— only the back of his dark coat, the faint shimmer of light that traced its edges under the rain. The aura around him was immense, suffocating, like a force of nature barely contained in human form.
The man spoke, his voice low and even, but it carried through the storm with impossible clarity.
"Eric," he said. "I've been waiting for you… for a very long time."
Eric's lips parted, but no sound came out. His mind spun with questions — Who are you? How do you know my name? — yet none of them reached his tongue.
The man took a step forward, the ground beneath him trembling faintly. "Now that you're back," he continued, "it's time I give you what belongs to you."
Eric could only stare, confusion and awe mixing in his eyes. Rain streamed down his face, cold and relentless. The man's presence felt overwhelming, ancient — as if he carried centuries within his voice.
Then, the stranger's tone softened.
"It's time for you to go back," he said quietly. "You're needed."
The air around Eric shimmered. A faint light began to rise from his skin, growing brighter with every second. He felt his body lift from the ground, weightless, the rain no longer touching him.
"Wait—" he tried to speak, but the sound was swallowed by the wind. His vision blurred, the world around him dissolving into white.
And then he was gone.
The rain continued to fall, washing the last traces of blood and ash into the earth. The land was silent once more, save for the wind whispering through the ruins.
The man stood there for a moment longer, his gaze fixed on the spot where the boy had vanished. Lightning flashed one final time, outlining his figure against the broken sky.
A faint smile curved his lips — not of joy, but of quiet inevitability.
"Finally," he murmured.