The world returned, but not as it was before.
The first sound I heard was the beating of wings, not in the air, but in the void. The ground beneath me was not ground. It was a pulsating, black mass, moving like flesh and smoke at the same time.
There was no sky, only an endless gray, where ravens circled, always looking down.
Did I die?
I tried to breathe. The air cut inside me, cold and damp, as if each breath stole something from me.
I rose, but something weighed on my back. It wasn't fatigue, it was a cloak of soaked feathers, stuck to my skin.
What the hell. This has to be a dream, but it feels so real!
The tattoos on my body burned like runes seared into flesh. I touched my back to be sure: they were feathers.
They were glued to me.
A few meters away, old ragged cloth covered in black mud. When I touched it, a sharp cold ran up my fingers. It wasn't fabric. It was skin—dry and stiff, ripped from someone or something.
Fuck it. I'll put this on before this tattooed body kills me with shame, I murmured. If I see that bitch again, she'll pay in kind.
I put on the rags and looked around. Nothing made sense. The place looked like a graveyard of dead worlds with twisted, elongated trees. Yet, it didn't feel like death.
Far away, a metallic sound echoed. Not footsteps, but dragging chains. The sound came with a voice that didn't speak but pierced directly into my head:
Prisoner!
The ground trembled. Cracks opened, spitting out deformed creatures. They had no eyes, but I felt their gaze burning my skin. The wind blowing against me came from inside them.
A figure appeared on the horizon, tall, skeletal, with a throne strapped to its back and floating skulls around it.
Welcome to my board!
Something inside me changed. My body froze, but my consciousness was ripped away. In the blink of an eye, I was in the eyes of a raven, flying through the gray sky and looking down at myself, surrounded.
What the fuck is this? My mind raced. Is that really me?
The creatures started running. Jaws tearing wide to the ears, footsteps making the living ground tremble.
Without thinking, I dove with the raven. Hitting one with my beak was like driving a spear in. The head rolled on the ground, toppling the others. I seized the chance and landed on my own shoulder. I flapped my wings against myself, trying to return.
That's when one of the floating skulls from the throne lunged at me.
Get back, get back to the body, damn it! I shouted mentally.
My consciousness fell back into me the moment the skull hit.
BOOM!
The impact was so strong that for a second, I thought I had died again. But no. My body exploded into ravens.
Hundreds of them.
They flew, scattered, then joined again, forming my human shape.
What the hell was that? I whispered, gasping. Do I have powers?
A stabbing pain pierced my head. The creatures took advantage, running even faster.
I wasn't going to win this. Not now.
So it's escape, I decided.
I let myself dissolve. My body became a black cloud of wings. And like a swarm, I flew away from that place.
Strange! Seems like I have abnormal abilities!
But the voice returned, dragging itself through my mind:
Run, prisoner. Run. It's only the beginning.
I barely paid attention to that stupid voice.
I want to know right away what this place is. What am I doing here? Am I dead living or not even dead?
Haa, the air came out heavy, loaded. My patience is running out with all this. If this is a dream, they better wake me soon.
But when I remember my last moment alive, a contained rage mixed with that trauma that insists on breathing inside me begins to rise. I don't want to deal with it now. Not yet.
I look around and nothing makes sense.
The place is dark, but not like night, it's a living void. No moon. No sun.
Where the ground should be, there's a black mass pulsing like flesh and smoke mixed, moving at an irregular rhythm, almost as if breathing.
And the sky...
No, it's not sky. It's an infinite ceiling of ash suspended, spinning in slow spirals.
Before any confrontation, I need to understand my powers, I murmur to myself. Then, investigate what it means to be a prisoner and a board.
But my calm lasts little.
A crash cuts through the air.
The ashes spin faster, pulled by an invisible current. The ground beneath my feet shakes. Then, from the shadows, a form appears—not flying, but tearing through the space between us.
A colossal eagle. Its black feathers shine like broken glass, mixed with white patches that look like exposed bones.
Its tongue, long and forked like a serpent's, coils and uncoils, spitting cold vapor. Its eyes, a sickly yellow, fixate on me as if they already know my name.
My body reacts before my mind.
What the hell, is all I can say.
The beating of its wings displaces the air with force, scattering ashes and my flock of ravens!
And for a moment, I'm certain: it didn't come to scare me.
It came to devour me.