Kael ventured into the Whispering Plains, a vast expanse where the souls of the dead were so numerous that their voices blended into an eternal murmur. Each step he took stirred ripples in the pale glows surrounding him. The hunger's voice surged, seductive and insistent, whispering promises of unimaginable power if he would only surrender.
The Sight stretched outward, revealing threads intertwined, some frayed and chaotic, others surprisingly resilient. Kael carefully guided them, learning to manipulate not just individual souls but entire networks of the dead. Each soul required attention, awareness, and understanding, and the sheer scale of the task tested him mentally and physically.
Hours became days as he moved through the endless expanse, carefully threading control without consuming, restraining without domination. The whispers of the dead were relentless, voices overlapping, emotions spilling into his consciousness, and Kael felt the strain on his identity intensify. Yet he persisted, weaving structure from chaos, learning patience, control, and the limits of his power.
When he finally emerged, he was stronger, wiser, and more attuned to the Sight. He understood the scale of the world he now inhabited, the power he wielded, and the grave responsibility that came with it.