He opened his eyes to a world that did not know him.
No name. No memory. Only darkness breathing in his chest.
The air was thick with ash, the ground cold beneath his palms. When he tried to stand, the world tilted — like even gravity had forgotten him. He saw his reflection in the black water nearby, and for a moment, the face staring back wasn't his. It smiled when he didn't.
Whispers crawled across the wind, voices calling from somewhere deep — too deep. Cain.
The name struck something inside him, sharp and wrong, yet familiar enough to hurt.
He felt pieces of himself missing — not just memories, but pieces that mattered. Something ancient pulsed under his skin, like a heartbeat that wasn't his own.
He wanted to see the light. He wanted to remember who he was.
But every step toward the light made the shadows stir — and he began to understand:
The darkness wasn't following him.
It was his.