***
In a dark and desolate room, a single light glowed — seemingly coming from a box. A young man sat in front of it, legs folded, hunched on a chair.
he had long and messy hair purplish in hue most of them were thrown on his head improperly without any care. The young man was scrawny and weak, he was small yet
he gave out a sense of disgust, He radiated a quiet kind of disgust, as if dirt and apathy clung to him like a second skin. seemingly he hadn't taken care of himself in
many days or weeks.
He was sitting on a chair Infront of his laptop his eyes hidden by his purple and long hair. he mindlessly scrolled through what seemed to be a bunch of words.
biting on nails, his mind blank. without any thoughts he was rummaging through those long paragraphs, showing hints of joy, excitement and sadness with each.
Then, came a bang, a loud bang which was accompanied by his chair falling sideways.
He fell sideways, rolled around to face his ceiling, as he stared at the lonely and dark ceiling, its silence louder than any scream.
He was shaken. His mind… still blank as a canvas. It had been a long time since he'd even considered talking to someone.
Too weak to move. Too broken to fight his slow demise. He had given up long ago.
He couldn't even conjure thoughts as his head remained clear, he had long lost all of these cognitive habits, talking-thinking-planning. things like these were alien
to the young man.
As blood sprawled from his cracked skull on the floor a tear went down his cheek, he clearly couldn't conjure a thought… yet he felt these emotions in full clarity.
Agony, Regret, Disappointment, Self-loathing. Experiencing such a spectrum of simple yet complex negative emotions he blacked out, unable to do anything as he waited for his demise.
He was dead.
***
He woke up.
Or rather — he became aware.
There was no gasp, no sharp inhale, no heartbeat pounding in his ears. Only the soft rustle of something alive around him.
His body was different — not larger, not stronger — just... not the same. But his mind, still blank, still void of clear thought, remained untouched. The same
fractured consciousness in a vessel that didn't belong.
He lay on damp earth, unmoving. Around him stretched a forest drenched in shadow — ancient, hollow, and wrong. The trees loomed like monuments, crooked and tall,
draped in thick, crimson vines.
The vines pulsed.
Moved.
Watched.
They writhed around trunks and across the floor like slow snakes made of muscle and rot. They seemed blind — or indifferent — as long as he stayed still.
Their movement slowed when he didn't breathe.
He understood none of it.
Yet he knew this: if he moved, they would know.
He was not welcome here.
But he was here.
Alone.
Again.
***
It had been a few hours since he woke up, the youth looked around and understood he was on a hill. it was then that he finally looked up. he was bewildered,
astonished. He looked at what he saw...
A giant bone, which gave him a sense of dread, it seemed to be a part of a giant skeleton. He was stuck in place his eyes open wide.
Then something shook, inside him, he felt his clear head gain a sense of his surroundings, he shivered.
his lungs burned. He clearly felt blood run through his body… he felt warm. his mind felt full and then…
'Where am I?'
He was surprised at himself. he managed to create a clear thought. a wide smile split his face.
Then cutting him off a familiar set of runes appeared out of thin air, it was not that he could see them before… rather he knew what they were.
Name: Silias
True name: —
Rank: Aspirant.
Soul Core: Dormant.
Memories: —
Echoes: —
Attributes: [Vestige of the Forgotten], [Graveborn],
[Hollow Crown], [Divine Marrow]
Aspect: Gravetouched
Aspect rank: dormant
As he... Silias looked at his runes, he diverted his gaze at his aspect description.
Aspect: [Gravetouched]
Aspect Description:
[Marked by death, but never freed. A burden neither alive nor dead—lost and soon to disappear.]
He scoffed
"So, you tell me I am dead before I even take a step? truly like the nightmare spell I know."
Then Silias pondered. why was he at a death zone? was this the first nightmare? but if so, why didn't the spell announce?
"...Why this place?"
He wasn't expecting an answer. No one ever got one.
The bone. The air. The silence.
He knew where he was. He just didn't know why.
As soon as he completed his sentence it hit him, the sound from his whispers reached had reached the writhing vines in distance.
as he felt dreadful, he shook his head.
'I refuse!'
Without having time to look at what he could do with hos aspect, or his attributes. Silias looked at the vines which came for him.
he crawled backwards, and stood up.
He had to run, or He wouldn't live...
His legs moved before his thoughts could catch up. One step. Then another. Then a desperate, staggering sprint through the rot-choked forest. His lungs burned. His vision blurred. Each breath tasted of mud and copper.
He didn't dare stop.
Something behind him had noticed.
The trees twisted past in flashes of bark and crimson vines. He had no weapons. No tools. Not even the whisper of power. He wasn't even in the First Nightmare.
Then why did the world feel so real?
No spell. No transition. Just… this.
His legs trembled beneath him. His skull throbbed like it would split. Still, he pushed forward — until the ground dropped out from beneath him.
There was no warning.
He skidded to a halt on soaked mud, teetering at the edge of a steep cliff. Below lay a valley — lush, alien, pulsing with strange life.
He stared.
Blue bushes like glowing embers. Greenish-black trees twisted into impossible shapes. Crimson vines spread through it all like living veins. It was beautiful.
And wrong.
Behind him, the forest growled. The vines stirred.
He had no time.
So, he jumped.
The fall wasn't clean. Rocks cut into his skin. Vines slapped against his arms. When he hit the valley floor, he didn't rise. Not right away.
But he lived.
And far above, something shifted.
Like the world itself had taken a different breath.
Like the spell had… missed its mark.