Darkness was never unfamiliar to me,
but this… this was something else.
There were no walls, no ground, not even air to remind me I was alive. Just a void—and I was suspended within it. I couldn't feel my body, could see nothing but an endless blackness.
Then, a voice came:
"The shadow… does not die."
It wasn't a man's voice. Nor a woman's. It was something else—like the echo itself had chosen to speak. I looked around, searching for a source, a figure, a shape... Nothing. Just pure, absolute darkness.
"You are not just flesh and blood. Remember this… when the pain returns."
Then everything vanished.
I woke to the screech of iron.
The air was cold, suffocating, and the dampness gnawed at my bones. I found myself lying on a stone floor—cramped, barely enough room for my body. The walls were smooth, the ceiling low. A cell, no doubt about it.
My hands were bound by thick iron chains, etched with carvings I couldn't recognize—but I felt their effect instantly. My power… gone. No shadow, no echo, not even an inner scream. Just… emptiness.
"The shadow does not die..."
I repeated the words in my head, recalling the void, that voice. It hadn't been a dream. It was a message. But from whom? And why now?
Before I could finish my thoughts, the door creaked open with a heavy metallic groan.
Caster stepped in.
His eyes weren't mocking as I expected… they were calm. Cold.
"I knew you were coming," he said simply, as if talking about tomorrow's weather.
"But what I don't understand is how you fell so easily."
He stepped closer, eyes flicking from the chains to me.
"Have you grown weaker? Or have I… simply grown stronger?"
A faint smirk curled his lips—half pity, half contempt.
"The Higher Beings warned me of your approach. Imagine… the mightiest forces across realms concerned about you... and assigning me to finish you off."
He fell silent. Pacing the cell, as if inspecting it like a work of art.
"But they don't see you as a hero. No. You're nothing more than a nuisance… an experiment… a game to be broken."
He leaned down, his breath cold against my skin.
"You know what's funny?"
His voice dropped to a whisper:
"They couldn't kill you. They tried. They failed. So… they left you to me. Like a hunter leaving the prey to his hounds."
I raised my head and looked into his eyes. I said nothing.
He was the one who looked away first.
Standing straight, he spoke with a colder tone:
"If you think you still have a chance, try. Do it. Break free. Kill me. Shatter these chains."
He opened the door, and before stepping out, added:
"You're not a hero. Just a shadow… lingering a little longer before it fades."
Then he left me alone.
I stared around the cell.
Every stone, every line, every crack… there was no way out.
The chains weren't ordinary. They weren't just to restrain the body—but to suppress everything I was.
I felt their weight. I felt them feeding on the remnants of shadow within my blood.
I tried to move, strained every muscle, pulled the chains, was willing to tear off my own arm if needed…
But nothing.
Everything was calculated… perfectly.
Not long after, the door opened again.
But this time, it wasn't Caster.
It was him.
The old man.
The elder from the Anver clan.
He stood at the threshold, his eyes glowing beneath the torchlight.
"I figured you'd need more than luck this time, boy."
I stood there, stunned, watching the old man as he approached me slowly, leaning on his staff, as if time itself walked with him.
He didn't glance at the chains that bound me—just walked forward, pulled something gleaming from his pocket.
He didn't speak.
Just raised his hand slowly, passed it over the chains.
The carvings on them began to fade—one by one—until they vanished completely.
Gone.
As if the chains had lost all their power.
I was in disbelief.
How?
How could this old man break such bindings so effortlessly?
Before I could speak, he gestured for me to follow.
I followed him without thinking.
He walked with steady steps, never looking back—like this place was an old road he knew by heart.
We passed through narrow corridors, and as we approached the exit, something strange happened.
The guards looked at us, but their eyes were fogged over… as if they didn't see us.
Or perhaps… didn't care.
The path was clear.
And the old man moved through it quietly, never changing his pace.
Suddenly, I stopped.
I looked at him and asked:
"Who are you? Why did you help me?"
He was silent for a moment.
Didn't answer directly.
He turned slowly… and smiled a strange smile.
Then his face… changed.
As if it tore apart and reshaped itself.
The face before me was no longer that of an old man,
but a woman—with green hair, forest-green eyes, and ornate white robes.
I was stunned.
I couldn't hide my disbelief.
"Serina?!"
I whispered.
She looked at me with a mocking smile, her green eyes sharp and provoking.
"You're a mess right now. Far weaker than you used to be."
I didn't respond, but a fire was boiling in my chest.
How?
Why was she here?
Serina raised an eyebrow.
"I won't tell you what happened, or how you became this weak. But after everything, I've decided to help you. You might think I'm working for Caster, but the truth is… we share a common enemy."
I tried to grasp it, but the words stumbled from my lips.
"Enemy?"
"Yes. Caster. After Seraphim's death, Nirvana became his primary target. Its wealth, power, endless potential… He sees this world, Arsen, as nothing but an obstacle—too harsh, too chaotic. So… Seraphim's death was the perfect opportunity."
She smirked, almost mockingly.
"But I'm not helping you because you're a hero. And I don't care to see you defeat Caster. No. I'm helping you because I don't want Nirvana to become a battlefield for powers I don't believe in. If you want to kill me—do it. But I'll help you because I see in you a chance to stop Caster."
She paused. Then continued, her voice indifferent to what might happen to me:
"You're in a pathetic state. But if you think the path ahead will be easy—you're wrong. If you want to reclaim your power, you need to stop playing in realms that are far beyond you right now. Because if you don't… the consequences will be more than you can bear."
Her words were heavy.
And every passing moment felt heavier still.
"You mean… I'll die?" I asked.
"No. Not if you learn how to deal with what's happening around you. But you must be careful. The path to regaining your strength ends in disaster. Be careful what you wish for."
Without another word, Serina disappeared into the shadows as mysteriously as she had come, leaving me alone… unshackled.
After she left, I wandered through the corridors of that dungeon, staying away from the light, thinking of everything I'd heard.
Her words were heavy, stirring a storm of emotions inside me.
I had many questions, but no longer knew where to begin.
But I understood one thing clearly—Serina was right.
Everything had changed.
The balance of power had shifted.
I was no longer the being I had been centuries ago.
And I had to face that change.
The time had come.
And I had made my decision:
If I was to reclaim the strength I lost, the only path forward was adaptation… and a change in strategy.
And for now,
Silence and shadows… were my only companions.