The first sensation Atahsaia Vire experienced was not one of sight, sound, or touch. It was the crushing weight of confusion, a dark fog that swallowed him whole, rendering everything in a dull, muted blur. For a moment, there was nothing—no past, no future—just an abyss of nothingness, cold and hollow.
Then came the pain.
It started as a distant throb, like the gentle beat of a drum far in the depths of his mind. Slowly, it began to crescendo, clawing at the edges of his consciousness, until it became all he could focus on. His chest felt tight, as if constricted by an invisible force, and his limbs—heavy, sluggish, alien—refused to obey his commands. His body, it seemed, was a foreign thing, as if he had been placed into a vessel that wasn't his own.
Where am I?
The thought swam through his mind, but it was jumbled, fragmented. His senses flared to life with the effort of recalling anything—anything at all. It was as if his very identity had been scattered, like broken glass, sharp and unreachable.
Gasping, Atahsaia forced his eyes open.
The first thing he saw was a sky so dark it could swallow the sun. Twisted black clouds roiled above him, churning with unnatural fury. The ground beneath him was rough, cracked earth, riddled with jagged rocks that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction.
He tried to move, but his body refused to cooperate. His fingers twitched involuntarily as if in response to some unknown impulse, but the rest of his limbs felt locked in place, like they were made of stone.
His mind was racing, but he couldn't focus. Every thought felt like it was slipping through his fingers. Where am I? Who am I?
A sharp gust of wind cut through the barren wasteland, sending a gust of dirt into his face. It stung like sandpaper, scratching at his skin and forcing him to blink rapidly to clear his vision. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest now, the rhythm quickening as the panic began to settle in.
He wasn't alone.
A shadow moved in the corner of his vision, shifting like a predator in the wilderness. He twisted his neck to follow its movement, and that's when he saw it.
A figure—a creature—stood at the edge of the rocky terrain. Its body was humanoid, but it was wrong, a grotesque distortion of flesh and bone. Its limbs were unnaturally long, too long, and its skin was slick and pale, stretched tight over its skeletal frame. Its face—if it could be called a face—was nothing but a mass of dripping, tangled flesh, with hollow sockets where eyes should have been.
It stepped closer, its movements slow and deliberate, like it was savoring each step.
Atahsaia's body screamed at him to move, to run, but he couldn't. Panic set in like a choking grip around his throat.
Think. Think.
His mind scrambled for a solution, anything that could save him, but the world around him seemed to twist and distort with each passing second. He didn't know where he was, or why he was here, but one thing was painfully clear: he was not in control.
A guttural growl rumbled from the creature's throat, and its lips pulled back in what could only be interpreted as a grotesque grin. Its jagged teeth gleamed in the dim light, and a slow, terrible understanding bloomed in Atahsaia's chest. This thing—this... monster—was coming for him.
Time slowed as it took another step closer.
Focus. Move.
Forcing his body into motion, Atahsaia managed to shift his arms, lifting them weakly toward the ground. His fingers scraped against the earth, grasping for something, anything to defend himself.
Then, with a sharp crack, his wrist snapped.
Pain exploded through his arm, whitehot and allconsuming. His vision blurred, and he gritted his teeth, biting back a scream. But there was no time for weakness. The creature was almost on him now.
He couldn't think, couldn't process, couldn't move—his body was locked in place, each attempt at action growing weaker.
No!
The thought echoed through his mind like a drumbeat, pushing him beyond the limits of his exhaustion. He couldn't die here—not like this. He had to do something. Anything.
With a surge of desperation, Atahsaia reached deep inside, searching for something that would allow him to survive this nightmare. And that's when he felt it—a pull, a deep, ancient energy coursing through his veins, awakening in his very soul. It was raw power, untamed and wild, thrumming like a heartbeat beneath his skin.
Without understanding why, he drew it up into his chest, channeling the power through his broken wrist, desperate for anything to defend himself.
The world around him seemed to tremble as his body flooded with new energy. His vision cleared in an instant, and the pain in his wrist vanished. In its place was something... different. Something that felt almost like his body was no longer his own. The raw, unrefined power was coursing through him—pulsing, surging, alive.
He clenched his fist, summoning the energy outward, and with a terrifying crack, the ground beneath him splintered. The creature let out a shrill screech as the earth erupted in a violent explosion, sending shards of stone and dust scattering in every direction.
The creature staggered back, howling in pain, but Atahsaia barely noticed. His mind was consumed by one thought.
Power.
He had power.
For the first time, in what felt like an eternity, Atahsaia felt control. The swirling chaos around him slowed, as if the world itself were bending to his will.
But that fleeting moment of triumph was shortlived. He could feel the energy slipping away, draining from him as quickly as it had come. The power was unstable—dangerous. He couldn't hold onto it for long.
With a final effort, he surged forward, throwing himself at the creature with all the strength he had left. His fist connected with its grotesque face, and it crumpled to the ground with an eerie, final thud.
Silence followed.
Atahsaia stood there, panting, his body trembling with the aftermath of his exertion. His mind buzzed with adrenaline, but beneath that, there was something darker—something unfamiliar. He had survived. For now.
But at what cost?
A strange sensation fluttered deep in his chest, a deep, gnawing ache that he couldn't ignore. It was as though a piece of him—somewhere deep inside—had been torn away.
His thoughts fragmented again, slipping like sand through his fingers. And in that moment, Atahsaia realized something chilling.
He wasn't in control. Not yet.
To be continued...