The cold hospital light flickered in a steady rhythm, an unrelenting beat that seemed to mark not only time but the fragile boundary between life and death. Azrael felt his body like an empty shell, floating in an indistinct space between consciousness and nothingness. Distant sounds echoed in his ears — hurried voices, running footsteps, the metallic clang of machines tending to his fragile existence.
But nothing made sense. It was as if he were trapped in a hazy dream, where the real world was a distant echo fading with each passing moment.
It was in that deep silence that the voice appeared.
It was a whisper — sweet, almost hypnotic — yet carrying an irresistible force that invaded his mind.
"Do not fear the end."
Azrael tried to open his eyes but felt paralyzed, a puppet to his own thoughts. The voice continued, firm and gentle at the same time.
"The journey does not end here. A path opens before you, but it is unknown and dangerous. Few can see it, fewer still can follow it."
A shiver ran down his spine. Fear and hope intertwined in a chaotic dance inside his chest.
"You have a choice: follow this path, or let yourself be consumed by darkness."
The voice faded into an echo, and with it, darkness swallowed him whole.
When Azrael finally regained consciousness, none of what he knew was there.
The air was dense, charged with an energy that seemed to vibrate in every particle around him. The sky, if it could be called that, was a fragmented mosaic, a confusing play of light and shadow where stars and clouds danced in an imperfect choreography.
He slowly opened his eyes, trying to understand where he was, but the confusion only grew. He felt his body — strong, different, yet strange. As if it belonged to him, but also to someone else.
Azrael's mind exploded with images and sounds, as if his past invaded his present in disconnected flashes.
The noise of the city vibrated in his memory — cars passing by, horns blaring, hurried footsteps.
The cold, sterile smell of the hospital, his mother's worried face by his side.
Voices calling his name, distant laughter in a park.
The life he had left behind.
So close and yet so far.
He tried to grasp these memories, but they slipped like fine sand. His heart pounded as he wondered, confused:
— Where am I? How did I get here? Is this real?
The questions came without answers, and the silence around him seemed to crush him.
Then he felt a piercing gaze, sharp like a blade. He slowly turned his head and saw beside him a figure he knew well.
Liora.
His twin sister.
She stared at him with contempt, her cold, merciless eyes as if he were an intruder in his own blood.
"You took long to return," she said, her voice sharp and heavy with disdain. "Weakness has no place here."
Azrael averted his gaze, feeling the weight of those words like a sentence. What was this? What place was this where he, who had always been a rising star alongside her, was now treated as a burden?
The pain of rejection mixed with confusion, creating a knot hard to untangle.
He moved to a dark corner of the room where he could think without being noticed. The air around him was charged, an invisible energy that seemed to pulse like a monstrous heart.
He sat on the cold floor, knees to his chest, and closed his eyes, trying to find some peace.
"Who... am I?" he thought, the question echoing in his mind.
Memories of life on Earth came and went like ghosts: simple routines, moments of joy, the little worries of daily life. The life he had before the accident, before that strange call dragged him away from everything.
But now everything was different. He was no longer the Azrael he knew, nor was he even sure if he remained the same.
"How did I end up here? Is this real?" he wondered, clenching his fists to his chest.
He looked around again. He was in a large hall, with other people passing and talking among themselves, some glancing at him, others completely indifferent. The environment exuded power but also a suffocating weight of secrets and rivalries.
"This family... this land..." the word formed slowly in his mind, full of fear and distrust. He knew he didn't belong here, and yet he was trapped.
Liora's gaze still burned in his memory. She was no longer the sister he knew. She was an enemy, a cruel guardian of a legacy that rejected him.
"If I want to survive... I will have to be stronger than everyone expects." The certainty grew inside him like a flame.
And the mysterious voice returned to whisper in his mind, soft and insistent.
"Do not fear the unknown. It is your ally and your enemy. Learn, grow, and maybe one day you will understand what you truly carry."
Azrael slowly opened his eyes, feeling determination rise like an ancient fire awakening.
He didn't know who he was, nor what his destiny would be — but he knew running away was not an option.
"I will find out... and I will no longer be a forgotten ghost."
Slowly, he stood up, his body firm even though his mind was still full of doubts. The path ahead was uncertain, full of invisible dangers and hidden battles.
But Azrael Vayden had already taken the first step.
And that step would change everything.