Jasper's footsteps echoed through the narrow streets of Wallux as he walked, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows around him. The bustling town was a blur of activity—merchants hawking their wares, children playing in the alleyways, and the scent of freshly baked bread mingling with the crisp autumn air. Yet, none of it registered with him. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by a relentless throbbing in his head that seemed to grow more intense with each passing moment.
Memories flitted through his mind like fragments of a dream—disjointed, elusive, frustratingly incomplete. He could recall certain things clearly, like the battles he had fought, the faces of enemies he had vanquished, and the cold, calculated decisions he had made in his life. But there were other memories, ones that danced just out of reach, hazy and distorted, slipping through his grasp whenever he tried to focus on them.
