It was cold, dark, and lonely.
There was no breeze to whisper to him, no voice to be heard at all. There was nothing to rely on, to recline on. There was no movement at all. And he was held down by an invisible force that seemed so far away yet held him in place.
This was all that Zeras could feel, and he had been like this for how many years now? 10, or 20, perhaps 50? The sense of time had long been robbed away from him.
But he was well aware of who he was, and that was the thing he clung to.
"I am Zeras. I am an idiot that gave away all my power, to know what it feels like to become an embodiment of all. My goal is to find my parents and seek for the answers of my origin. I was once a Chaos Devourer for the longest of time. I am faking to the world that I am a Giaran. The last race I am is a beyonder. I used to be a human once too..."
How many times have those words been repeated, he didn't know.
