Zephyr harbored questions, craving insight into the enigmatic world he found himself thrust into. Unfamiliar with humanity, he drew parallels between them and vampires, the closest semblance to other supernatural beings. Understanding the state of this unfamiliar world was imperative for his survival, yet his immediate concern lay in escaping his confining cage.
As he crawled, weakened and disoriented, Zephyr vowed retribution against whoever confined him, despite doubting his physical capabilities against even the most ordinary human, let alone the mysterious creatures he vaguely remembered from his past. Nonetheless, he pinned his hopes on the lone individual who had spoken since his awakening.
Immobile and disconnected from his own body, Zephyr persisted, gradually regaining control over his once-limp form as time trickled by.
"I'm not weak, you pathetic human vessel!" Zephyr's internal voice roared as he mustered the strength to stand, albeit unsteadily, for the first time since inhabiting this unfamiliar form. His legs trembled like jelly, making it a struggle to maintain his balance. Despite the difficulty, he pressed on, determined to confront the other occupants of the prison.
Enduring the agony pulsing through his weakened limbs, Zephyr persevered until he reached his destination, only to collapse upon arrival. Frustration boiled within him as he cursed his feeble body for its inability to support him adequately.
"Foolish, feeble body," he muttered bitterly, recognizing that adapting to this new vessel was crucial for his survival in this unfamiliar world.
"Listen, old man," Zephyr began, addressing the man with a sense of urgency. Seated on the ground, he scrutinized the man with brown hair, estimating him to be in his early forties based on his mature appearance. However, age held little significance to Zephyr, having lived through 66 human years before meeting his demise at the hands of supernatural kings.
Reflecting on his own extended lifespan as a vampire, Zephyr considered himself remarkably youthful at the time of his death. Unlike humans, supernaturals boasted longevity, often spanning centuries before succumbing to death, typically by unnatural means.
Observing the others in the prison, Zephyr surmised that they appeared much younger, likely in their twenties, akin to his own age before his transformation into a vampire.
"World order, huh?" The man's words struck a chord with Zephyr, who sensed a hint of incredulity in the man's tone. Meeting the man's gaze, Zephyr noticed a flicker of discomfort before the man averted his eyes. A chill ran down Zephyr's spine at the subtle reaction, prompting him to wonder about the man's unease.
As the man continued to observe him, Zephyr couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized. A realization dawned upon him—this man's demeanor had shifted drastically since Zephyr's arrival six months prior. Formerly silent and aloof, he now exuded a sense of intensity, as if capable of striking without hesitation.
The monsters responsible for their imprisonment had been the sole source of fear for the man until now, but Zephyr's presence seemed to evoke a new sense of apprehension. Something had changed, and Zephyr couldn't help but wonder what secrets lay beneath the surface of their shared confinement.
The man answered without any prompting, stating, "This place we're in is akin to the second circle of hell, Paragox, also known as 'the Mine'—the name of this wretched place."
"Paragox?" Zephyr muttered, realization dawning. "So, that's the name of this place."
"Yes," the man confirmed grimly. "This is where supernaturals have imprisoned us, snatching us from an ambush in our town. There are others like us in cages scattered throughout Paragox."
"What? Supernaturals?" Zephyr gasped, comprehension flooding in as the once-blurred memories crystallized, revealing the truth of what had occurred.
After Zephyr's demise, the supernaturals, having vanquished the Shadow Lord, set their sights on a new objective: eradicating humans. Strangely, Zephyr had been the barrier preventing this, deeming humans too feeble to bother with. Even the other supernatural kings had disregarded humans, their primary focus being the Shadow Lord.
However, with the Shadow Lord's demise, humans were now viewed as a threat. Possessing abundant resources and inhabiting a thriving planet, they were perceived as superior and formidable adversaries upon closer investigation. The supernaturals, united by their shared goal, decided to eliminate humanity. Yet, they grossly underestimated human resilience.
Two realms stood at the forefront of this conflict: the Dark Realm, inhabited by supernaturals, with a crimson sun akin to Earth's, albeit slightly less intense; and the Earth Realm, home to humans (Homo sapiens). While other realms existed, they were not as densely populated as these two.
The supernaturals devised an invasion strategy, opening portals to access both worlds and launching relentless attacks on humans. Initially, this tactic proved effective, overwhelming humans who were no match for the supernaturals' might, led by the triumvirate of kings. However, as years passed and destruction reigned, humans began to evolve.
Despite the supernaturals' utilization of unfamiliar abilities that surpassed human comprehension, humans adapted and progressed. These newfound abilities amplified the supernaturals' strength, pushing humanity perilously closer to the brink of extinction.
The humans refused to surrender, devising a plan to combat the supernaturals. However, conventional firearms and nuclear weapons proved futile against the supernaturals' unique abilities. Undead creatures proved exceptionally difficult to kill, requiring precise shots to the head, while others, like the Night Crawlers, boasted nearly impenetrable skin.
Cornered and facing the imminent demise of their race, humans refused to yield. Their salvation came when they discovered a method to acquire powers of their own. Whenever a supernatural being perished, they left behind crystals imbued with the essence of their former strength. Through meticulous analysis and experimentation, humans unearthed the latent energy within these crystals, harnessing them as reservoirs of raw power.
With this breakthrough, humans learned to forge weapons and armor from these supernatural crystals, granting wielders formidable abilities. Though unsuitable for conventional firearms and explosives, the crystals proved ideal for crafting melee weapons like swords, imbuing them with durability and unleashing their full potential. Thus armed, humans stood ready to defy their otherworldly adversaries with newfound strength and determination.
The groundbreaking discovery spurred humanity into immediate action, realizing that their very survival hung in the balance. Heroes emerged, individuals gifted with extraordinary powers and equipped with gear that amplified their abilities, earning them the title of champions.
Empowered by these newfound abilities and armed with potent gear, humanity finally stood toe-to-toe with the supernatural forces. In a remarkable turn of events, humans managed to reclaim half of the territory conquered by the supernaturals, resulting in a tense stalemate that persists to this day.
Meanwhile, four years had elapsed since the outbreak of war and Zephyr's demise. Reflecting on his circumstances, Zephyr couldn't help but marvel at the passage of time since his death. "Four years have passed since my demise, yet it feels as though I transitioned into this body instantaneously," he mused. 'My death sparked the conflict between humans and supernaturals.' Realizing the pivotal role he had played in thwarting the supernaturals' advance, Zephyr lamented his absence and the dire consequences that ensued in his wake.
Zephyr's mind buzzed with newfound respect for humanity's resilience and ingenuity. 'Looks like humans are smarter and now stronger than I thought to reclaim what the supernaturals had conquered. One should know supernaturals are of different races,' he pondered, impressed by humanity's tenacity and resourcefulness. The thought stirred something within him. 'Maybe being a human isn't that bad after all. At least I can still grow in power. But first, I'll have to escape from Paragox and see the outside world.'
As Zephyr contemplated his next move, he was jolted from his thoughts by the man's voice. "Do you still wanna know about the world? You've been staring at the ground for a while now. Are you okay, or are you about to die? If you're about to die, please tell us, because there's already a corpse in here stinking up the place, and having another dead rotten body, we won't be able to take the stench," the man said, scrutinizing Zephyr closely.
Zephyr remained silent, his mind consumed with thoughts of survival and reclaiming his former power. Crawling to a different area of the cage, he absorbed the information he had gathered about his current situation. Now, his primary focus was on survival and gaining strength.
Upon reaching his chosen spot, Zephyr gripped the bars of the cage, pulling himself upright despite the weakness in his legs. Determination burned in his eyes as he stood, refusing to succumb to the fatigue. After all, he was the Shadow Lord, and surrender was not in his nature.
'I guess I'll just have to start from here. If I want to escape, I need to familiarize myself with this human body,' Zephyr resolved, his determination unwavering. He was prepared to train relentlessly, honing his new body until he was strong enough to break free from the confines of Paragox.
*****