The void stretched endlessly, a realm without time, shape, or sound. Yet, in its silence, something stirred—a spirit, an ancient essence, neither alive nor dead, endlessly drifting through the in-between. It had no name, no memory, just an aching sense of purpose forgotten eons ago.
And then it happened.
A crack, a shimmer of light in the unyielding darkness. It was as if the fabric of the void itself was tearing apart. The spirit felt a force—a pull—dragging it through the rift. For the first time, it experienced motion, chaos, and an overwhelming sense of being.
The spirit fell through the chasm, a swirling cascade of color and sensation, until it slammed into something solid, warm, and living.
It opened its eyes—or rather, his eyes.
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A boy gasped, his body jerking upright on the cold wooden floor of a modest home. The last thing he remembered was the destruction of the world, his body being pulled by a mysterious force, and his friend's distant shouts. But now...
He felt different. His thoughts and body no longer felt solely his own. They churned with memories that weren't his—fleeting images of a world far from his own, with barricaded cities, monsters, and people with enigmatic powers.
"Raiden!" A lady's voice pierced through the fog of his thoughts. She burst into the room, her eyes red-rimmed but wide with disbelief. "You're awake!"
The boy's lips moved to speak, but the voice that came out of his mouth was too measured, too foreign. "What… happened to me? Where am I? Who am I?" he asked, the words tinged with an accent he didn't recognize. His name, his whole being… Who was he? He couldn't remember.
The woman froze, her joy flickering into hesitation. "Raiden, are you… alright?"
The boy wrestled with his newfound reality, confused and disoriented. He couldn't yet comprehend what had transpired, but one thing was certain: this was not the world he saw crumble down before his eyes.
Outside, the world seemed alive with an energy he had never felt before. The air crackled faintly, as if this dimension held secrets it had yet to uncover. And deep within the boy's body, he sensed something powerful—a dormant force waiting to be awakened.
The boy's body—whom the woman had called Raiden—and this mysterious new spirit were now bound together, their fates irrevocably intertwined. Memories began to surface, flickering like slides in a presentation. His life, his demeanor, and even his deepest secrets unfolded before the spirit's eyes, feeling strangely familiar, as though they belonged to him. If not for the knowledge of being a foreign soul inhabiting this body, he might have fully believed he was Raiden from the very beginning. But now, he fully embraced this new identity. He would become Raiden—not out of choice, but out of necessity. If living as Raiden was the only way to uncover the truth behind his arrival, then so be it.
And then, clarity struck. At last, Raiden knew where he was. Jorden, a planet bearing a striking resemblance to Earth, thrummed with a unique mystical energy. This energy, vibrant and alive, became the source of countless wonders, including the creation of the Seraphs—humans endowed with supernatural abilities.
"Ethereon."
That was its name. The energy that coursed through every corner of this world was called Ethereon. A living force, it was believed to be the very soul of Jorden itself. Ethereon permeated everything—living and non-living alike—binding and sustaining all existence in a delicate, mystical balance.
As this knowledge poured into Raiden's mind, he felt a light flickering on, as if everything just went in place. His trance was then abruptly broken. Before him sat the woman, tears streaming down her delicate face, her sorrow palpable.
"Ra-Raden... I am so sorry." she bawled. "It was all my fault."
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Hours passed, and the woman's tears finally subsided. The silence that followed was heavy but comforting, like the calm after a storm.
Through fragmented memories and the woman's soft murmurs, Raiden learned more about the life he had stepped into. Her name was Melissa, and alongside her husband, Jonathan, they were the parents of the boy whose body he now inhabited. Melissa owned a small convenience store nestled in the heart of the city—a modest livelihood that kept her busy while ensuring her family's needs were met.
Jonathan, on the other hand, was a Seraph—a protector and wielder of great power. His duties often took him far from home, leaving Melissa to care for Raiden on her own. At the moment, Jonathan was away on a mission, his absence leaving an unspoken void in their household.
Melissa smiled faintly as she brushed a stray hair from Raiden's face. "Your father always said you'd grow to be as strong as him someday," she said softly. "You have his determination, you know."
Raiden tried to smile back, but the weight of her words pressed against him. Strength? Determination? The qualities she attributed to her son didn't feel like his own. Moreover, after possessing the boy's body, Raiden found out he was adopted.
He had been just a baby when Melissa and Jonathan found him abandoned in a dumpster, a memory shrouded in fragments and shadows. The face of the woman who left him there was obscured, a void in his recollection that refused to give clarity. Yet, none of it had mattered to the couple. They took him in, gave him a home, and loved him as if he were their own flesh and blood.
For eighteen years, they raised Raiden, cherishing him as their son. But fate had other plans. The real Raiden had died, and in his stead is a foreign soul inhabiting his body—a tragic end tied to the rites of their world.
In Jorden, all individuals between the ages of fifteen and eighteen were required to undergo a series of trials, tests meant to determine their potential. These trials evaluated whether one could awaken as a Seraph and wield extraordinary powers. Raiden, as per his result, had been a potential candidate, a discovery that propelled him into the grueling process of forced awakening.
Melissa's voice trembled as she recounted the events. "You passed every test. Everything seemed fine—no signs of strain, no warnings." Her eyes glistened, her words faltering. "But when we got home, you went to your room to rest, and... and..."
Raiden listened in silence as the pieces fell into place. The boy had collapsed the moment he reached his room, succumbing to an unseen toll the tests had taken. Panic consumed Melissa as she called her husband and then the emergency hotline, but it was too late.
By the time anyone could respond, the soul that had once been Raiden was gone. In its place was him—a foreign presence inhabiting the body of their son.
Raiden's throat tightened. He felt the weight of Melissa's sorrow and the enormity of the life he was now tasked with living. He was an intruder in this world, yet somehow, he had been chosen—or perhaps cursed—to fill the void left behind.
He clenched his fists. If this life was now his, he owed it to the boy whose name he carried to uncover the truth. About why he had been drawn into this strange, aching world.