The world quaked, the ground trembling beneath the weight of the war between humans and the Riftborn.
Explosions rippled through the air, their deafening roars drowning out the cries of the dying and the screeches of the monstrous invaders.
Smoke blanketed the battlefield, rising like a shroud over a dying world, its acrid stench clinging to the back of Kael's throat even in his ghostly form.
Among the chaos, the soldiers stood grim-faced, their attention momentarily shifting to a smoking crater where their comrade had fallen. The plan to lure the Riftborn into a trap had failed miserably, and now they were left to pick up the pieces—or what little remained of them.
"He wasn't even an Awakened," one soldier muttered bitterly, his voice low and heavy with frustration. He gripped his weapon tighter, his knuckles white against the hilt. "What did they expect from him?"
"That idiot," spat another, his tone sharp with anger. "Told us he couldn't do it, and he was right. Fat lot of good that did him."
None of them felt sorrow for the man's death. Anger simmered among them instead—anger at his failure, his uselessness.
Some cursed his name loudly, their voices carrying over the din of battle, while others silently judged him, their eyes cold and unforgiving.
To them, he was just another casualty in a war that had already claimed too many lives.
It wasn't long before they moved on, their focus shifting back to the relentless fight against the Riftborn. The dead were forgotten as quickly as they had fallen, their names lost to the chaos of war.
"So that's how I died…"
A ghostly figure hovered in the air, his translucent form flickering faintly under the dim moonlight.
Kael sighed, gazing at the battlefield below where his lifeless body lay crumpled in the dirt.
His face was pale, his expression unreadable, but there was a heaviness in his eyes—a weight that spoke of regret, resignation, and something else, something harder to define.
"It's… kind of sad, honestly," he murmured, his voice faint and hollow, like the echo of a memory. He looked at his hands—or the blurry outlines that passed for them now.
The edges of his form wavered and rippled like smoke, as though he might dissipate at any moment.
It was a strange feeling, being untethered from the world, like he was both here and not here at the same time.
"So… what am I now? A ghost?" he mused aloud, his tone tinged with a bitter humor. He felt no real fear or despair, just a strange emptiness.
He wasn't sure if it was because he was dead or if he had simply accepted his fate. Maybe it was both.
Looking at the dim glow surrounding him, Kael frowned. "Did I really die? I mean… I still exist. This can't really be death, can it? I'm alive—just in a soul state or whatever."
His gaze drifted downward, noticing how parts of his body seemed to blur more with every passing second. "Guess that's why I'm fading… but maybe—"
A notification suddenly appeared before him, floating like an ethereal rune:
[Possessing a human body is impossible with your current strength.]
Kael blinked, momentarily stunned. "Oh…" He tilted his head, intrigued. "Is this some kind of ability? Like… my Awakened power? Huh, neat."
When no further explanation followed, Kael sighed. "Figures."
He floated there for a while, pondering his next move. The battlefield was no place for a spirit, and staying too long would only put him in danger. Still, the revelation about possession stuck in his mind.
"I can't possess a human… but that doesn't mean I can't possess something," Kael muttered, his ghostly form straightening.
For the first time since his death, a spark of excitement flared within him. He had been wandering aimlessly since his demise, drifting through the streets in his soul form.
It had been an unsettling experience—dangerous, even. Now, he had a goal.
Kael floated downward, slipping through cracks and crevices in the earth until he reached the sewers beneath the city.
The stench didn't bother him—he no longer had a nose, after all—but the eerie silence sent a chill through him.
The air was damp and heavy, the walls slick with moisture, and the only sounds were the faint scurrying of rats and the distant drip of water.
Rats scurried through the tunnels, their tiny claws scraping against the damp stone. Among them were larger, mutated creatures—grotesque amalgamations of flesh and bone warped by the Riftborn's influence.
Their eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, their movements jerky and unnatural.
Kael drifted closer, observing them carefully. The creatures varied in size, strength, and shape, but one thing tied them together: faint, invisible tentacles swirling around their bodies like ghostly strings.
"What are those?" Kael wondered aloud, his curiosity piqued.
Another rune appeared before him:
[Controlling these tentacles will make this creature your puppet.]
A grim smile spread across Kael's face. "Really? That's… convenient."
He floated toward one of the smaller rats, his translucent form hovering just above it. The creature froze, its beady eyes darting around as if sensing his presence.
Kael extended his hand—or the hazy approximation of one—and focused on the faint strings emanating from his palm. Carefully, he connected them to the rat's swirling tentacles, one by one.
The process was slow, each thread requiring precision and focus. Beads of something like sweat—if ghosts could sweat—would have dripped from Kael's brow if he still had a body.
The rat's movements became sluggish, its limbs twitching erratically. Kael pushed harder, concentrating on forcing his will into the creature.
Finally, the rat froze completely. For a moment, it was utterly still. Then, with a jerky motion, it took a single step forward.
Kael's grin widened. "I did it…"
The rat stumbled, its movements clumsy and unnatural. It was far from perfect, but it was progress.
As he practiced, Kael's confidence grew. He could feel the threads of power connecting him to the creature, like an extension of his own soul.
"This… this might actually work," he muttered, his determination hardening. He wasn't going to fade away into nothingness. Not yet.
Kael's gaze shifted to a larger, more grotesque rat—a hulking mutation with jagged teeth and glowing red eyes. It would be harder to control, but if he could manage it…
He smirked. "Let's see what you've got."
___