The void between life and death was cold, silent, and absolute. Kyle Baiden floated in the abyss, his mind a whirlpool of pain and betrayal. The echo of his last moments played on an endless loop: Maxwell's smirk as he pulled the trigger, the taste of blood in Kyle's mouth, and the unbearable realization that his closest friend had orchestrated his downfall. Thirty-three years of struggle and sacrifice had come to an abrupt, tragic end.

Then, there was nothing.

But death, it seemed, was not the end.

A voice, ancient and resonant, cut through the darkness, pulling Kyle from the abyss. *"You have been wronged, Kyle Baiden. Your journey is not yet complete."*

Kyle's consciousness stirred, and he became aware of his surroundings—or lack thereof. He was no longer suspended in nothingness but standing on a vast, black expanse. The sky above him was an infinite canvas of stars, more brilliant and numerous than any night he had ever seen. In the distance, five towering figures emerged from the shadows, their forms both ethereal and imposing, radiating an aura of unfathomable power.

The Orishas.

Ogun, the god of iron and war, with his skin like polished steel and eyes that burned with the heat of a forge. Eshu, the trickster and guardian of the crossroads, with a smile that hinted at secrets untold and destinies yet to be forged. Orunmila, the wise seer, draped in robes of shifting sands, his gaze piercing through time itself. Oshun, the goddess of love and fertility, whose beauty was as overwhelming as the sunlight she embodied. And finally, Shango, the god of thunder and lightning, a storm incarnate, his presence a force of nature.

Kyle fell to his knees, overwhelmed by their majesty. *"Why... why am I here?"* he stammered, his voice a mere whisper in the vastness.

Ogun stepped forward, his voice deep and commanding. *"Your fate was stolen from you, Kyle Baiden. We have watched you, seen your struggle, your determination, and your potential. The world you knew has been consumed by greed, betrayal, and darkness. But there is another path—a path that will give you the power to rewrite your destiny and that of your people."*

Kyle's mind raced. *Power? Destiny?* He had heard these words before, in the empty promises of politicians and the hollow speeches of businessmen. But this felt different—real.

Oshun's voice was soft yet filled with undeniable authority. *"We offer you the Ancestral Path, a gift of power and knowledge, rooted in the strength of our people and the forgotten spirits of this land. You will return to the world of the living, but not as you were. You will be reborn, with the opportunity to change everything."*

Kyle's heart pounded. *"Reborn? But... when? How?"*

Eshu chuckled, the sound echoing like distant thunder. *"Time is but a thread in the fabric of existence. You will return to a point where your choices truly begin—a point where the right actions will set you on the path to greatness or lead you once more to ruin."*

Shango raised his hand, and a bolt of lightning crackled across the sky, illuminating the vast expanse. *"With this power comes responsibility, Kyle Baiden. The path ahead will be filled with challenges, enemies, and temptations. But if you succeed, you will become more than a man—more than even we, the Orishas. You will transcend mortal limits, and your name will be spoken with reverence for generations."*

Orunmila stepped forward, placing a hand on Kyle's shoulder. The touch sent a surge of energy through him, igniting his very soul. *"Do you accept this path, Kyle? Do you accept the burden of power, the weight of destiny?"*

Kyle looked up at the Orishas, their faces impassive yet expectant. The fire of vengeance, of ambition, of unyielding will, burned bright within him. His life had been stolen, his dreams shattered, but now, he had a chance—no, *the* chance—to reclaim everything and more.

*"Yes,"* he whispered, his voice growing stronger with each word. *"I accept."*

The Orishas nodded in unison, and the sky above them began to pulse with energy. A beam of pure light descended from the heavens, enveloping Kyle in its brilliance. His body felt as if it were being torn apart and rebuilt, every cell infused with the power of the ancients.

As the light intensified, the voices of the Orishas echoed around him, a final warning, and a promise.

*"Rise, Kyle Baiden, and claim your destiny."*

And with that, everything went white.