A water droplet, a descendant of the sap of the dead Tree of Life, plummeted down the precipice. The abyss below was a rich tapestry of darkness filled with fog. It traversed downward, mile after mile, with no end in sight.
At last, it struck a hidden placid lake, sending ripples across its surface. A creature stirred—a person preserved—timelessly flawless. Disturbed by the sudden drop of water, the drop of consciousness—he opened his eyes.
Awakened beneath the surface, the lake shallow yet heavy, a faint glow beckoned: the only thing to see. Disoriented, his primal instinct urged him to resurface. His chest tightened as his breath slipped away.
He sat up abruptly, gasping for air and his vision blurred. Then, he saw it—them white orbs floating and swirling like teasing faeries of the dark, the source of that eerie glow. It felt cold and pulsating, as if they had a life of their own, defying explanation. Dropping his hands to the soft lakebed, he heard the waters ripple.
He squinted his eyes, leaning forward in curiosity. His vision cleared, and he realized they were fireflies—tiny creatures emitting an otherworldly light.
With his unquenched curiosity, he looked around and saw there was no light. No moon, no stars, just…darkness. Just then, a thunderous crash of flashing lighting shook him and a familiar sense of danger encroached upon his system. He was terrified, his vision distorted, and a gripping pain buzzed in his head like a swarm of insects, threatening to overwhelm him. Instinctively, he knew this wasn't the first time it had happened. He fought with all his might against the pain that clawed at his consciousness.
Again, he plunged into the water fighting for his life. The lake swallowed him whole, thick and suffocating. He couldn't care less about the rusty taste flooding his mouth or the burning sensation in his lungs. He stood up only to fall again, disturbing the waters around, scaring the fireflies away. In pain in the dark, alone was he fighting for dear life.
Moments passed as he struggled through the water, enduring the agonizing drill in his head while clutching hard, his nails embedding to his scalp and blood seeping out.
Finally, he let out a primal scream that pierced the silence. "AARRRGGHH!"
With all his strength, the nauseating pain began to subside, leaving behind a sharp stinging. For a heartbeat, the world fell…still.
A fragmented memory resurged in his mind, sharp as a blade slicing through the fog of his consciousness.
He saw hands clawing skyward in desperation from a mountain of corpses. Faces pale and turned upward, mouths gawking, eyes lifeless yet filled in anguish. He stood above them drearily with a heavy heart.
Then the memory shifted—a tear in the lowery gray clouds ahead, a jagged void where the heavens seemed to have been broken with an infestation of monsters, twisting and writhing within. It was bone-chilling and his skin scrawled in tremors.
"What should I do? Tell me, León?! What went… wrong?" He murmured into nothingness… There was no one to listen to his mournings and regret, no one to console and give him courage. Bravery of the heart and valor of the courageous… felt empty with no one to protect.
'But at least… they will survive.'
'For the Eikhelons'
His hand stretched forward to that abyss, and a blinding light erupted from his palm engulfing everything, swallowing even the memory itself.
And then it was gone. Darkness returned. The cold, unyielding. Panting heavily, the vision still lingers.
"What…?" Was all he could say, his voice barely a whisper, the question fading in his lips. He was even more confused, 'Who's León? What's Eikhelon?'.
The memory was filled with sorrow and an overwhelming sense of loss, as if he had lost something sacred that he could never reclaim. Each tear that fell felt like a piece of his soul slipping away, a haunting reminder of a life once lived but now irretrievable. He could feel the weight of countless burdens pressing down on him—guilt for not having saved those lost, anguish for the pain that still echoed in his heart, and a desperate yearning to understand the meaning of the fragments that haunted him. He clenched his fists and held his forearm above his eyes. His face contorted in misery as he began to wail and cry.
Moments had passed since he was half submerged in water, he knew he had to move forward and escape this godforsaken place. Biting his lower lip, a name surfaced within his clouded mind, he was Soleil Nocturne, a creature who should have died in that apocalyptic world, slumbered and has awakened in this state of turmoil. However, it wasn't enough. The name was but a shell of who he was.
Weakened, his mind began to scatter. He crawled on all fours toward the shore, his limbs trembling with each movement, perplexed as to why it was so dark, with only the bioluminescent critters and exotic plants casting a tender, phantom light around him.
He could barely see anything ahead, but when a flicker of lightning illuminated the looming dark heavens, he caught a glimpse of a ruined stronghold or temple. He stared blankly for several seconds, marveling at the grandeur of the crumbling edifice, its once-majestic architecture now shrouded in shadows.
Steadily, he rose to his feet, each movement slow and deliberate, as if an unseen force drew him toward it. Water dripped from his long, dark hair, pooling around his feet, and his drenched, torn robes clung to his skin, amplifying the chill in the air that sent shivers down his spine.
As he threaded through the shallow, murky waters, the cold ground bit into his bare feet. He ignored the discomfort and pressed on, stepping into the temple's darkness.
An unsettling silence enveloped the space, punctuated only by the scent of moss and stagnant water. His footsteps echoed in the stillness, the dripping of water filling the hall.
He scanned the shadows, aided by the intermittent flashes of lightning that illuminated the crevices and crumbling walls. A thunderous boom followed. He froze, catching sight of a monster crawling along the ceiling.
A thought crossed his mind: 'What was that?'
He turned toward the creature, senses heightened, his heart racing. A strange and ancient voice bellowed through the damaged halls, carried by gusts of wind that threatened to cast him out. "The living are not permitted here. Be gone!"
Then, as the lightning flashed again, he saw the monster clearly—he took a step back. It was a dwarf with long limbs wearing a carved wooden mask and it lounged at him before his body could react.