Lyra stepped out of the ruined facility, her feet touching a ground layered with dust and ash. The air was thick and heavy, pressing against her lungs with each breath. She looked around, her eyes taking in the skeletal remains of what was once a city—her city.
It felt surreal. Familiar streets were twisted and broken, buildings crumbled to the foundations, and the sky above was an endless, oppressive gray, swirling with clouds that looked stained by some dark energy. There was no movement, no sounds except the wind whistling through broken structures.
For a moment, she just stood there, overwhelmed. In her memories, this place had been alive with lights, laughter, the hum of traffic. Now, it felt more like a graveyard, abandoned and lost to time.
She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She had to find answers. Azaroth had hinted that she was "special," that he had waited a century just for her. But why? What made her so important? And what had happened to everyone else?
With a deep breath, she chose a path leading down what had once been Main Street, walking past shattered windows and storefronts with signs she half-remembered. The silence weighed heavily on her, each step echoing in the desolation.
As she walked, a faint noise caught her attention—a faint, almost metallic clinking. She froze, straining her ears to catch it again. There it was, distant but unmistakable.
Turning toward the sound, she followed it, her pulse quickening. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, though there was no one in sight. Still, the noise grew louder, drawing her closer until she rounded a corner and found herself at the entrance to what looked like an old subway station.
The entrance was barely recognizable; rubble and overgrown vines choked the stairwell, but the faint sound was coming from below. With a moment's hesitation, Lyra descended, moving carefully through the darkness. Shadows danced on the walls, and the air grew colder as she moved deeper underground.
The clinking grew louder, and soon she saw the faintest glow at the end of the tunnel. She crept forward, her eyes adjusting to the darkness, until she saw a figure hunched over in the shadows, working over something with intense focus.
It was a person—a girl, slightly older than her, with tangled hair and clothes patched with bits of leather and metal. She was repairing something mechanical, her hands moving quickly and skillfully. The girl hadn't noticed Lyra yet, so Lyra took a cautious step closer, clearing her throat.
The girl's head snapped up, her eyes flashing with both fear and defiance. She held up a jagged piece of metal like a weapon, her expression hardened. "Who are you?"
Lyra raised her hands in a peaceful gesture. "I'm… I'm Lyra. I just woke up. I… I don't even know what's happened."
The girl narrowed her eyes, as if trying to gauge whether Lyra was telling the truth. After a long pause, she relaxed slightly, though she didn't lower her makeshift weapon.
"You're a sleeper?" the girl asked, her voice wary but tinged with curiosity.
Lyra nodded slowly. "I think so. I… I went to sleep a hundred years ago. When I woke up, everything was… like this."
The girl tilted her head, studying Lyra with a mix of suspicion and pity. "You don't know, then. About the fall. About Azaroth."
Lyra shook her head, feeling a shiver run down her spine. "No. All I know is that he's… he's the one who did this, isn't he?"
The girl let out a bitter laugh. "Azaroth didn't just destroy the world. He rules it now. Those who survived… well, they either serve him or hide in the shadows."
The weight of the girl's words hung heavily in the air. Lyra tried to process it, but it was almost too much. The world she'd known, the life she'd left behind—it was all gone, replaced by a nightmare. And somehow, Azaroth was at the center of it all.
"What's your name?" Lyra asked softly, her voice shaky.
"Rhea," the girl replied, finally lowering her piece of metal. "And if you're really a sleeper, then you're lucky to have missed most of the horrors of the last century."
"Why am I awake now?" Lyra whispered, more to herself than to Rhea.
"Because he let you," Rhea said with a note of bitterness. "Azaroth controls everything. No one wakes or sleeps without his say-so. If you're here, it's because he wants you here."
Lyra's stomach churned. She'd thought waking up was a miracle, a stroke of luck in a twisted world. But now, the thought that Azaroth had allowed her to awaken filled her with dread. She clenched her fists, trying to calm the swirling storm of emotions inside her.
"But why?" she asked, her voice trembling. "What does he want with me?"
Rhea's gaze softened, and for the first time, Lyra saw a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. "I don't know. But I know that people like you—sleepers—have a certain… potential. Something in you might be valuable to him. Or dangerous."
Lyra swallowed, her mind racing. Dangerous? She'd never considered herself powerful or special in any way. She was just a girl who'd fallen asleep, only to awaken in a world she didn't recognize.
Rhea turned, glancing back toward the dark tunnel. "If you're going to survive here, you'll need to stick with someone who knows the lay of the land. There's more to this world than just ruins."
Lyra hesitated, then nodded. "Where are we going?"
"There's a place where survivors gather," Rhea explained. "It's hidden, safe from Azaroth's gaze… mostly. But if you're a sleeper, they'll want to meet you."
As they walked, Rhea began to explain what little she knew about Azaroth's reign. After he rose to power, he had warped the land itself, turning cities into wastelands, forests into tangled webs of darkness. The survivors who remained were scattered, hiding in pockets of resistance, always aware that Azaroth and his followers hunted them mercilessly.
"There's a rumor," Rhea said as they made their way through the tunnels, "that sleepers carry a piece of the old world within them. A power that's been buried or forgotten. It's why Azaroth hunts your kind."
Lyra felt a chill. A piece of the old world. She didn't feel powerful or special, just… lost. But the thought that something inside her could be valuable—valuable enough to threaten a demon—was unsettling.
After what felt like hours, they reached a hidden entrance tucked away in the rubble. Rhea tapped a rhythm on a broken piece of metal, and slowly, the wall shifted, revealing a dimly lit passage leading to an underground hideout. Lyra followed, her heart pounding as she realized she was stepping into a new chapter of her life, one filled with uncertainty, danger, and perhaps… hope.
As they descended into the hideout, Lyra couldn't shake the feeling that something big was about to unfold. She might not understand her place in this world yet, but one thing was clear: if Azaroth wanted her, she'd have to find out why—and find a way to stop him before he destroyed whatever was left.