Luther woke up disoriented, surrounded by an infinite, dark void. There was no ground, no sky, just an absolute absence of light and sound. Slowly, he stood up, reaching out around him as if trying to find something tangible, but there was nothing. "Where am I?" he murmured, his voice echoing in deep, lonely reverberations. He shouted, but his words bounced off the darkness, met only with silence.
Time passed, though Luther couldn't tell how much. Hours, days, or maybe minutes. The nothingness enveloped him, and his mind began to splinter under the pressure of isolation. Desperate, he clutched his head with his hands and screamed again. Just as despair was about to consume him completely, something changed.
In the distance, a faint light appeared, breaking the darkness with a dim glow. Luther squinted, focusing on the source of the glimmer. "What is that...?" he whispered to himself. Without hesitation, he began running toward it. The light grew in intensity with each step he took, taking on a deep purple hue that pulsed as if alive.
Finally, he reached the origin of the light: a floating orb, radiating a disturbing energy. Thick, purple liquid dripped from its surface, disappearing into the void as soon as it touched the ground, as if it had never existed. Luther stood in awe, staring at the object with a mixture of fascination and fear.
Unable to resist his curiosity, he extended a trembling hand toward the orb. As soon as he touched it, a torrent of images flooded his mind, forcing him to his knees. Memories of his life flashed before his eyes at an overwhelming speed: his childhood, his training, his battles. Every significant moment played out with excruciating clarity.
The memories reached the present and then began showing things Luther didn't recognize. He saw a war, an inhuman massacre. Mountains of corpses covered the landscape, and a man drenched in blood stood atop them. With brutal, precise movements, the man continued killing without pause, leaving behind a trail of death and destruction.
"What... what is this?" Luther whispered, horrified. The scene froze, capturing the moment the blood-soaked man calmly began cleaning himself. Luther couldn't comprehend what he was witnessing, but a chill ran down his spine as the man turned slightly and spoke in a voice that echoed deeply in his mind.
"So, you've arrived, have you? A little late, Luther."
Luther was paralyzed, his heart pounding violently in his chest. "Who are you? What does this mean?" he shouted, dreading the answer.
The man finished turning, and Luther felt as if the air had been sucked from his lungs. It was him. The man committing the massacre was a version of himself, but different. His eyes glowed an intense purple, and black markings covered his face, giving him a demonic appearance.
The man smiled, a twisted, cynical grin, and said, "Who am I? Come on, Luther, you know who I am. I'm you."
Luther stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing and hearing. "No! That's not possible! I would never do something like that... I'm not a monster..."
The figure took a step toward him, leaning slightly forward while maintaining that unnerving smile. "Aren't you? Then explain why I'm here. If I'm not you, how is it that you know this slaughter belongs to you? It's too late to deny it, Luther. This darkness you fear so much... it's always been a part of you."
Before Luther could respond, he felt as though the ground beneath him crumbled away. The figure and the orb vanished, and everything went dark again. He fell, feeling the void consume him entirely.
Luther woke up with a start, breathing heavily. His heart felt like it was about to explode. His eyes darted around, searching desperately for something familiar as his senses struggled to orient themselves. Slowly, he realized he was in a hospital bed.
He looked at his hands, trembling, searching for the black marks, but there was nothing. He touched his face and chest, ensuring everything was in place. "Was it a dream...?" he asked himself, still feeling the echo of that voice in his mind.
The door to the room opened slowly, and a nurse entered, her expression turning to one of surprise upon seeing Luther awake. Her eyes widened, but before she could say anything, Luther attempted to speak.
"Wh... What happened?" he asked, his voice raspy and weak.
The nurse, seemingly too shocked to respond, took a few steps back, muttering something incomprehensible. Without another word, she quickly left the room, closing the door behind her. The sound of the latch echoed in the room, leaving him alone once more.
Luther tried to move, but a sudden sharp pain in his head stopped him. He pressed his hands against his temples, gritting his teeth as dizziness overtook him. The lights in the room seemed to flicker around him, and a high-pitched ringing filled his ears. Then, a familiar voice, barely a whisper, resonated in his mind.
"Luther..."
The whisper was unmistakable. The voice was deep, cold, and carried an intensity he knew all too well. It was Twilight.
"Twilight, is that you? Are you there?" he asked, his tone filled with desperation and hope. He looked around frantically, as if expecting to see something in the empty room.
There was no response. Only an oppressive silence. Luther called out again and again, but with each unanswered plea, his frustration and disappointment grew, leaving an even greater void inside him. Eventually, he lowered his head, defeated.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and someone entered with quick, determined steps. Luther looked up just in time to see Princess Selene, her silver-toned dress shimmering under the room's dim light. Her eyes, filled with concern, met his as she shut the door behind her with urgency.
Selene observed him for a moment, as if assessing his condition, then let out a deep sigh of relief.
"Finally, you're awake... I thought we might lose you," she said, her voice soft but trembling slightly with worry.
Luther tried to respond, but his head still pounded intensely. Selene noticed his discomfort and quickly approached, placing a firm yet gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Don't push yourself, Luther. You've just woken up; you still need to rest." Her words were comforting, but there was a shadow in her gaze, as if she were hiding something.
Luther, still reeling from confusion and pain, looked at her intently and managed to stammer:
"What happened...? Where am I...? What are you doing here...?"
Selene hesitated for a moment, her expression shifting to a mix of relief and seriousness.
"You're in the infirmary. You were found in the forest... unconscious, surrounded by destruction. We still don't know exactly what happened, but..." She paused, as if struggling to admit the truth. "...it looked as though a dark force had passed through there."
Her words echoed in his mind, and immediately, the image of his blackened hands and the purple orb resurfaced. His chest tightened, and an indescribable fear gripped him.
"And Elise?" he asked, ignoring the rest. His voice was pleading, almost broken.
Selene lowered her gaze, as if reluctant to answer. "She's safe," she finally said, without elaborating. Then she looked directly into his eyes. "But Luther... we need to talk."