Solstice stood in the heart of a shattered world. The ground beneath his feet was scorched black, crumbling beneath his weight with every step. The sky above was a sickly red, swirling with dark clouds that seemed to pulse with some malevolent force. There were no stars here, no light except for the dim glow of cracks in the earth, as if the land itself was bleeding.
For a moment, he couldn't comprehend where he was. The world around him felt like a dream, an illusion woven from the darkest corners of his mind. But the sharp, burning scent in the air, the oppressive weight of the atmosphere, told him this was no dream.
This was real.
The wind carried the sound of distant cries, faint and haunting, as if the land itself wept for what had been lost. The echoes rang through the desolate landscape, growing louder with each passing second. Solstice's heart pounded in his chest, his breath shallow as the familiar feeling of fear clawed at him.
"Where am I?" he whispered to no one in particular, his voice barely audible over the whispers of the wind.
A sudden motion caught his eye.
A figure emerged from the shadows—a tall, imposing shape, wrapped in black armor. The person's face was obscured by a helmet, but the stance was unmistakable. This was someone who had fought and survived countless battles. Someone who carried the weight of their own history.
The figure moved with purpose, and Solstice felt an instinctive chill creep down his spine. It wasn't just the armor, or the presence of the figure—it was the unmistakable feeling that this person, this warrior, was someone he knew. Someone from his past.
"You," Solstice muttered, his voice rising in recognition. "It's you…"
The figure stopped in its tracks, as if it had heard his thoughts, though there was no movement. The air around them shimmered, and in the blink of an eye, the helmet was gone, revealing the face beneath.
Solstice's breath caught in his throat.
It was a woman—a familiar face. Her eyes, dark and empty, stared back at him as though they had known him for an eternity. Her features were strikingly beautiful, but her gaze was cold, distant. Like a memory that had been buried too deep to ever resurface.
Her lips curled into a grim smile.
"Solstice," she said, her voice like ice. "You've come at last. I've been waiting."
For a moment, Solstice's mind reeled, trying to piece together the fragments of memory that the woman's face had torn open. He knew her. He knew her. But the memories were locked away, as though someone had sealed them behind a door he couldn't open.
"You…" Solstice began again, struggling to find the words. "Who are you? What is this place?"
The woman's smile faltered, her expression turning sorrowful. "This is the Hollow Path, Solstice. A place for lost souls. A place for those who cannot move on. You may think you're here by accident, but you're not. You've been brought here for a reason."
Solstice felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "A reason?"
Her eyes softened, and for a brief moment, the coldness that had surrounded her seemed to fade. "You are being tested. Tested by your own past. Only by facing it will you be able to continue your journey."
Solstice clenched his fists. His past? The very idea of confronting it filled him with dread. He could feel the remnants of memories—forgotten, painful, and haunting—rising up from the depths of his mind. There were things about himself he had buried, things he wasn't ready to face.
"I don't want to do this," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "I don't want to remember."
The woman's expression darkened again, and she stepped forward, her voice low and firm. "You have no choice. The path you walk is the path of the self. Until you confront your own darkness, you will never find the truth you seek."
Solstice backed away, shaking his head. "I can't. I won't. I'm not ready."
The woman didn't relent. She took another step forward, closing the distance between them. Her presence was suffocating, but Solstice found that he couldn't move.
"You don't have to be ready," she said, her voice like a whisper in his ear. "You only have to face it. The truth is what will set you free, but it will also destroy you. That is the burden of this journey."
The ground beneath Solstice's feet trembled, and the sky above darkened, the air thick with tension. The whispering winds grew louder, and from the cracks in the earth, dark shapes began to emerge. They were like shadows, twisting and writhing, their eyes glowing with a malice that made his blood run cold.
"You're not alone, Solstice," the woman's voice echoed in his mind. "These are the parts of you that you've buried. The pieces of your soul that you refuse to accept."
"No," Solstice choked out, shaking his head violently. "I didn't… I didn't bury anything! I'm not…"
The shapes lunged at him, their forms becoming more defined with every passing second. They were grotesque, twisted versions of his own emotions—fear, guilt, shame, anger—all the things he had refused to confront.
The woman's voice reverberated in his mind again. "Face them, Solstice. Only by acknowledging these parts of yourself can you move forward."
His heart raced, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. His legs were frozen, unwilling to move, but he knew—deep down—there was no escaping this.
He had to face it. He had to face himself.
The shadows closed in on him, their twisted forms stretching toward him like tendrils, threatening to consume him whole.
With a scream, Solstice's hand shot out, his energy flaring in a desperate burst. He could feel the power inside him surging, tearing through the fear and uncertainty, but it was not enough. The shadows pressed closer, their cold fingers brushing against his skin, pulling him toward the darkness.
"Please…" he gasped, the weight of his own soul pressing down on him. "I don't know if I can do this."
The woman's face appeared before him again, her cold eyes staring into his soul. She was the reflection of everything he feared, everything he wished to forget.
"You can," she whispered. "You must."
And in that moment, the shadows surged forward, and Solstice was forced to confront what he had been running from his entire life.
The truth.