The first thing he felt was the weight of nothingness.
A boundless, cold emptiness that stretched on forever. There was no sky, no ground, no life—only the hollow echo of his own existence. A sense of drowning, not in water, but in an infinite void. His consciousness flickered, as if caught between two realms, two worlds—one that had ended, and another that had yet to begin.
Am I dead?
The question lingered in the dark. His memories were fragmented, shattered like glass scattered by a force he could neither comprehend nor resist. Faces—old friends, old enemies—blurred in the fog of his mind. His own name slipped through his fingers like sand, lost to time.
Then, like a spark in the dark, a voice pierced the silence.
"Reincarnation Process Complete."
It wasn't a whisper. It wasn't a shout. It was simply there, present and undeniable, as though the void itself had spoken. The words hung in the air, settling over him like a blanket of inevitability.
"Welcome, Shadow Monarch."
The title struck him with the force of a thunderclap. His heart—or what remained of it—thundered in his chest. The void began to warp, twisting as though reacting to the words. A flood of sensations crashed through him: pain, rage, memories—so many memories. He saw himself, his past life. The man he once was.
A dark figure clad in black armor, wielding a blade that could cleave mountains. He was a conqueror, a ruler—feared, respected, hated. He had dominated worlds, crushed enemies beneath his heel, and amassed power beyond reckoning. But that power... it had cost him everything.
He had been betrayed.
The faces of those he trusted—the generals, the advisors, the ones who called him friend—flashed before his eyes. Their smiles, their false assurances. And then the betrayal, the brutal strike that ended his life, left him broken, bloodied, and cold on the stone floor.
"I died," he whispered, the truth settling like ice in his veins.
But then came the emptiness. And now, here he was. Somewhere. Somewhen.
The darkness receded, slowly pulling away like a receding tide. Gradually, a new world took shape around him. The void turned to hazy shapes, and from that fog emerged a new, alien landscape. He stood in the midst of a vast forest, the air thick with the scent of wet earth and the whisper of distant winds. Trees towered above him, their roots winding deep into the earth. But there was something... wrong about it all. A strangeness that tugged at the edges of his mind.
His limbs, though familiar, felt like they didn't belong to him. Weak. Fragile. He tried to move, but his body resisted, as if it was not his own. The memories of his past life swirled in his mind like a storm, but the connection felt distant, fleeting. He had been mighty. A god, even. But now, he was... nothing.
A low hum vibrated through the air, a quiet, persistent noise that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. And then, a sudden surge of warmth.
"Shadow Monarch, awakening," the voice again, this time from deep within him. A strange, mechanical voice. His heart—no, his essence—stirred in response.
"System Activation Complete."
The words resonated with a pulse of power, an unfamiliar energy coursing through him. A system? What kind of system was this?
A holographic interface flickered to life before his eyes. Floating in the air, glowing symbols appeared—strange, cryptic text that meant nothing to him. At first, he felt no connection to it, but then...
"Status: Incomplete."
"Initial Quest: Survive."
"Objective: Restore Power."
The words blinked and shifted, as though they were trying to convey a message. He could feel the force behind them, a sensation that both intrigued and terrified him. This was not the world he had left. This was something... new. A new chance.
"I was given another life," he muttered, clenching his fists, the strange energy surging through him. "Another chance to rise."
And rise he would.
His first instinct was to move. To test the limits of his new form. He staggered forward, his legs trembling with weakness. He wasn't sure where to go, or what to do, but the drive to reclaim his power burned in his chest. The forest around him seemed endless, but he knew that somewhere out there, there would be answers. Power.
A rustle in the bushes caught his attention. Reflexes honed over countless battles kicked in, and he spun around, ready to strike. But it wasn't a monster, or an enemy. It was a person.
A girl. No more than fifteen, with long, wild hair and eyes that gleamed with a dangerous curiosity. She was armed, but not with a sword or spear. Instead, she held a staff, one that crackled with faint magical energy.
"Who are you?" The words were wary but not unfriendly.
He didn't answer immediately. He studied her, wondering if she was a threat or an ally. His instincts told him to trust no one—but something about her presence stirred an unfamiliar feeling. Was she a part of this new world? Or was she just another piece of this strange puzzle?
"I... am the Shadow Monarch," he said finally, his voice colder than he intended.
The girl raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "That's a bold claim."
Before he could respond, a sudden, monstrous roar shattered the air. The ground trembled beneath their feet, and the trees nearby shook violently. From the dark depths of the forest, something huge and vicious lumbered toward them—its red eyes glowing with hunger.
Without a word, the girl raised her staff. A bright, white light erupted from its tip, slamming into the creature's chest with the force of a thunderstrike. The beast recoiled, stunned, but not defeated.
"Do you fight, or do you hide?" she asked, her voice sharp.
He didn't need any further encouragement. His body moved on instinct, his hand outstretched, a surge of dark energy pulsing from his fingertips. The Shadow Monarch was reborn.
The battle had begun.