The corpse in his home, his mother's reckless driving, the pursuit of an unknown metahuman, and his mother's death. It was all just too much, and Mathew was ready to give up and rest. An eerie silence fell upon him and pressed against his ears, swallowing his every thought from then on the whole.
He felt a cold breeze around him, or was it within him? Well wherever it originated from, he couldn't tell the difference anymore and honestly he couldn't care less. Whatever it was, it seemed to seep into his soul, leaving behind a bitter and hollow ache.
The passage of time felt meaningless right now. Whether it stretched on endlessly or became stagnant was of no concern to him. For as long as he could, he just drifted with no sense of presence. All he could feel, or care to feel was the gnawing sense of absence of everything he was. Everything he had been and everything he would never be again.
What was the point anyway?
After what felt like an eternity, Mathew found the strength of will and opened his eyes. He looked from left to right then back again and raised a brow.
'What the hell?'
For a moment, he questioned whether he had opened his eyes or was just dreaming it, and his mind was playing cruel tricks on him. Because before him was an endless expanse of stark, blinding white.
Whether he looked up, down, left, or right, there was no horizon, no floor, no sky, absolutely nothing. Just an infinite and seamless canvas erasing all sense of direction or distance. For a human that had spent their whole life living with the existence of these concepts, their absence was quite jarring. As if the world itself had been stripped away, leaving only this blank, featureless void.
"Great, I'm either dead, hallucinating, or stuck in some pretentious modern art exhibit. Just perfect."
Was he... actually dead? He did have an encounter with a metahuman and the pain he felt was enough to tell him that he had suffered fatal injuries but he wasn't sure anymore. At this point, anything at all could be happening.
But if he wasn't dead or dying, what in the world was happening to the young cynic?
As if to answer the questions that raced through his mind, Mathew's thoughts were interrupted by a strange voice.
[Herald candidate. Welcome to the Hall of the Gods.]
Hall of the gods. The place where the codex is thought to reside and where Heralds come to to receive their trials By passing the first trials a herald is granted power beyond what they could imagine. The first step is graduating from a Herald candidate to a Herald and unlocking the ability to access said power at will.
Recognizing the voice to be the same one that echoed in his mind before he lost consciousness he was filled with disbelief.
'Wait, that wasn't a dream? Me? A Herald candidate?'
It was only natural he thought this was not possible, as Heralds were no ordinary people. Each one was a person who had passed their first trial and earned the right to possess unique abilities that set them apart from the rest of humanity.
These powers granted them the ability and right to traverse the forgotten lands, a desolate wasteland of a world long abandoned, forgotten, and fraught with danger. The heralds are tasked with hunting and destroying the terrifying corrupted beasts called voidborn that roamed its expanse. Creatures that were thought to be native beings of the forgotten lands, but were somehow corrupted by a murky and evil power known as void energy.
Guiding the Herald candidates to the forgotten lands for the first time was the job of the codex. These chosen individuals are tasked with venturing into the desolate and perilous Forgotten Lands but their true purpose was unknown as that much, the Codex did not reveal. Whether they were saviors to their world, conquerors of others, or even unwitting pawns in some unfathomable game, none could say.
Mathew was shocked as he never thought he as a poor bastard always on the verge of being thrown into the slums wouldn't ever be granted the rights to such power. For some reason, whether by design or just a cruel fate, it was a rare occurrence for those living in the lower echelons of society to be granted the opportunity to become Heralds.
And even if they somehow did, it was rare for them to survive, as those living in the higher echelons had been well-trained and prepared for what would come.
To be brutally honest, because people like him rarely had the opportunity to see these individuals, he didn't even believe the Heralds existed. Believing in the stories of unrealistic and fantastical powers like those seen in movies or comics wasn't exactly his style. At least not before today. After all, he had gotten enough proof of their existence firsthand to never again doubt.
Before being able to put his thoughts in order, the codex spoke once more.
[Herald candidate, prepare to face your first trial.]
The void around him began to twist and shift and Mathew staggered, feeling his mind shake.
"Wait! What am I supposed to do in this trial?!"
He wanted to know more, but the Codex was uncompromising in its task. Giving him nothing but a simple but at the same time vague instruction.
[Survive.]
With that single, chilling word, Mathew's vision blurred, and the white expanse faded away, giving way to darkness.
After an unknown but short amount of time, the young cynic could no longer feel the emptiness of the void all he felt was a cold and uneven surface pressed against his cheek.
Realizing he was no longer in that vast and empty expanse his eyes fluttered open and before his eyes were cobblestone bricks lined up neatly on the ground. Shaking off his grogginess as he pushed himself off the cobblestone floor and his surroundings slowly, but surely began coming into focus.
On the walls around him were large white gems that dimly illuminated the passageway he now found himself in and spaced a doze steps apart. Then as if struck by a wave, a heavy metallic scent stung his nostrils. The smell was all too familiar to him as a dweller of the fifty-eighth district.
He turned his head slowly, his eyes scanning the dimly illuminated and eerily quiet passageway. The lack of proper lighting it hard to focus, but his instincts told him exactly what he was looking at without him having to look any closer.
At his feet was a pile of corpses, and surrounding them was a pool of blood.
The only sound that broke the silence was his heartbeat pounding in his ears. With a low and quiet voice, Mathew looked round and asked himself in a bewildered tone.
"Where the hell am I?"