Morvane's spirit hovered above the lifeless form of his body, the weight of death pressing upon him. His once vibrant eyes, now vacant and unseeing, stared up at the night sky. His heart—the one that had beaten for justice, for his friends, for a better world—was still. The world around him seemed distant, as if he were trapped in an endless void.
I'm dead… Morvane thought, his ethereal form unable to grasp the finality of the situation. I couldn't save anyone. I failed.
As he drifted, disoriented, a dark figure materialized in the distance. It was a presence he knew all too well, though he had never truly understood it.
"You forgot about me, didn't you?" The voice was low, almost mocking, filled with an ancient hunger.
Morvane blinked, his ghostly form recognizing the sinister energy emanating from the figure. Drevon, the demon who promised to guide him, now stood before him with a twisted grin.
