In a peaceful night, the sky was moonless, enveloped in darkness. Violet, blue, and red lights in one orb enveloped the sky, casting an eerie glow over the city. The streets bustled with activity despite the late hour, and ancient-looking buildings lined the roads. Among them stood a three-story structure, its third-floor windows darkened while the rest of the rooms glimmered with light. Inside that unlit room, messy atmosphere can be seen, papers scattered everywhere, furniture in disarray. This was the room of Azazil, a university student.
On the floor lay a young man, his lifeless body surrounded by a pool of blood. Suddenly, consciousness surged through the still form.
'Did I survive the accident? Am I in a hospital? Have I already died?'
'Why can't I open my eyes? What is happening?'
'F**, the pain's unbearable. What kind of pain is this?'
The young man groaned, forcing his eyes open. His vision swam, the room around him a hazy blur. As clarity returned, he saw the blood pooling beneath him and his body covered in cuts. Panic surged through him as he struggled to stand, staggering to a nearby mirror. But just as he reached it, his gaze fell upon the window. His breath caught in his throat. Outside, a massive, glowing orb hovered in the sky, its light illuminating an ancient city with steam-powered factories and towering spires. The sight sent him collapsing to the floor.
'What the hell is going on?' he thought, heart pounding. 'Where am I?'
Memories flooded his mind—his name was Malik, a man from the 20th century. He had died saving a child from an oncoming truck. Yet, here he was, alive in a strange world. With great effort, he dragged himself to the mirror. The reflection staring back at him was not his own. It was an average-looking young man he didn't recognize.
'Who the hell is this? Am I in someone else's body?'
Suddenly, the room darkened for a moment, an oppressive silence falling over him. When the light returned, everything seemed normal again. The blood, the cuts—all were gone, as though they had never existed. Malik stood frozen, his mind racing.
'This is insane. Nothing makes sense.'
As Malik grappled with the memories of his new identity—Azazil, a 20-year-old university student studying strange relics, a shadowy figure appeared at the window. Its face was a grotesque, terrifying mask of black smoke. Malik stumbled back in horror as the creature reached for the glass. Before it could break through, a glowing white hand emerged from the void, pulling the shadow back into the darkness.
Malik stood trembling, trying to comprehend what he had just witnessed. The memories of Azazil's life continued to flood his mind. Azazil had lived a quiet life, supported by his older brother, Ahsak, who worked as a factory manager. Their home was in Frostveil City, within the Luthal Kingdom. Azazil had recently acquired a relic, a strange pen that seemed incapable of writing from the market. But the events leading to the messy room, the blood, and the cuts remained a blank in his mind.
Desperate for answers, Malik searched for the relic but found nothing. Moments later, the door burst open, and a man rushed in. It was Ahsak, his brother.
"Azazil! Are you okay? People said they heard strange noises coming from upstairs," Ahsak said, his eyes filled with worry. "What happened here? Your room's a mess!"
Malik hesitated, unsure how to respond. "I… I don't know. I just woke up and found it like this."
Ahsak's concerned gaze scanned the room, but he said nothing about the blood or the cuts. They were gone, after all, leaving only the messy belongings.
'What the hell is happening to me?' Malik thought, his mind reeling. 'And what is this world I've found myself in?'