The first sensation that hit me was pain—sharp, searing, and sudden. It tore through my body, raw and unrelenting. It felt as though my very soul was being ripped from its place, leaving behind nothing but a cold void. My eyes opened, but there was nothing to see. No flicker of light, no movement—only an oppressive, suffocating darkness that threatened to swallow me whole.

I gasped, struggling for breath, but no air came. Panic surged within me as I tried to move, to feel something—anything—but my limbs refused to obey. There was only the pain. The unbearable, crushing pain. And the heavy, unbearable silence.

Is this.....death?

I forced my mind to focus, the weight of my thoughts barely manageable amidst the overwhelming sensation of emptiness. I had died. I remembered that much clearly. The betrayal, the knives in my back, the cold, pitiless faces of those I had once called allies. The Crown of Shadows. I had accepted it, hadn't I? In my final moments, I had sworn vengeance, sworn to rise again.

But where am I?

I strained my mind, but nothing made sense. The darkness, the emptiness, the weight pressing down on me—it was all too much. I could not remember how long I had been trapped in this place. It felt like an eternity, and yet, there was no time here. No measure of moments. Just a vast, eternal nothing.

Then, slowly, as though from the depths of the void itself, a voice whispered—quiet, insistent, but unmistakably familiar.

"You have awakened"

I froze. The voice—it was not my own. Nor was it the voice of those traitors who had ended my life. It was a deep, resonant voice, ancient and powerful, one that felt as though it echoed across the very fabric of existence itself. A presence. Not of flesh and bone, but of something far older. Far darker.

"Who... are you?" I rasped, the words barely escaping my lips.

The voice responded, as though it had been waiting for this question, waiting for me to acknowledge it.

"I am the crown of shadows. Your patron, your guide, your power."

The words reverberated in my mind, filling the emptiness like a storm, and I felt the cold pressure around me shift. It was as if the void itself had parted, if only for a moment, allowing something—something real—to take its place.

"You swore vengeance " the voice continued, its tone unwavering. "You sought to rise again. To reclaim what was taken from you. Do you still hold to that vow?"

"Of course," I snarled. The words slipped from me as easily as they had before my death, as though they were part of my very essence. "I will have my revenge. I will take back what was stolen from me. I will not rest until every one of them pays."

The darkness shifted once more, and a wave of energy coursed through me—violent, hot, and sharp, like the touch of fire itself. It burned through my veins, forcing me to gasp for air. I could feel it, pulsing beneath my skin, a new power surging into my body. The cold emptiness was gone, replaced by a presence. A power. My power. The power of the Crown of Shadows.

And yet, as the energy coursed through me, there was a gnawing, hollow feeling—a gnawing sensation in my chest, like something was missing. I could feel the weight of the curse, the price of this power. The Crown had promised me vengeance, but at what cost?

"Your soul is mine" the voice intoned, a cold reminder. "But your vengeance will be sweet."

I clenched my fists, feeling the strength within me, a strength that had not been there before. I could feel it rising, a primal force that pushed aside the remnants of weakness. The pain that had once held me captive, the agony of betrayal, it all seemed so far away now. I could almost taste it. The power, the fury—it was all within my grasp.

But as I took a breath, another sensation hit me. The realization crashed into my mind like a tidal wave. I could feel the ground beneath me. It was rough and cold, not the polished stone of my throne room, nor the grand halls of my castle. I could feel the weight of something heavy and coarse pressing against my body, the sensation of being bound.

Where am I now?

I thought again. This wasn't the void. This was... earth.

The heavy darkness around me began to recede, and I felt the presence of something else. Something new. I could hear the distant murmur of voices, muffled at first but growing louder with each passing moment. The clink of chains, the creak of wood, the smell of dirt and sweat. And then—light. Flickering light, like a distant fire. I blinked, my vision slowly adjusting to the dim surroundings.

I was lying on something hard. A floor, perhaps, or some kind of surface. I felt the weight of chains on my wrists, the cold metal biting into my skin. The world around me seemed strange—unnatural, like a twisted reflection of something I had once known.

I tried to move, but my limbs felt heavy, sluggish. It was as though the very act of motion required more strength than I had. But with a grunt of effort, I managed to sit up, the chains rattling as I did so. My eyes scanned the dim room, and I saw it.

Slaves.

There were several of them, shackled and hunched over, their bodies thin and gaunt, their faces hollow and drained of life. Some were sitting on the floor, others leaning against the walls, their eyes dull with despair. A few of them looked up at me, startled by my movement, but none of them spoke. It was as if they had all given up. As if hope had died long ago.

I looked down at my own body. The robe I wore was tattered, faded, a far cry from the regal garments I had worn in my past life. My hands—these were not the hands of a king. They were calloused, rough, marked by the labor of someone who had worked to the bone.

I looked up, taking in the surroundings more fully. It was a small, grimy cell, the walls made of stone and wood, with a single barred window high above. Through it, I could see nothing but darkness—the sky was obscured, and there was no sign of life beyond the confines of this grim place. The air was thick with the stench of sweat, dirt, and fear.

Where am I? The question echoed again, louder now, as though the answer was just beyond reach.

"You are where I placed you " the voice of the Crown of Shadows answered. "A new life, a new beginning. This is your chance to grow, to regain what you lost."

I ground my teeth together. I had been reborn. In the body of a slave. A nobody. No. This was not the plan. This was not what I had sworn to.

"Your power is dormant now" the voice continued, seemingly amused by my anger. "Your are weak. But it will change. Patience my king. Patience."

I narrowed my eyes, feeling the fire of my past self—the king—stir inside me. Patience. The voice expected me to be patient.

I was no fool. My path to vengeance would not be delayed. I would claw my way out of this. From nothing, I would rise again.

With a violent effort, I pulled myself to my feet, the chains rattling loudly in the oppressive silence. The other slaves watched me, their eyes wide with something between fear and hope, though none dared to speak.

I would not remain here. Not for long.

"Your first task is clear" the Crown's voice echoed inside my mind, "But the path to power is not easy "

I met the eyes of the slaves around me, and the fire of defiance burned in my chest. This was not the end. This was the beginning.

The Crown had promised me vengeance, and I would make it a reality. Nothing—no chain, no weakness, no body—would stand in my way.