The cliff disappeared beneath Xander's feet as the world around him began to dissolve into a swirling mass of darkness and light. He felt himself being pulled, dragged through the very fabric of reality, his body weightless yet surging with power. The sensation was overwhelming, like falling endlessly while his mind burned with fragments of memories—some his own, others foreign.
When his feet finally touched solid ground, Xander opened his eyes.
He stood in the center of a desolate plain, surrounded by towering obsidian mountains that loomed against a blood-red sky. The air was thick with the scent of ash, and the ground beneath him was scorched black. A strange silence blanketed the land, broken only by the occasional howl of the wind.
He didn't know how he got here, but he knew one thing for certain—this wasn't Earth.
The Keeper's words echoed in his mind: "This world… is waiting for you."
Xander clenched his fists, and a faint surge of energy rippled through his veins. It felt foreign, yet intoxicating, like a fire just waiting to ignite. He had no idea what this power was or how to control it, but he could feel it—raw, untamed, and limitless.
If this is real… he thought, then I'm not the same person anymore.
"Welcome to the Shadowlands, mortal."
The voice was deep, guttural, and filled with malice. Xander spun around, his senses heightened, and saw a figure stepping out from the shadows.
It was a hulking beast, its body covered in black scales that shimmered like obsidian. Its eyes burned with a crimson glow, and jagged horns curved backward from its skull. A demon.
Xander's breath caught in his throat. The creature stood twice his height, radiating a suffocating aura of power and death.
The demon sneered, baring sharp, yellowed teeth. "Another weakling sent to the Shadowlands to perish. You'll make a fine meal."
Xander's heart pounded, but he forced himself to stay calm. The old Xander might have panicked, might have run, but this was different. He wasn't the same anymore.
"Do you always talk this much, or are you just stalling because you're afraid?" Xander said, his voice steady.
The demon froze, then let out a guttural laugh. "Afraid? Of you? You don't even know where you are, little mortal, let alone what you've been thrown into. This is the domain of beasts and devils. You're nothing but prey here."
Xander didn't respond. Instead, he took a step forward, his instincts screaming at him to act, to move, to fight. The energy inside him stirred, coiling like a serpent waiting to strike.
The demon snarled, clearly irritated by his silence. "Fine. I'll rip that arrogance from your bones."
It lunged, moving with surprising speed for its size. Its claws glinted in the red light, aimed directly at Xander's throat.
But in that moment, something clicked inside him.
Time seemed to slow as the energy within him surged, flooding his body with strength and clarity. His hand shot up instinctively, and as the demon's claws came down, a pulse of dark energy erupted from his palm.
BOOM!
The force of the explosion sent the demon flying backward, its massive body crashing into the ground with a thunderous roar. Xander stared at his hand, stunned. Dark tendrils of shadow still danced around his fingers, fading slowly.
The demon groaned, struggling to rise. Its eyes were wide with disbelief. "W-what… What are you?"
Xander didn't answer. He didn't know the answer himself. But in that moment, he felt something he hadn't felt in years—not fear, not confusion, but control.
He stepped forward, his movements steady and deliberate. "You said this was the domain of beasts and devils," he said, his voice cold. "Then it looks like I'm in the right place."
The demon growled, forcing itself to its feet. "You think you're strong? You think you can survive here? You know nothing of this world, nothing of its horrors!"
Xander raised his hand again, and this time, the shadows answered his call. They writhed and twisted, forming a blade of pure darkness in his grasp. He could feel its weight, its power.
"Then let me show you," Xander said, his lips curling into a smirk.
The demon roared, charging at him once more, but Xander was ready. He sidestepped the attack with ease, the blade in his hand slashing upward in a blur of motion.
A sickening crunch echoed through the air as the demon's head flew from its shoulders, its body collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud.
Xander stood over the corpse, his chest heaving. The blade in his hand dissolved into smoke, and the shadows around him faded.
For a moment, the silence returned, broken only by the faint crackle of energy lingering in the air.
I killed it, Xander thought. Not just by chance. I killed it because I'm stronger now. Because I have power.
But before he could dwell on the implications, a low growl rumbled from the distance. Then another. And another.
Xander turned, his eyes narrowing as shapes began to emerge from the darkness. More creatures—smaller than the demon, but no less menacing. Their eyes glowed like embers, and their snarls filled the air with a sense of foreboding.
"Looks like I've got company," Xander muttered.
He clenched his fists, feeling the energy within him respond once more. It was time to fight. To survive. To prove that he wasn't just some pawn thrown into this world.
He was Xander Blackthorn. And this was just the beginning.