The World of Binding
Chapter 1: The Fragments of Memory**
When Jin Yue opened his eyes, the only thing he remembered was his name—and the sound of a thousand screams.
The cold stone beneath him pressed against his back like shards of ice, jolting him awake. His hand reflexively reached out, grasping at nothing but air. The world around him was dim, a suffocating gray haze that shifted like a restless ocean. Shadows danced along the jagged walls of what seemed to be a cavern, though the ceiling stretched so high it vanished into darkness.
Jin Yue's chest heaved as he sat upright, his breaths ragged. He touched his temple, his fingers brushing against a faint scar he didn't recognize. His thoughts were disjointed, fragmented like shards of a broken mirror. Faces, voices, and images swirled in his mind—none clear, none comforting.
*"Who... was I?"* he muttered, his voice hoarse and unfamiliar even to himself.
In the distance, faint whispers echoed, indistinct but growing louder. They weren't just whispers; they were voices, countless and overlapping, crying out in anguish, rage, and despair. Jin Yue staggered to his feet, his legs trembling beneath him. The sound wasn't external—it was in his head, clawing at his mind like a swarm of angry insects.
*Remember.*
The word resounded within him, a single command woven into the chaos. He clutched his chest as warmth spread through him, accompanied by a flicker of light. From his palm, a glowing sigil emerged—a circle etched with intricate runes, pulsing faintly with golden energy. It hovered just above his skin, radiating a sense of familiarity.
*"A Binding Mark…"* The words left his lips before he realized he even knew them.
The Binding Mark was a fragment of his past, a trace of the power tied to his very existence. It wasn't just a mark—it was the essence of who he was. Each rune symbolized a memory, each line a story. But as Jin Yue stared at it, the mark flickered weakly, its light dimming.
The whispers grew louder, sharper, and more distinct. He turned, his instincts screaming danger. From the shadows of the cavern, figures emerged—twisted, humanoid shapes with hollow eyes and jagged claws. They moved with unnatural speed, their bodies shrouded in black mist.
*Void Wraiths.*
The name surfaced in his mind, along with a chilling certainty: they were drawn to broken memories, feeding on fragments of identity.
Jin Yue stumbled backward as the first wraith lunged at him, its claws aimed at his chest. His body moved on instinct, his palm thrusting forward. The Binding Mark flared to life, a burst of golden light erupting from his hand. The wraith screeched as the light tore through it, scattering its mist-like form into nothingness.
But more were coming. Dozens of them.
His breaths quickened as he realized the mark's light was already fading. Each use drained it further, and without his memories to fuel it, his strength was limited.
*"I need to remember…"*
Desperation clawed at him as he focused inward, forcing himself to recall anything, even a single moment. Flashes of a distant life returned: a vast library filled with glowing tomes, a figure cloaked in crimson, and a voice—soft yet commanding.
*"Power lies in pain, and memory is the deepest wound."*
The phrase struck him like a blade. Pain surged through his chest as the mark reignited, brighter this time. The wraiths hesitated, their hollow eyes fixed on the glowing sigil. Jin Yue didn't hesitate. With a roar, he charged forward, light spilling from his hands like molten gold. Each strike dissolved a wraith, the cavern filling with their anguished screams.
By the time the last wraith fell, Jin Yue was on his knees, the mark on his palm flickering weakly. His vision blurred, exhaustion threatening to pull him under. But amidst the haze, he noticed something.
At the center of the cavern, where the wraiths had gathered, lay a single crystalline fragment. It pulsed faintly with a soft blue light, drawing him toward it. As he crawled forward and grasped it, a surge of energy coursed through him.
And then, the memory came.
A battlefield, bodies strewn across the ground. He stood at its center, a towering figure clad in obsidian armor, his blade dripping with blood. Around him, the fallen whispered his name in fear: **Jin Yue, the Memory Warden.**
The vision shattered, leaving him gasping for air. The crystal fragment dissolved in his hand, its energy merging with his mark. The golden sigil brightened, its runes shifting and expanding.
He clenched his fist, the weight of the memory settling in his chest. He wasn't just anyone. He was a Memory Warden, a guardian of the Binding Realm. And someone—or something—had torn his memories apart and left him to die.
But now, he had a fragment of himself back. And with it, a purpose.
*"Whoever did this to me…"* Jin Yue stood, his eyes burning with determination. *"I'll make them remember me."*
The whispers faded, replaced by a heavy silence. The Binding Mark on his palm glowed steadily, its warmth a reminder of what he had lost—and what he would reclaim.