The jungle air pressed heavily around Kaelen, thick with damp earth and the faint scent of something ancient. Before him, the ruin stood silent, its worn stone walls whispering secrets only time could hear. The strange blue markings pulsed like a heartbeat, their glow barely piercing the darkness.
That voice. That whisper. Uran.
The word clung to his mind, stirring something deep within him. He didn't know why, but the ruins felt… familiar. As if they had been waiting for him.
His fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the stone. A chill ran through his body, his skin prickling with an unseen energy. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, then stepped forward.
The entrance was an archway, nearly swallowed by thick vines. The stone beneath his feet was cold, untouched by time. As he walked deeper, the pulsing glow of the markings flickered, responding to his presence. The air inside was different—heavy, charged with something unseen.
A whisper brushed against his ears.
Kaelen spun around, heart hammering, but there was nothing. Only shadows stretching along the walls.
Then the whisper came again.
Not from the jungle. Not from a voice he could name. It was inside his mind.
"You have come at last…"
Kaelen's breath caught. His pulse thundered in his ears.
"Who's there?" he called, his voice barely above a whisper.
Silence.
Then, the glow of the markings flared. The stone walls trembled, dust trickling from unseen cracks. A deep vibration rumbled beneath his feet, shaking the very ground.
A sudden gust of wind rushed through the chamber, though there were no openings, no airways. It carried whispers—dozens of them, weaving together like threads of an unseen tapestry. He couldn't make out the words, but he felt them—felt them settle into his bones, wrapping around his very being.
Then, the light changed.
The blue glow of the markings shifted, darkening into a deep violet. Shapes twisted along the walls, moving like living shadows. Kaelen took a step back, but the ground beneath him felt unsteady, as if the entire ruin had detached from reality.
He blinked.
And the world was no longer the same.
Kaelen stood in a vast, endless void.
The jungle, the ruins, the stone walls—everything had vanished. Around him, darkness stretched in all directions, infinite and consuming. Yet he was not alone.
Figures loomed in the shadows, their forms shifting and undefined. Tall, cloaked in robes that shimmered like liquid night. Their eyes—dozens of them—glowed in the abyss, silver and piercing.
A deep voice, neither male nor female, echoed through the void.
"You are the one they tried to erase."
Kaelen's mouth went dry. He couldn't move. Couldn't speak.
The figures circled him, watching, waiting.
"Blood of the lost. Bearer of the storm. The world does not yet know what you are."
Kaelen's chest tightened. The words held weight, meaning beyond what he could grasp.
"What do you mean?" His voice came out hoarse. "Who are you?"
The figures did not answer. Instead, the void around him rippled, and suddenly—
Kaelen gasped, stumbling backward.
He was back in the ruin. The jungle air pressed around him once more, thick and humid. His heart pounded against his ribs.
The markings on the walls had stopped glowing. The whispers had faded. But the presence—the knowledge—still lingered inside him.
Something had changed.
He didn't know what the vision meant. He didn't know who those figures were.
But he knew one thing.
He was no longer just a boy lost in the jungle.
The world had been waiting for him.
And now, it had found him.