The sky was silent. Too silent.

Ashen Valdris opened his eyes to a world he did not recognize.

His body ached. His skin burned as if something had been torn from him. He tried to move, but chains—no, roots—held him in place. Twisted vines, black as the void, coiled around his wrists and ankles, pulsating as if alive.

Where… was he?

A ruined temple loomed above him, broken pillars reaching toward a cracked sky. Faint, eerie blue light bathed the stone floor. In the distance, shadows moved—figures watching him from the darkness.

Who were they? More importantly… who was he?

His breath hitched. His mind was a shattered puzzle, memories slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. Nothing. He remembered nothing.

Except for the pain. And the mark on his chest.

Slowly, he lowered his gaze.

A symbol glowed just above his heart—a Mark of Essence—but it was broken, fractured, incomplete. Unlike the smooth, circular seals he had seen on the figures in the distance, his was jagged, as if someone had tried to rip it apart.

A whisper brushed against his ear.

"He shouldn't be awake."

"Kill him before he remembers."

Instinct roared through Ashen's veins. Move. Now.

The vines cracked. Power surged in his core, raw and untamed. He didn't know what he was doing—he just willed the chains to break.

And they did.

A force, dark and unseen, ripped through the temple. The ground trembled. The watchers in the shadows gasped and stumbled backward, fear flashing in their eyes.

They knew him.

They feared him.

And that was all the reason he needed to escape.

Ashen darted into the darkness, heart pounding, mind racing. He didn't know who he was… but one thing was certain.

Someone up there wanted him gone.

And he intended to find out why.