The Breath of the Night
The wind lashed against Ashen's face as he ran through the ruins. Every step was a struggle, every breath a reminder of his weakness.
But he couldn't stop. Not now.
Behind him, figures moved between the debris, fast as shadows. They were hunting him. They knew what he was.
But he knew nothing.
His mind was a storm of instincts and pain. The only thing he had was this strange force that had exploded out of him when he broke his chains. He could still feel it, alive, hungry, lurking beneath his skin like a predator ready to strike.
The terrain shifted suddenly. The jungle of ruins ended, revealing a massive chasm. Below, an enormous city stretched under a sky blacker than oblivion itself.
A whisper carried on the wind:
"Welcome to Vaal'Rin, the City of the Damned."
The Hunting Dogs
A howl split the silence.
Ashen barely had time to react—something lunged at him from the darkness. A twisted creature, half-human, half-beast, with glowing blue eyes. Its body was gaunt, covered in scars, its movements unnatural.
A slave of the first realm. A Hunting Dog.
The attack was brutal. Ashen rolled to the side, dodging its claws by a hair's breadth. His body moved before his mind—as if he had fought before.
But it wasn't enough.
More shadows emerged. Four. Five. More. They wouldn't let him escape.
His breath quickened. He could feel something rising within him. That power. That monster inside.
A laugh echoed from above.
"Oh… The Sky-Torn One finally awakens?"
Ashen froze.
He looked up. Atop a shattered arch stood a man, an amused smile on his lips.
Dressed in black, golden tattoos etched into his skin, and a perfect, unbroken Essence Mark glowing at his throat.
He knew who Ashen was.
And he had come for him.