The wind howled through the ancient ruins, carrying whispers of a forgotten past. The sky, once a brilliant canvas of stars, now bled into an endless void. A single figure stood amidst the desolation, his silhouette framed by the eerie glow of shattered moonlight.

Vaelion never believed in fate. He had spent his life defying the expectations placed upon him, clawing his way through hardship with sheer determination. Yet, in this moment, as the Shadow Veil loomed over him, swallowing all light and warmth, he realized—some destinies could not be escaped.

The air was thick with the scent of burnt stone and something far more sinister—something ancient, lurking just beyond sight. Vaelion's heart pounded against his ribs, but his expression remained eerily calm. He had come here seeking answers. Instead, he had found a nightmare.

A low, guttural voice slithered through the air.

"You have come far, child of light… but you stand at the edge of the abyss. Do you have the will to step forward?"

The presence was overwhelming, pressing down on him like a mountain of shadow. Yet, Vaelion did not flinch.

"I did not come here to kneel," he said coldly. "I came to claim my own path."

A sinister chuckle resonated through the void.

"Then let us see if you are worthy."

The darkness surged forward.

Agony.

A pain beyond mortal comprehension tore through Vaelion's body as the Shadow Veil enveloped him. His bones cracked, his veins burned, and his very soul felt as if it were being torn apart and reshaped. He wanted to scream, but his voice was lost in the maelstrom of black tendrils twisting around him.

Memories—his past, his identity—flashed before his eyes. The face he had known in the mirror, the warmth of human touch, the remnants of his former self—shattered like fragile glass.

And then, silence.

When the darkness receded, Vaelion fell to his knees. He gasped for breath, his body trembling. The air around him felt different. He lifted a hand, his fingers now marked with intricate black patterns pulsing with an eerie glow.

His once-dark hair had turned a ghostly white, and when he opened his eyes, they gleamed with an unnatural green light.

The transformation was complete.

Vaelion Shadowborne had been born.

He rose slowly, his body feeling both foreign and powerful. The presence that had once loomed over him had faded, leaving only an echo in his mind. He was no longer the boy who had entered these ruins. He had been reforged—no longer bound by the limitations of his former self.

A single thought echoed in his mind, a truth as cold and unyielding as the void itself:

"I am no longer a pawn of fate. I will forge my own path—even if I must burn the world to do so."

As the first steps of his new existence echoed through the ruins, the Shadow Veil trembled. The world had changed forever.