Slowly I opened my eyes. A dark, bluish light flooded my pupils, forcing them to twitch painfully, as if the darkness itself was burning through my gaze. But the pain passed, and I could see. My hand was on a cold black armrest.

When I raised my eyes, I realized that this armrest belonged to a throne. A shock went through me. The dimension around me was enormous, the space seemed endless. A blanket of darkness stretched over me, disappeared into nothingness. The bluish light, faint and unreal, seemed to come from a source beyond the imaginable. Cold, empty, but omnipresent.

The ground below me was dark, smooth as polished obsidian. But not only that: he reflected everything, distorted, as if the reality here were different. Dark veins crisscrossed the surface, while purple energy flickered in some places, distorting the twilight for a moment before it went out again.

The black walls around me seemed alive. Cracks ran through it, from which the same violet energy flowed as if it were tearing apart the structure of the room. They flickered, twitched as if they were in constant motion.

The room opened up in front of me. A huge, curved staircase of black obsidian led down, its steps covered by a dark, almost blood-red carpet. He seemed alive, as if he were breathing, sucking himself into the ground with every movement, as if he wanted to devour himself.

The staircase ended at a platform that separated the throne from the rest of the hall. But my attention was focused on the huge statues that flanked them. They stood with their backs to me, their presence causing me to shiver. Larger-than-life, clad in heavy armor, they exuded an unwavering guardian presence. Their faces remained hidden behind demonic masks.

I couldn't see what they were holding in their hands, but I felt that they were more than mere decoration. They were part of the energy that permeated this place. Their presence was so strong that it felt like they were watching me.

Only now did I notice my clothes. A dark shirt, simple and without decoration, stretched over my upper body. The black pants adapted to my movements, sturdy leather shoes and a black belt completed the functional outfit. I stroked my brown hair that fell into my forehead, while an oppressive thought pushed itself into my head:

Who am I? Why am I here?

The pressure of the questions turned into a stabbing pain. I involuntarily rubbed my forehead. But it wasn't just the pain – it was the realization that I didn't know anything. Nothing about myself. Nothing about this place. I took a deep breath, trying to find clarity. But something here felt wrong, even if I couldn't tell what it was.

I couldn't just sit here and stare. I had to act. Slowly, I put one foot in front of the other and began to descend the stairs. The carpet beneath my steps pulsed as if it were sinking into the ground. I walked on, past the huge statues.

Curious, I turned around to look at her from the front. Their black stone figures wore armour, their helmets equipped with horns. But her arms were not human. Claws protruded from her hands, while small thorns grew from her shoulders.

Had I ever looked like this?

A fleeting thought flashed through me. I was a human being. That was the only certainty I had left. But a sense of alienation settled in me, as if I were seeing the world through a veil of uncertainty. The statues seemed to scrutinize me as if they knew more about me than I did. In their hands they held candles whose violet light flickered and parchments with strange signs.

The sight of her was overwhelming.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up in a ghostly purple, and her gaze pierced me like a dagger. A cold shiver chased down my spine, I stumbled, struggled for support and almost fell.

When I looked again trembling – nothing. Her eyes were extinguished as if nothing had ever happened.

My breath caught in my throat. Had I just imagined it? Or had something been looking at me in the dark?

When I saw the huge black gate at the end of the throne room, a cold knot tightened in my chest. It was no ordinary goal. It towered like a monolith, ancient, invincible—as if it had not been created to be opened. Its surface was smooth, but interspersed with fine, jet-black cracks, from which pulsed a faint violet glow, like the last twitch of a dying star.

I came closer. Every step became heavier, as if the air itself was pressing against me, trying to hold me back. The silence here was not empty – it was alert. A dull rumble vibrated in the distance, deep and ancient, as if something that should never have awakened was taking its first breath.

Then the goal moved.

Not jerky. Not with the dull reverberation of a mechanism. But slowly, silently – as if it were noticing me. As if it were inviting me. A crack opened, and from the darkness behind it seeped bluish light, pale and strange, like an echo from another world. But it wasn't just light that poured out of the opening. Something else was there. Something invisible. I couldn't see it, I couldn't touch it – but it felt me.

My heart pounded against my ribs. A tremor ran through my fingers. I didn't want to go any further. I didn't want to know what awaited me behind it. But the goal left me no choice.

The darkness beyond the threshold did not move, and yet it seemed to come nearer, arching towards me as if welcoming me. Or devour.

I swallowed hard. "I should go on..." I murmured, but my voice sounded hollow, swallowed by the darkness.

Then I took the first step over the threshold – and the darkness took me in.