The name Arthmeya dripped like venom in my ears. I raised my gaze to the sky I had not seen in what felt like centuries, but it no longer belonged to me.
What once might have been a kingdom of light now lay as a corpse—its beauty stripped, its glory buried. A wasteland wearing the crown of a forgotten god.
I turned to Itarim. "Where are we?"
His voice carved through my mind like rusted steel. "This is Arthmeya… over a thousand years ago."
The weight of his words sank into me like chains. Yet irritation clawed at my skull. "Can you not speak without piercing through my thoughts?"
Itarim sighed, his shadow twisting into the form of a small demon perched upon my shoulder. Its wings beat with a sickly rhythm, its grin carved with malice. "Do not fear They can see you. They cannot see me. They cannot hear you when you answer me. To their eyes, you are silent, your steps heavy, your presence dreadful. Only you and I share these words, walking within the graveyard of my memory. What you behold is truth, and truth alone".
Truth. A word that bled like poison.
The streets of Arthmeya stretched before me—silent, hollow, breathing only decay. People's eyes found mine, wide with terror, as though they gazed upon death incarnate. Their fear clung to me like a second skin.
Itarim looked upon them with indifference, which festered in me as rage, but I chained the fury deep inside.
I came before a castle, though it was nothing but an empty husk. I turned to leave—yet something pulled at me. A presence, thick and suffocating. My veins burned, my mind shrieked a single command:
KILL.
I tore open the doors.
Rena sat in the gloom, speaking to a man cloaked in white through a machine of shifting light. My body surged forward, hands straining for her throat—but they passed through her flesh like smoke.
"What is this mockery?" I growled.
"For your survival," Itarim answered, his tone cold. "She cannot see you. Were she to notice your presence, this memory would become your tomb."
Still, my rage boiled. Though unseen, Itarim warned that my aura, steeped in bloodlust, pressed upon her soul. I swallowed the fury, though it poisoned me.
I strained to hear her words, but the voices blurred—until Itarim drove their meaning into my skull like nails.
RENA:"Sir, this land is far more wretched than the records foretold."
MAN:"Then it must be saved. By any means. You will conduct the experiments. Find the one who can preserve this world."
RENA:"Yes, Sir. I will obey."
MAN:"All of Arthmeya now rests in your hands."
The vision trembled and fractured. Rena stalked the room like a beast, searching for meaning, but the memory crumbled into darkness.
I staggered, hollow. "What is happening?"
Itarim's form flickered, his voice sharpened. "This drains me. I require more."
"More of what?"
His eyes glowed like pits of fire. "A fragment of your soul."
The words pierced me deeper than any blade. Yet I extended my right arm. His delight was monstrous.
Outside, Luna's sobs echoed like bells of mourning. Only minutes had passed in the waking world. Time was slipping through my grasp.
As Itarim's claws reached for my flesh, I stopped him. "Not like this." My voice was iron. "Heal me. Cloak me. Keep me in slumber if you must. You need a vessel, and you know this—if I die, you die with me."
Itarim's grin twisted. "Clever mortal. But beware the shackles of bargains. They always tighten."
"I know."
Then his teeth sank into my soul. Agony ripped through me, my body flayed apart from within. Black markings burned into my hand, veins glowing like molten iron. My scream split the silence of the dead kingdom—until it collapsed into ash.
When it was done, power lingered where flesh once was. My right hand pulsed like a weapon born of torment.
I rose. "Continue."
The world shifted, folding upon itself. A new scene emerged—a laboratory dripping with steel and sorrow.
"One year later," Itarim whispered, his voice both pride and curse. "Rena gathered her disciples. She promised them salvation, but beneath her words lay chains of horror."
Rows of pods stood before me, each one holding a prisoner in unnatural slumber. My steps carried me to one marked Experiment 007.
Inside, a boy. His face… a mirror of Itarim.
My voice trembled. "Is that you… Itarim?"
Silence. Heavy, suffocating, eternal.