Darkness.
Silence reigned, deep and eternal, until a whisper stirred through the void like a breath caught between worlds.
A hundred thousand souls…
Then came light — not like fire or sun, but something deeper. Cold. Ethereal.
Shapes began to form. People.
Thousands upon thousands, blinking into existence inside a vast, surreal realm. The ground curved strangely beneath them — as if they were standing inside the belly of a world, not upon it. A giant floating orb hovered in the sky above, pulsing with light. Structures twisted in impossible geometry. The sky cracked in violet veins. This was no heaven. Nor was it hell.
Dragged here by fate… and my will.
In another place — far beyond what the people in the orb could see — sat the old woman.
She rocked gently in a chair inside a dim room, lit only by flickering candles. A strange, feline creature purred by her feet. In her hands, she held it — the glowing orb. The very heart of the realm.
"You are not heroes," she said quietly, her eyes gleaming with delight. "Just citizens."
—
Inside the orb, panic had already begun to grow. People clung to one another. Some cried. Others screamed. Groups were forming — fast. Alliances based on fear, instinct, or sheer luck.
"Seven days," the old woman's voice echoed in the sky. "That is all you have."
Above them, seven glowing monoliths slowly rose into the air like gods waking from slumber. They radiated with strange energy, each color different — crimson, silver, obsidian, emerald, violet, gold, and blue.
"Train. Betray. Manipulate."
Near the edge of the crowd, a girl sat alone.
Young. Fragile. Her knees were pulled to her chest, tears streaking down her cheeks. A soft glow surrounded her, though she didn't seem to notice.
Her name was Eira.
Bjorn saw her.
For a moment, through the noise and chaos, they locked eyes. He didn't know why he noticed her — or why it mattered. But something in her eyes felt… familiar.
Wounded.
"You…" she whispered, barely audible, "feel it too, don't you?"
Bjorn said nothing. But he didn't look away.
—
Far away, the old woman's smile twitched as she watched through the orb.
Her reflection in the glass warped. No longer human. Her face stretched unnaturally — fangs, multiple eyes, skin like cracked porcelain.
"Slay," she hissed. "Deceive. Survive."
Within the orb, chaos mounted. Fights broke out. Theft. Screams. The idea of order dissolved. Trust shattered. People fought over food that hadn't yet run out.
"Only one faction wins a wish," she said, brushing the cat gently as it stirred. "Only one walks away."
She rose from her chair, cradling the orb in both hands. Then, delicately, she placed it upon a velvet pillow, as if it were her most precious child.
She smiled — not wickedly, but softly. Lovingly.
"Fight like your soul depends on it…" she said.
Because it did.
Then, leaning close to the orb, her voice barely a whisper:
"Make it worth my time."