Lundis woke up floating in space. There was no light, not even a place—only the darkness that could drive a person insane.
He looked around, as if searching for something he had lost, trying to grasp it with his eyes, but he couldn't find it.
"Where am I? What is this darkness surrounding me from every side?"
He spoke with a trembling voice, trying to adapt to the situation.
"Strange… Am I dreaming, or is this reality? Also, I don't remember anything."
Lundis's appearance was strange, as if he had been transported from one place to another—more terrifying and bizarre. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, but he felt pain.
He realized this place was not a creation of his imagination. He turned his head sharply, hoping to find something, even if it was a monster, but he clutched his neck in pain with both hands.
"Pain… no… it's like fire is burning near my neck. The strange thing is I feel like it's bleeding something, yet I can't feel it."
Between shock and unease… a faint voice emerged from nowhere, like an echo:
"Welcome, you who are lost from the light, fleeing from your fate, you who have lost faith."
Lundis was shocked by the majestic voice he heard. He wanted to speak, but he shut his mouth, his eyes widening as he looked toward the space that was cracking apart.
An upside-down statue appeared, crucified, with eyes bleeding… it opened them with such force that the place shook with its grandeur.
Lundis could only stare at this great formation, struggling to release words to describe what he saw.
"…"
The mysterious being spoke with a broken voice, as if slaughtering logic itself:
"There is no need to burden your mind with thought. You are in the presence of the first place from which the strong were born."
And in the same tone, it continued:
"Everyone has the right, and you are one of them… the right to revenge, and to trample upon the heads of their enemies."
"So, son of the noble emperor, will you walk the path of corpses—the righteous path—or will you return your sword to its sheath, which is the falsehood?"
Lundis stared, trying to comprehend the words of this mysterious being… but the best choice was:
"…"
Silence.
The being spoke again, knocking as if unearthing the truth:
"It is natural not to find an answer to such a great question. But during your journey, you will know what I meant."
It continued, while the statue opened its ominous eyes, radiating a powerful light that forced Vaitheless to shut his own:
"We will meet again, two-faced one."
At that moment, everything was destroyed—as if logic itself collapsed—and a red glowing mark appeared: Error…
———————
From nothingness, his body burned, his head severed…
"Painful…"
"What is this pain? Why is my neck… burning?"
Lundis couldn't open his eyes. The air around him was thick, still, as if the world itself had stopped moving. His fingers trembled as they touched something wet, sharp… severed.
His head.
His head was detached from his body.
He gasped hard, but his voice came out muffled, as if his throat was full of ashes. Yet he could feel everything—his limbs, his chest, even the heartbeat echoing through the void.
He tried to open his eyes—futilely. It was as if his eyelids had been stitched shut with burning needles.
With trembling hands, he reached for his neck. The place of separation burned with terrifying heat… then he felt something moving inside. Black threads, smooth as hair, emerged from his neck, beginning to stitch his head back to his body.
His body was hurled backward by an invisible force, and a black collar formed around his neck. Upon it was an inverted cross, pulsing faintly red.
He gasped once more… and opened his eyes.
The ceiling of the room was covered with strange carvings, symbols he didn't understand. Beside him, a vase hung on the wall like a tilted clock. A window allowed moonlight to seep in.
He rose slowly from the bed, clutching his neck in pain. Looking around, he saw crumbling walls covered with messy drawings. The bed was wooden and primitive, topped with a torn, faded cloth.
"Where am I?"
"Why am I not in my room?"
Then… memories struck him.
They weren't words, but images and motion.
Blood. Screams. Fire. A ruined palace.
His father… stabbed by a cursed black sword.
His mother's face… severed from her body as she smiled, while the kings laughed.
His brother… dragged into the abyss. And then, the mysterious voice and the statue in the broken void.
He clutched his head. Pain pierced his skull like a needle driven into bone.
"I remembered…"
"The imperial palace was attacked. The kings—the traitorous servants—slaughtered my father and mother. They cut off my mother's head while laughing…"
He paused a moment, then smirked coldly:
"My father? I don't care about him. But my mother…"
"I'll kill them. All of them."
"But among the things I couldn't understand… was that voice and the statue real, or just a hallucination?"
His breath was heavy. Blood silently dripped from his eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at a broken mirror hanging on the wall.
His reflection appeared:
Black hair down to his shoulders, streaked faintly with white strands, dark brown eyes, cold features carved as if from ice. He raised his hand to the collar around his neck… then stopped.
"No. No one should see these threads."
"So, was the pain I felt in the void because of this wound? But how?"
He took a sip of water and wiped his face, trying to focus.
"The statue… that was truly terrifying. I felt an immense suffocation in my chest when I saw it. Thank God it ended."
He continued, pulling his hair back with both hands:
"But the thing I understood from its words… was revenge. As if it was the one who gave me the chance to pursue it."
A cold smile stretched across Lundis's lips as he touched the collar:
"It seems it was the one who resurrected me from death, to carry out this mission again… it looks like another chance."
He took a step back.
And before he could sit back on the bed, someone opened the door slowly.
A tall man entered. His blond hair reached his neck, his eyes green, and a light beard adorned his face.
He spoke in a warm yet strange tone:
"Oh… a true miracle."
"To fall from the mountain of emperors with a severed head and survive? It seems something great dwells within you, boy."
Lundis stretched his hand toward a sword placed beside him. He gripped it tightly and spoke in a sharp voice:
"Who are you? And what do you want from me?"
The stranger smiled, unaffected:
"And this is how you greet the one who saved your life?"
Lundis fell silent, then repeated in a sharper tone:
"I said… who are you?"
The man walked over to a bookshelf, leaned against it, and said:
"My name is Isaak Luenza. Just a ruler of a small village belonging to the Kingdom of Lucia. But like many others, I hate this filthy system that feeds itself on wars and blood."
Then he looked closely at Lundis:
"And also, I was gathering herbs outside the village when I saw you fall from the mountain. Your head was still breathing, so I brought you here. And… from your features, it's certain you are the son of the Fifth Emperor."
Lundis replied with a cold voice:
"I don't deny my blood, but I hate it…"
Isaak closed his eyes for a moment, then said calmly:
"I'm only searching for someone who can help me put an end to this abhorrent rule. And it seems you… carry hatred for your bloodline and for the kings as well. Do you wish to join me?"
Lundis did not answer. He looked at the mirror again, then stood, holding the sword in his hand. He spoke with an indifferent expression:
"I'm sorry, Master Isaak, but I refuse your request…"
Lundis put on a red coat, open in the front. And before he could move forward, Isaak placed his hand on his shoulder.
"Do you intend to face the kings in this condition?"
"That's none of your concern."
Lundis swung his sword, intending to stab Isaak, but Isaak stopped the attack with two fingers. The blade turned to ashes, a smile rising on his face.
Lundis's hand froze, the cold creeping into his fingers.
'He broke it… with two fingers?'
Isaak spoke quietly, without raising his voice:
"With this strength, you'll be killed in the first battle."
Lundis stepped back, then said:
"Why do you want me to join you?"
Isaak answered with a smile:
"Because you are the missing piece I need for the puzzle to be complete… Toppling the kings requires a miracle, and that miracle is you."
Then he continued, pointing his finger toward the number six:
"Train here for six months. After that, we begin. I'll send a group with you to carry out plans to dismantle the kingdom's infrastructure. And after that… comes the time for the kings."
Lundis thought for a moment, then said:
"I don't like fighting with groups. I prefer to work alone."
Isaak laughed:
"Stubborn… If you insist on working alone, so be it. But I won't let you die. I have people watching. They intervene when needed. I call them: Vowless."
"Vowless? Who are they? And how will you know I'm in danger?"
Isaak smiled mysteriously:
"My disciples… And I have deep knowledge when it comes to sensing if someone is in peril…"
Then he turned his back, gripping the hilt, his eyes glowing red:
"Sleep now. Tomorrow… you will meet them."