My eyes open.
The world around me is only debris.
My hand brushes something. I stare.
A ring—a black ring—rests there.
It glows, but darker.
Metals rise from it, wrapping me.
Armor forms—dark, heavy, alive.
A cape floats behind me.
A bastard sword materializes in my hand; a shield locks into place.
My visor hides my face. Only my eyes shine red.
I feel it—my Ora. It hums, hesitant yet hopeful.
"I am Zeo Sol," I whisper.
Movement catches my eye.
The ground shivers.
I step forward, forcing control.
It obeys.
A horse emerges.
Dark as shadow. Armor like mine.
Red eyes pierce the void.
Each breath presses against the air.
Every step bends the ground beneath its hooves.
Ancient. Loyal. Powerful.
I reach out. Touch its head.
Connection sparks, strong and undeniable.
I mount.
The ride begins.