"You do not understand the weight of your own existence," the figure said, its voice neither male nor female, but something in between, something ancient. "You fight, you struggle, but do you truly know why?"
Jude's fingers curled into fists. "Because I have to."
The figure tilted its head slightly, as if considering his answer. Then, it raised a hand. The mist swirled violently, and the air grew heavy. A pulse of energy surged outward, and suddenly, Jude wasn't standing in the forest anymore.
He was somewhere else.
The battlefield stretched before him, bodies littering the ground, the stench of blood thick in the air. The sky above was dark, storm clouds rolling overhead, flashes of lightning illuminating the chaos below. He knew this place. He had seen it before, in his visions, in his nightmares. This was the future he had been trying to prevent.
A figure stood in the distance, their back turned to him. Jude's breath caught in his throat.
It was him.
