A sharp, metallic scent filled the air. Rain pelted the cracked pavement, pooling around his trembling hands. He gasped for breath, his body stiff and aching, his mind clouded in confusion. The dim glow of a flickering streetlamp barely illuminated the alleyway where he lay, sprawled out like discarded trash.
He didn't know his name. He didn't know how he got here. But what unsettled him most was the burning sensation crawling up his arms.
His sleeves were shredded, revealing intricate symbols carved into his skin—dark, shifting markings that pulsed as if alive. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he traced them with his fingers, the lines shifting under his touch like ink in water. The moment his fingertips brushed against the cold brick wall beside him, reality twisted.
The air grew thick, the streetlamp's light stretched and bent, shadows wavered unnaturally. A whisper—no, a thousand whispers—slithered through his mind in a language he did not understand. His breath caught in his throat as figures flickered in and out of existence around him. Cloaked in black, their faces hidden, their eyes glowing like embers in the night.
"Welcome to the Hollow Veil," a voice rasped behind him.
He spun around, heart pounding, to find a man standing at the mouth of the alley. Dressed in obsidian robes embroidered with symbols eerily similar to the ones on his skin, the stranger radiated an unsettling presence.
"You were never meant to see this." The man's voice was calm, almost pitying.
The whispers grew louder. The shadows coiled like living things, and suddenly, pain seared through his chest. He staggered back, clutching his ribs, his vision swimming. The markings on his arms flared, burning white-hot.
"You need to run." The robed figure stepped forward, gaze unreadable. "They are coming."
A deep, guttural growl echoed through the alleyway. The shadows moved. And then—
The world exploded into chaos.