The city lights blurred as Elior stumbled through the rain-soaked alley, his breath ragged, blood oozing from the wound in his side.
He had run for blocks, but the footsteps behind him never wavered—always just close enough to remind him that he wasn't escaping, only delaying the inevitable.
He pressed a shaking hand against the wall, his palm slipping on wet brick.
His heart pounded in his ears louder than the storm above.
"She set me up," he muttered, voice barely more than a whisper.
Alina. The girl he loved, the one who'd kissed him that morning and promised forever.
She had smiled—so sweet, so warm—then handed him over to strangers in dark suits like he was nothing.
Their leader had looked at him without emotion and said only one thing:
"You weren't supposed to know."
Now here he was. Bleeding. Alone.
A shadow stepped into the mouth of the alley.
Elior turned slowly.
The man was tall, draped in a black coat that shimmered in the rain.
A silver mask hid his face, its expression frozen in an eternal grin.
"Why?" Elior asked, his voice hollow.
The man said nothing. Instead, he raised his arm.
A gun, sleek and unfamiliar, hummed with blue energy.
Elior laughed—a broken, bitter sound.
"At least tell me who you are."
The man tilted his head.
"You'll find out… eventually."
A flash of blue.
Then—nothing.
Darkness swallowed Elior like a curtain being drawn across the world. No pain.
No sound.
Just silence.
And then—
Light.
Warm, blinding light.
His eyes snapped open.
He gasped, choking on air as if breathing for the first time.
The pain in his side was gone. The rain, the alley, the man—they were gone.
He lay on silk sheets in a vast chamber. Marble pillars. Floating crystals.
A ceiling so high it looked like a sky.
A mirror stood nearby.
Elior staggered to it.
The reflection staring back wasn't his.
The face was younger—seventeen, maybe eighteen. Hair a bit longer.
Eyes sharper.
There was power in that gaze.
A soft chime echoed through the room.
The door opened.
A woman in silver armor stepped in and knelt.
"Young Master Kaelith… you're awake."
Elior blinked.
"You must be confused," she said gently.
"There is much to explain.
But for now—welcome back. The Dominion needs its heir."
Elior stared at her, the weight of those words crashing into him.
He wasn't dead.
He wasn't home.
He was someone else.
And this world… was not Earth.