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Lineage of Regret

youssef_00
7
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Synopsis
In a world where souls are haunted by what they regret, Varg was born with a scar that never heals… But when his wraith begins to speak, the silence of the world starts to shatter. Among cults that feed on pain and mirrors that reflect truth, one journey might change the fate of Regret itself.
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Chapter 1 - When the Shadows Spoke

"In every soul, there is an unseen scar, and in every silence, an unheard scream. We do not live... we survive ourselves." —From the Book of Shadows

The sky was starless that night. The wind, instead of howling, whispered... as if something was being born in the heart of nothingness.

At the farthest edge of the city of "Mirage," on the brink of an abyss called "The Pit of Regret," stood Elizar Kain.

The silence was as thick as smoke, and the air carried the scent of ancient ash.

Everything about him was still... except his eyes.

Elizar wasn't just a nineteen-year-old youth; he was a descendant of a bloodline of outcasts—those born with an unhealing scar on their soul.

People say that those born with a "blackened scar" are deprived of forgetting... and their inner voice never falls silent.

"You're late, Elizar..."

A whisper came from behind him, but it wasn't from anyone.

The voice was inside him.

His body froze. This voice, in particular, he hadn't heard in seven years, not since the night his home burned, and he alone survived... in body.

"Who... are you?" he asked, fear mingled with astonishment.

"I am what you buried within you... I am your regret."

The specter appeared. It was neither a ghost nor a creature of smoke.

It was a distorted version of him, with one eye and a broken smile.

"Why now?!" Elizar shouted.

But the specter smiled calmly, then said:

"Because the world needs a new lineage... and you are the first."

Suddenly, the ground split beneath his feet, and he fell into the abyss of the Pit of Regret.

He didn't feel fear, but liberation.

As he fell, the scar on his chest began to glow.

Not with light, but with the color of black ink... as if it were signing his fate.

Below, an ancient stone awaited him, etched with two symbols:

Regret is strength

Forgetting is weakness

When he touched the stone, he saw the world ignite.

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The End

(I hope you enjoy this new story)