Silence. Darkness. No sound. No light.
Aezur Valin floated. Without a body. Without a mind. Without form. Just a consciousness adrift in the void. It was the cradle of nothingness. The womb of oblivion. And he was part of it.
Memories. Shards of glass. They flickered and disappeared. Fleeting images. A world. Faces. Truths. All crumbled into cosmic dust. Only melancholy remained. Aezur didn't know who he was. Where he came from. Why he was there. The only certainty: he was the final manifestation of a forgotten concept. A primordial truth. Erased, yet stubbornly lingering within him.
A pulsation. Faint. Almost imperceptible. Like the wings of a moth in the abyss. Then stronger. Insistent. Resonating through the void. It wasn't sound. It was vibration. A ripple through non-existence. Aezur felt it in his very essence. A primordial call. From all directions. From nowhere. The echo of something awakening. Or dying.
With the pulsation came form. Not solid. A coalescence of energy. A whirl of colors that didn't exist. Textures that couldn't be touched. The void twisted. Trying to give birth to something forbidden. Aezur was pulled. Into a spiral. An irresistible force. Toward an unknown destiny. There was no fear. Only curiosity. A thirst for knowledge. The only real thing in his ethereal existence.
Then, the pain. Not physical. Existential agony. His essence torn apart. Reassembled. Every fiber screamed. But the pulsation continued. Relentless. Molding him. Transforming him. Aezur felt madness approach. A cold mist. Threatening to consume his consciousness. But he resisted. Clung to the only thing that felt real: being a forgotten concept. A truth that refused to die.
The pain faded. Still a distant echo. A promise it would return. Muffled sounds pierced the veil. Guttural murmurs. The rustle of heavy robes. The crack of bone. A ritual. He was at the center of it.
When Aezur opened his eyes, the void was gone. The primordial darkness too. There was reality now. Tangible. Oppressive. His skin, pale as ancient ash. His eyes, void of color. Reflecting the flickering light of strange crystals embedded in the damp, cold walls of an underground chamber. The air was thick. Mold. Blood. Something ancient. Metallic. Saturating the stone. He felt the weight of the world outside. Broken. Unraveling. On the brink of collapse. Few dared to acknowledge it.
In the center of the chamber, a stone altar. Runic symbols pulsed with latent, feverish energy. And upon the altar… a book. Bound in dark leather. A single eye engraved on its cover. The book watched him. A window into an abyss. Knowledge. Madness.
Aezur felt the pull. Irresistible. The book called to him. Whispering ancient secrets. Forbidden truths. He reached out. Corporeal fingers. Almost touching the cover.
Then… a voice. Not audible. A resonance in his mind. Deep. Ancient. From the depths of time.
"You have awakened, Echo. The ritual is complete. The truth has been distorted. But it cannot be erased. The world outside is rotten, Aezur. You are the key. You are the curse. And the game… has only just begun."
The eye on the cover glowed. Intense light. Aezur felt a wave of energy sweep through his being. It didn't strengthen him. It changed him. Distorted him. The rules of the universe bent around him. The laws of reality unraveled.
The cost. Sanity. Humanity. Everything was at stake.
Aezur Valin, the Echo of the Primordial Void, knew. His journey had only just begun. And it would lead him to places the human mind could not conceive. To truths that could drive gods mad.