Darkness.
Not the darkness of night.
Not the darkness of shadow.
This place was something else entirely.
A realm where light had never existed.
The sky was not a sky at all. It was an endless black void that seemed to swallow everything. The ground beneath was cracked and hollow, like a world that had died long ago.
No wind moved here.
No sound lived here.
Only silence.
A silence so deep that even time itself felt slow.
And then—
Space tore open.
A jagged rift appeared in the middle of the void like a wound in reality.
Dark energy leaked from its edges.
The rift widened slowly.
And from it—
A man stepped out.
Zorwath.
His long black coat moved gently as he walked forward, his boots touching the cracked ground with slow, confident steps.
The rift behind him closed instantly.
He looked around.
The empty landscape stretched endlessly in every direction.
Broken stone towers.
Collapsed temples.
Fragments of ancient structures floating in the air.
