It happened in an instant.
One moment, Ramon was walking down the rain-slick sidewalk on his way home from another brutal shift at the kitchen. Earbuds in, hood up, stomach empty. Just another cold evening in a city that didn't care he existed.
Then—the screech of tires.
A blare of a horn.
A blur of metal and light.
And pain.
It wasn't drawn out. There was no poetic last breath, no dramatic words whispered to the air. Just a white flash. A shattering crunch. A sensation like flying—and then…
Nothing.
No more pavement.
No more hunger.
No more Earth.
No more fap@&@&
But his soul didn't fade.
Instead, it was dragged—ripped from the coil of his shattered body like thread from torn cloth. Across the veil of space, time, and something stranger still.
Through a tear in existence, it was pulled. A vast, howling silence stretched around him. He could not scream. He could not breathe. But he was aware.
Then—
Impact.
Darkness.
Then pain.
Then—light.
But it wasn't sunlight. He could feel it.
Ramon—the one from Earth—jerked awake with a ragged breath, his chest rising as if he'd surfaced from the bottom of a deep, black ocean. His body trembled. His skin was cold. The ground beneath him was damp and rough, smelling of moss and blood and dust.
He blinked.
Above him loomed a sky stained purple-gray, with dying clouds swirling lazily above the treetops.
And standing before him was a castle.
It was carved from stone so black it swallowed light, jagged spires rising like spears into the sky. It didn't just look ancient—it felt it, like time itself had aged and hardened within its walls.
"What… the hell?" Ramon whispered.
But his voice wasn't right.
Not completely.
He looked down at his hands—calloused, scarred, rougher than they should be. His arms were lean but wiry. His chest ached. His breath was heavier than it used to be. His vision blurred, then focused again.
Then the memories hit him.
The orphanage.
The cold stone bed.
The humiliation at the Testing Stone.
The bitter taste of failure.
The forest. The hunt. The black castle.
And the pain of death.
Ramon doubled over, clutching his head as two lifetimes poured through his mind. Two sets of memories. Two lives. One soul.
One… Ramon.
He breathed harder, eyes wide with disbelief.
"This… can't be real."
And yet—how else could he explain it?
The soul of Ramon from Earth had merged with the dying body of a boy from another world. And somehow, impossibly, he was alive again.
His thoughts reeled, tumbling between disbelief and awe. There were no cars, no phones, no buildings in sight. No city lights or steel towers. No sound of traffic or buzz of electricity.
Only forest.
Only sky.
Only that towering black castle.
It drew his eyes again—massive and silent, like a giant's tomb, yet there was something about it that didn't just frighten him.
It called to him.
There was no logical reason why, but Ramon's feet began to move before his mind gave permission. The forest around him was quiet, even reverent. The thick mist clung to the undergrowth like it dared not trespass any closer to the castle's gate.
He stepped forward.
Closer.
Until he stood before the black gates—ajar, just enough for one man to slip through.
He hesitated.
For a moment, an image flashed behind his eyes: the other Ramon standing here, not long ago. The fear. The confusion. The moment he stepped forward—and died.
The castle had rejected him.
Unworthy.
And yet…
Ramon took a deep breath, clenched his fists, and stepped through.
The gates did not slam shut.
Instead, the air trembled.
A pulse.
As if the castle exhaled.
The hallway beyond was vast and cold, its ceiling lost in shadows. Torches ignited one by one along the walls—not with fire, but with a cool white glow. The floor was etched with glowing symbols, a language he didn't know but somehow understood.
Welcome.
Ramon paused.
"Is this… some kind of dream?"
His voice echoed through the corridor. He reached out and touched the wall. The stone pulsed faintly under his fingers—warm like skin, but firm as obsidian.
No dream was this vivid.
He walked forward, heart pounding louder than his footsteps.
He passed murals etched in silver and black across the walls—tales in stone and shadow.
A golden age long past.
Skies split by divine power.
Empires kneeling before gods.
And at the center of all, a figure cloaked in darkness and light.
Eyes like suns.
A throne that rose into the heavens.
Devotion offered by the world itself.
Lord Wuxian.
The First Sovereign of Faith.
The founder of a path long forgotten.
Ramon's breath caught in his throat. He didn't know why—but he felt fear looking at just the mural of this man named Wuxian.
Ramon hadn't fully gone through the old Ramon's memories so he didn't know who this was. But looking at the murals and this black castle, Lord Wuxian was trouble.
Suddenly the fear from Ramon's face faded and a look of determination appeared. He continued down the corridor, his steps firm and heavy.
The corridor ended in a wide, circular chamber. At its center floated a single black crystal, suspended in air above a pedestal of coiled stone.
It shimmered faintly—then flared, sensing him.
Ramon approached slowly, hands trembling.
The memory of the last Ramon's death rose in his mind.
But he wasn't afraid.
"I'm not him," Ramon whispered. "I… I don't know what I am anymore. But I didn't come all this way to stop here."
He stepped forward.
The crystal pulsed.
Then In a sudden flash of black light, the world twisted.
A figure emerged from the darkness, silent and still as death—the Shadow.
It stepped forward from nothingness, cloaked in writhing tendrils of inky mist, its presence drowning the air in dread. In its hand, a sword as black as void shimmered to life, its edge jagged and ancient, almost alive with hunger.
Ramon instinctively stepped back, his breath catching in his throat. The Shadow moved with purpose, placing itself before the crystal—like a sentinel, like a guardian. Its head turned ever so slightly, that shapeless, featureless face angling toward Ramon.
Confusion.
It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Ramon felt it—a flicker in the way the creature tilted its head, as if trying to recognize something… or someone.
Then, without a sound, the Shadow struck.
The sword moved like a streak of night, and before Ramon could react, it cleaved through the air and sank into him—not flesh, but soul.
"AAGHHHHHHHH!"
His scream tore through the still chamber, echoing off unseen walls. The pain wasn't physical—no blood spilled, no bones cracked—but it devoured him from within. Every nerve in his body burned like it had been dipped in acid, twisted, shredded, and then set alight.
He collapsed without realizing, hands clawing at the stone beneath him, eyes wide and filled with agony. It was as if the sword had carved into his very existence, unraveling the threads of who he was. His breath came in ragged gasps. He couldn't move. Couldn't think.
The pain was going to kill him.
And then—like a flame snuffed out—it was gone.
Just like that.
The silence returned. Cold. Oppressive. Heavy.
Ramon lay on the floor, chest heaving, limbs trembling. Sweat clung to his skin like a second layer. Slowly, shakily, he pushed himself to his hands and knees. His muscles screamed, not from injury, but from sheer exhaustion.
What… was that?
He hadn't even realized when he'd fallen. The Shadow no longer moved. It stood before the crystal again, silent as ever. Watching.
Guarding.
Ramon coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, heart still hammering in his chest. That attack hadn't been meant to kill.
It had been a warning. A test.
And somehow… he was still alive.
Just then, a voice filled the chamber—not sound, but thought. Deep and resonant. Neither cruel nor kind. It was a judgment. A scale.
"The first was weighed and found wanting. Heart clouded. Will fractured. Faith undefined."
Ramon froze.
"You are broken… yet boundless.
You do not believe, yet you hunger.
You matter for not one but two...… and thus, unbound by the limit..*"
"You are… worthy."
The crystal surged with black light as The Shadow slowly faded away.
Ramon's eyes widened as it shot toward his chest, slamming into him with a force that threw him backward.
He screamed.
His body rose into the air as light exploded from within his veins—lines of dark energy etching across his skin like scripture burned into flesh.
Flames surrounded him. Not hot. Not painful. But purifying.
The Heavy voice filled his mind:
"Then rise, O soul unclaimed.
Rise, Ramon of two ones.
Bear witness to the Kingdom Forgotten."
And just like that—everything changed.
When he landed, he gasped again—but this time, his body felt different.
Lighter. Sharper. As though something inside had been unlocked.
The crystal floated above his head now, dim and still, like a guardian that had finished its test.
And he… was not the same.
Ramon looked at his hands again. The scars remained. But something deeper stirred beneath his skin. Not spiritual energy. Not qi. Something more… Pure. Of power born not from talent, but from belief.
He didn't know what it was.
He exhaled, long and slow, the air trembling in his lungs.
"I'm still me," he murmured as he examined his body. The body was new but still he was Ramon.
He then turned to look back down the corridor. The castle's doors had sealed behind him.
There was no going back.
Only forward.
He faced the glowing path ahead—toward the deeper chambers of this unknown domain. His mind filled with questions and confusion.
But he had no time to sit and ponder as he could feel the crystal which felt like it had merged with his body, urging him to explore more, specially the glowing black door.
He pushed back the questions , confusion and doubts and took slow steps towards the door , ready to begin his journey in another world.