The void was endless. A vast expanse of nothingness stretched in every direction, neither dark nor light, but something in between—a colorless eternity. There was no ground beneath him, no sky above, only the faint hum of existence itself. He floated there, weightless, his thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm.
His name had been Elias Veyrin. Twenty-seven years old. A life cut short. The memories came to him in fragments, flickering like dying embers in the darkness. He remembered the cold steel of the car door, the screech of tires on wet asphalt, and the blinding flash of headlights before everything went silent. It wasn't supposed to end that way. Not so soon. Not when he still had so much left undone.
Faces swam through his mind—his younger sister, Mia, with her crooked smile; his mother, always humming as she cooked; and his best friend, Jonah, who had been sitting beside him in the car. Was Jonah here too? Or had he survived? The thought clawed at him, but the void offered no answers. Only silence.
Elias tried to move, to speak, but his body—or whatever remained of it—was unresponsive. He was adrift in this endless nothingness, untethered from time and space. The memories began to unravel, slipping away like sand through his fingers. His name, his face, his very identity—it all felt distant, like a dream fading upon waking.
And then, the stillness shattered.
A voice called out, soft yet commanding, echoing through the void as though it came from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Elias."
It wasn't a question. It wasn't even a plea. It was a tether, pulling him through the emptiness with an invisible force. The void rippled around him, bending and twisting as if reality itself were being rewritten.
"Who...?" he tried to ask, but his voice was swallowed by the silence. Yet the call persisted, growing louder, clearer.
"Your time is not over," the voice said, firm now, resonating deep within his very soul. "You are needed."
Needed? For what? Elias's thoughts raced, but the voice gave no explanation. Instead, the void began to shift. Shapes emerged from the nothingness—faint outlines of places he couldn't quite recognize. A forest bathed in golden light. A city shrouded in mist. A battlefield littered with broken swords. Each image flickered for only a moment before dissolving back into the void.
Suddenly, the stillness cracked open, spilling light into the nothingness. It was blinding, warm, alive. Elias felt himself being drawn toward it, faster and faster, as if gravity had found him again. The hum of the void turned into a roar, and the fragments of his being began to knit together, piece by piece. He could feel his heart beating again, his lungs filling with air, his senses sharpening.
As he crossed the threshold, the voice spoke one last time, softer now, almost tender.
"Remember who you are. And remember why you must return."
With a gasp, Elias awoke—lungs burning, heart pounding, eyes wide. The world around him was unfamiliar, yet somehow, it felt like home. He sat up slowly, his hands trembling as they touched the earth beneath him. The air smelled of rain and pine, and the sky above was painted with streaks of gold and crimson.
He didn't know where he was or how he had come to be here. But one thing was certain: he had been given a second chance. And whoever—or whatever—had called him back wasn't finished with him yet.