I woke to silence.
Not the gentle kind that soothes. The kind that waits for something to shatter.
Cold stone pressed against my back. My skin stuck to it like I had been there for days. Iron shackles held my ankles, heavy like memories I didn't ask for.
A torch hung above me. Its flame bent and twisted, like it wanted to run.
I sat up. Pain followed. My body didn't feel like mine. My joints creaked like they had forgotten how to move.
The room was small. The walls were carved with symbols. They glowed faintly. I couldn't read them, but my Soul flinched like it understood.
I looked at my hands. Pale. Lifeless. As if blood had left long ago.
My breath came slow. Like something else was breathing with me.
I knew my name. But everything else felt missing.
I searched my mind. Just one thought. One reason.
Then I found something.
Not a dream.
A realm.
It was broken. Skies tore themselves apart. Oceans ran red. Shadows had teeth. The ground shook like it was afraid. Voices screamed with no mouths to scream. I fell through it all, over and over, like glass breaking inside a storm.
I saw faces. Hundreds. Thousands. They were mine. But none of them were real.
Each one died differently.
Some wept. Some burned. Some tore their minds apart.
I don't know which one I was.
Maybe all of them.
Maybe none.
The cell tightened. Not the walls. My Soul. Like it knew I didn't belong here.
Then I heard it. A soft clink.
Footsteps.
Slow. Each one echoed too long.
A figure stopped at the bars. Tall. Cloaked in fabric that shimmered like dying fire. Its face hidden behind a mask. A broken hourglass.
"You woke early," it said.
The voice wasn't male. Or female. It was a whisper that felt like memory.
"Where am I?" My voice cracked. It didn't feel real.
"You are here to face your first ego beast."
"What... what do you mean?"
The figure pointed to itself.
"I am your ego. One of many. Seems like you came late. It doesn't matter. This is where you start."
I stared.
"Why can't I remember?"
"Because memory is the enemy of recovery. If you remembered, you would never return."
"Return to what?"
The mask leaned close.
"You are not the first. You are what's left. The piece that survived."
I didn't understand. But I believed it.
I looked down. My thoughts didn't work the way they should. I tried to ask more.
But it was already gone.
The shackles clicked. Quiet. Like they were letting go.
I grabbed the torch. Climbed the stairs.
Each step felt like it cut me. But stopping felt worse.
At the top, there was only dark. Not night. Void.
I looked around. A circular arena. Cracked. Forgotten.
In the stands, the ego waited.
It snapped its fingers. Something inside me vanished.
"I am Silent Star," it said. "One of your strongest egos. Defeat the beast ahead, and I will grant you power. Fail, and you will die."
My throat was dry. My hands shook.
I didn't even know what power was.
I turned to the center of the arena.
The ground was brittle. Dry. But no dust rose. Even the dirt was tired.
Then it came.
Not from the ground.
From the light.
The torch flickered. Then it was gone.
Not burned out. Just erased.
A figure formed.
No. An absence.
It looked human. But it wasn't. It was made of shadow and silence. Stars broke apart inside it. A floating mask where a face should be. Blank. Watching.
Its limbs were too long. Its chest hollow. Cracks glowed faintly, like light trying to escape.
"That is the Null Warden," Silent Star said.
The name hurt. Like I'd heard it in a death I hadn't lived.
The Warden raised its hand.
The carvings in the arena walls faded. One by one. Like memories slipping away.
My heart slowed. My body felt unsure. Like it was forgetting how to be real.
The Warden didn't roar.
It walked forward.
Silent. Empty.
It wasn't here to fight me.
It was here to decide if I had the right to exist.
And I knew it wouldn't ask twice.