"Some souls need death to awaken."
The Hall of Flames
Shadow stood before the throne. He could still feel the heat of the flames pulsing through the walls like veins. The demon hall was alive – it breathed, it whispered.
Shädow sat with arms crossed upon the obsidian throne, his gaze piercing straight into Shadow's heart.
"You want to bring them back, don't you? Your family. Your brother. Your life."
Shadow remained silent.
"You can't.
But you can have something far more valuable."
"What?" Shadow clenched his teeth. "Revenge?"
"No.
Memory.
The power to make sure they didn't die for nothing."
Shädow rose. His sword, large as a coffin, blazed in his hand.
"Cast aside your old name.
And embrace the Shadow."
Shadow knelt. The flames engulfed him.
He didn't scream — but inside, something shattered.
"I am… Shadow."
Shädow laid the blade on his shoulder.
Flames tore into his flesh, dark runes burned themselves into his skin.
"Then rise — General of Shadows."
The Awakening
The demon realm opened.
Shadow warriors — beings of smoke, bone, and agony — emerged from the walls. They knelt. Whispered his name like a curse:
"Shaaaadow…"
He was their commander now.
And he would reclaim the world — one blade at a time.
"He was no longer human.
He had become what we all feared to become."
Northern Borderlands – Two Months Later
A village in the Darkmark. Fog crept over scorched fields.
Children's corpses lay in the dirt. Survivors wept, but no enemies remained. Only fear.
A scream echoed.
A column of riders approached — armor forged of black steel, banners bearing a broken eye.
At the front: Shadow.
No longer the boy he once was.
His armor flickered with dark light. His gaze — empty.
The demonblade on his back hummed like it hungered.
"What kind of army is that?" a farmer asked, trembling.
"Not an army," an old man whispered.
"A storm."
General Black
In his northern fortress, General Black drank wine in silence. His eyes scanned a bloodstained report.
"He's alive."
The Rend Hound, his field commander, smirked crookedly. "What are your orders, my lord?"
"None. Not yet."
"But he marches through the shadows — with demons at his side."
Black stared into the flames of his hearth.
"Then let him come.
I saw him die once.
And I'll see it again."
One Last Name
That night, Shadow sat alone.
Before him — a broken helmet. Cayden's.
He whispered:
"I couldn't save you.
But I'll bring to their knees everyone who did this.
For every drop of your blood — an ocean of theirs."
Then he climbed the hill, raised his sword into the night.
"March. Let the world know — the Shadow is coming."
Behind him: an army, forged from the souls of the damned.
Before him: war.
"He who sacrifices his humanity loses not only his heart.
But gains the echo of hell."
The March Begins
An ancient road, cloaked in mist.
Shadow warriors marched in perfect silence. No drums. No battle cries.
Only the metallic rasp of armor, and the soft tremble of the earth.
At the front rode Shadow, his eyes glowing like embers in the fog.
His demonblade hummed — hungry.
A village rose on the horizon. Smoke coiled upward.
It was already burning.
But by whom?
The Lost Village
When they arrived, the houses were destroyed — but no attackers remained.
Only corpses.
Shadow warriors tested the air, speaking to the ghosts of the dead.
"Not Black," one murmured.
"Something… else."
In the center of the village: a symbol, drawn in blood.
Three circles. An eye in the middle.
Shadow recognized it.
"The Cult of the Void."
The Return of an Enemy
In the North, General Black watched the trail of the shadow army. His warlord, the Rend Hound, approached.
"The boy marches straight toward the heart of the world."
Black:
"Then send a messenger.
Someone he knows."
"A dead one?"
Black only smiled.
"Every power has its price.
And every guilt seeks a body."
Demon Hall – At Night
Shadow awoke drenched in sweat within his tent. His wounds burned, dark runes pulsing beneath his skin.
Shädow emerged from the darkness.
"You're starting to feel what it means to carry me within you."
"I want vengeance. Not a curse."
"They are the same."
The First Traitor
A shadow warrior — once a kingslayer — approached Shadow with a secret report.
"There is one who still lives in your homeland.
A survivor of the royal bloodline."
Shadow froze.
"Who?"
"A girl.
Your little sister.
Hidden in the Temple of Orun."
The Choice
Shadow stood between two paths:
March on Black
Or return to the light, to his sister
Shädow spoke:
"Turn back — and you become weak.
March forward — and you will slay gods."
Shadow closed his eyes.
"I'll find her.
And then I'll burn the world."