I remember closing my eyes. That's all.
One moment I was beneath the covers, trying to slow my breathing, the next... nothing. No dreams, no descent just an absence, a silence so deep it scraped something inside me raw.
When I "awoke," I was already standing. Not in my room. Not anywhere I recognized. The ground was stone slick, cold, humming. The air was thick, but dry, and it buzzed with an energy that felt wrong. Like it was watching me. Like it knew me.
I walked through a very dark corridor, it was tight, dark, and I could only go forward. After what seemed like an eternity walking I finally saw a slight light.
A circle stretched out around me - barely visible, etched into the stone floor. Four tall black pillars loomed at the edges, each one cracked and ancient, yet pulsing faintly. They were breathing.
I didn't know how I got here.
I took a step forward and the circle lit up beneath me. A dim, pulsing red glow. That was when I realized: I was standing in the center of an altar.
And that's when the whispering began.
At first, I thought it was wind. But the air didn't move. Then I thought it was my own thoughts, repeating back at me.
But they weren't.
The words were not mine.
"Our dawn. Our light. Our darkness."
The first voice came from nowhere and everywhere. Cold and regal, like the voice of a dead king.
A pillar behind me erupted into flame. Red. Flickering with something inside it-something alive.
"We wake you to once again bless a new blood within our family."
A second voice, older. Cracked like bone. Another pillar lit, bursting into crimson fire.
I turned, slowly. Shapes had formed around the circle. Hooded. Silent. I couldn't see faces, but I felt their eyes.
"Ancient and unknown, we acknowledge you."
Third flame. I tried to move, but my legs wouldn't respond. The air was tightening around me like a fist.
"Through you, our eyes are open."
Fourth flame. The fire danced up the pillar like veins bursting with life.
"Tied to our family, you fuel us."
I began to hear a name in the whispers now. Brad. All murmuring from just beyond the veil. I looked again, and there he was. Brad. Eyes wide. Reverent. Silent. Watching.
"Somnia, come forth, and allow this mortal to connect with you."
Everything stopped.
The fires froze mid-motion. The air collapsed inward, folding reality in half. Sound died. Even my heartbeat stuttered then vanished.
And then…
It came.
The void cracked.
And from it, an eye opened.
Not like ours. No. It was impossible. Red sclera, black endless pupil, teeth like carved obsidian surrounding it like a crown of jaws. Smaller eyes circled it in orbit, blinking one by one in chaotic rhythm, each one locking onto me.
I couldn't scream. My mouth was open, but no sound came.
The eye blinked.
And I rose.
Lifted from the altar like a puppet without strings. My body convulsed, but I couldn't control it. Something inside me snapped and the pain began.
Not pain like a wound. This was existential. My veins writhed. My skin melted and reformed. I heard my bones snap, shatter, rebuild. My nerves stretched like wires across an unseen chasm. My memories screamed as they were pulled apart, unraveled, shredded.
I don't remember my name. I don't remember who I was.
But I remember this: The Eye remade me.
It rewrote me.
When the pain stopped, I dropped back to the altar floor. Steam rose from my skin. My hands were new. My breath felt wrong. My blood calmer.
The figures watched.
Brad stepped forward and whispered, "Welcome home."
I was no longer who I had been. But I was one of them.
I am Demascus.