Darkness.
It was endless. The kind of darkness that didn't echo, didn't breathe—didn't even remember what warmth felt like.
For a long while, Raven floated in it, weightless and hollow, unable to tell whether he was dreaming or merely gone.
Then—something changed.
A soft light began to pulse somewhere deep inside him, faint at first, then stronger, like a heartbeat that refused to stop.
His world slowly bled into color again.
That is when the smell hit—wet grass, blooming flowers, and the soft perfume of mana-infused dew.
A gentle breeze brushed past his hair, carrying with it the sound of chirping birds.
Raven's eyes fluttered open.
He was lying on the ground—no, not ground, but a bed of flowers. It was soft and glowing faintly under the light of a crystal-blue sky.
Green leaves were swaying lazily above him while a waterfall whispered somewhere nearby.
Everything around him breathed life itself.
"…Where—am I?" He muttered, his voice hoarse.
