Chapter 1: The Search for Self
He awoke, but did not know his name.
No face lingered in his memory, no past stirred within him—only a heavy feeling that he should not be here.
Everyone had a name… except him.
"Hey, stranger," that's what they called him.
But he was not a stranger to himself—only to the entire world.
The sky was a reassuring shade of blue, falsely so, and the sun smiled with a calmness no sane mind would trust.
The trees stood as if they knew their place in the world.
He, on the other hand… didn't even know if he had a place.
Everything seemed ordinary—until he saw the man holding a child and drinking his blood as though it were cold water on a sweltering day.
He didn't scream.
He didn't run.
He simply looked at his own hands.
Would he become like them?
Would he remain without a name, without purpose, without a self… forever?
He knew only one thing:
This world was not as it seemed.
And neither was he.
He kept walking, his feet moving along an endless, misty path.
Everything around him was still, yet something deep inside pulsed with unease.
Had he been in this place for hours? Days?
No one knew.
Or maybe… no one cared.
Then, in a strange moment, he felt something watching him.
It wasn't a sound that caught his attention first, but a searing sensation in his head—like someone breathing against his neck.
He hesitated, then turned.
A mysterious figure stood in the shadows, face veiled, cloaked in an aura of enigma.
Long black hair flowed over her shoulders, and her eyes glowed as if they could see beyond the dark itself.
She walked toward him with slow, deliberate steps, yet the ground beneath his feet seemed to tremble.
"You're here… finally."
The boy replied in a faint voice, "Who are you?"
The figure gave a faint smile, raising her hands in the air as if manipulating the very truths of the universe.
"My name doesn't matter now. But you… you need to understand something before you can move forward."
"What is this place? What are you doing here?" he asked, pressing his mind to piece together any coherent thought.
The figure stepped closer and said,
"This place is not a place… it's a space between places.
Everything here is merely a reflection of yourself.
And now, it's time for you to know who you are."
He scoffed bitterly.
"I don't even know who I am. How can I learn that here?"
"You will… but only if you're ready to accept the truth.
This world—as you see it—doesn't obey reason.
It lets you lose yourself, until you embrace the fact that you are part of the chaos.
You're here because you're caught between something… between who you were and who you are becoming."
Then, with a sudden motion, the figure lifted her hands and opened a door that hadn't been there before—
as if it had been just a mirage.
The door shimmered with strange colors, reflecting rapidly shifting scenes:
cities crumbling, people falling, and winged creatures soaring across the skies.
"Through this door… you'll find the answer," she said, her eyes widening unnaturally.
But the boy hesitated.
Something stirred in his heart, as though the obstacle before him was more than just a door.
Perhaps the truth itself was more than he could bear.
Could he trust this strange being?
Or would he continue wandering, searching for himself in a world that made no sense?
"Do it," she said, "or you'll remain a stranger… forever."
In that moment, something stirred inside him—
a subtle yet powerful transformation.
Perhaps this was the first glimpse of understanding…
or the beginning of a change he could never undo.
He drew a deep breath—
and chose to move forward.
He accepted… to be.