The world had already ended before Kael Arden opened his eyes.
A cold wind brushed against his face, carrying the scent of dust and metal. When he tried to move, the ground beneath him cracked like dry bone.
Gray sand stretched endlessly to the horizon, and above it — a pale sky, colorless and hollow.
He sat up slowly, his heartbeat echoing inside his head. His breath turned white in the air, even though it wasn't cold.
He didn't remember his name. He didn't remember… anything.
But he did remember the sound — a whisper buried deep inside the silence.
"System initializing…"
The words didn't come from outside. They bloomed in his mind like a faint vibration, leaving a metallic aftertaste on his tongue.
"Who said that?" His own voice startled him — it sounded dry, like a man who hadn't spoken in years.
No one answered. Only the wind.
He looked at his hands — scarred, calloused, strong. He was dressed in travel-worn clothes: a dark tunic, leather boots caked with gray dust, and a long piece of cloth wrapped around his arm, stained by something that might've been blood. Not armor. Not royal robes. Just… something practical.
Something that told him he'd been moving for a long time, long before he woke up here.
In the distance, shapes jutted out of the ground — broken pillars, rusted metal, fragments of buildings half-swallowed by the earth.
A city, maybe. Or the corpse of one.
He started walking.
The silence pressed heavier with every step.
There were no birds, no insects, no sound except his boots grinding against the ash.
Yet… there was light. Faint, golden veins running through the cracks in the ground, pulsing like a heartbeat.
He crouched down. The glow reflected faintly in his eyes — and for a moment, the truth of his own reflection startled him.
In his brown irises, thin concentric circles shimmered faintly under the light, like hidden runes etched around the pupil.
When the glow touched them, they came alive — a faint, golden rotation.
And then the voice returned.
"User recognized."
"Access level: Unknown."
"World integrity: 0.02%."
Kael froze. "World integrity?" he repeated, almost laughing. "What world?"
The ground trembled slightly in answer.
A gust of wind swept through the wasteland, and the horizon flared for an instant — as if something under the ashes had stirred.
Then silence again.
He exhaled and stood up. "Fine. Let's say I'm crazy," he muttered. "If this is madness, at least it's consistent."
Hours passed — or maybe only minutes. Time didn't exist here, not really.
The gray sun hung motionless in the sky, refusing to set or rise.
Eventually, Kael reached the ruins.
What had once been a tower now lay collapsed like the spine of a dead giant. Melted stone fused with glass, frozen mid-collapse.
He climbed through the rubble and entered what looked like a hall.
Inside — bones. Charred, twisted, scattered among the stones like discarded relics.
At the center stood something… untouched: a crystal sphere, suspended above a cracked pedestal, still glowing faintly.
The moment he stepped closer, the whisper filled his skull again.
"Core of Reconstruction detected."
"Warning: User memory integrity compromised."
"To restore the world, a sacrifice is required."
Kael stared at the orb. The glow inside it looked almost alive — swirling patterns of light, like storms trapped inside glass.
"A sacrifice?" he murmured. "Of what?"
"Memory fragment required."
The words were calm. Too calm.
He clenched his fists. "I don't even know who I am. You want to take more?"
No answer. Only the steady pulse of light, like a heartbeat waiting for his decision.
He hesitated. He could walk away. He could ignore this strange voice, this impossible light.
But deep inside, beneath the fear and confusion, there was a single thought that felt… older than his memory.
You've done this before.
The idea came uninvited — cold and certain. His hands trembled as he reached toward the orb.
Warmth met his skin. A flood of images burst through his mind — fleeting, half-formed.
A city of light. A child laughing. A woman's voice saying his name.
Then — fire. Collapse.
The world turned to dust.
And the warmth turned to pain.
He fell to his knees as the light consumed him, searing through every nerve.
When it faded, he was gasping — and the orb's glow spread outward, seeping into the cracks of the ground like liquid gold.
The wind shifted. The air changed.
The ash no longer fell.
For the first time, color bled back into the world — faint green shoots pushing through the gray.
It was small. Fragile. But alive.
Kael stared at it, heart pounding.
Then, quietly, the voice returned — softer this time, almost… human.
"Restoration progress: 1%."
"Memory fragment removed: Name of origin."
He blinked. "Name of… what?"
He tried to recall something — a place, a city, a homeland. Nothing came.
Just a blank space where the memory should have been.
He exhaled slowly, the realization heavy as stone.
The system hadn't lied. It had taken something — something important.
But when he looked at the fragile plant growing through the ash, he felt something unexpected.
Hope.
Or maybe just the illusion of it.
He stood in the glowing ruins, the reborn light painting his face in gold and shadow.
The circles in his eyes glowed faintly again, responding to the pulse beneath his feet.
He looked at the endless gray horizon — the corpse of the world — and spoke quietly, as if to the voice itself.
"All right," he said. "If rebuilding this world means losing myself… then I'll find out who I was along the way."
The wind answered him with a sigh, carrying dust and light through the ruins.
Then, faintly — almost tenderly — the whisper came again.
"Welcome back, Kael Arden."
He froze. "You… you know my name?"
"You told me to remember it for you."
The light around him flickered. The orb dimmed, as if retreating into the earth.
Kael stared into the horizon, where the ashes began to shimmer like dawn.
And in the silence between heartbeats, one thought echoed in his mind —
a truth half-remembered, half-feared:
He wasn't the savior of this world.
He was the reason it had to be rebuilt.
To be continued…