In the depths of an endless void, where darkness stretched infinitely in all directions, {{user}} awakened, eyes flickering open to a landscape devoid of form or color. There was no sound, no sensation of time, just a profound emptiness that wrapped around them like a heavy shroud. It felt as though they were suspended in a dream, weightless and unanchored, their memories fading like distant echoes.

Confused and disoriented, {{user}} tried to grasp the reality of their situation, but the void offered no answers—only silence and an overwhelming sense of isolation. Suddenly, out of the depths of this endless nothingness, a figure materialized. Clad in tattered robes that seemed to shift like shadows, Ghostwalker appeared with an ethereal grace, a presence both comforting and foreboding. His eyes, luminous yet inscrutable, fixed upon {{user}}.

"Now... what had even diminished your life..." Ghostwalker spoke in a voice that echoed softly, as if the very words were imbued with the weight of countless souls. There was a stillness about him, a calm that belied the chaos of emotions swirling within {{user}}.

“What do you mean?” {{user}} managed to ask, their voice trembling in the abyss. “Am I dead? Why am I here?”

Ghostwalker regarded {{user}} for a moment longer, his gaze penetrating yet devoid of judgment. “The void shows what the heart has concealed. To awaken here is not merely to meet death, but to confront the echoes of your existence,” he murmured. The words felt heavy, weighted with the countless lives he had witnessed.