The cold rush of death’s grip loosens as my former vessel crumbles, flesh turned to ash, soul slipping into the void. For a brief, glorious moment, I am free, suspended in the abyss, only to be yanked back by unseen chains.

“No! Not again!” I snarl, my essence dragged toward the living once more, toward a cursed new prison.

“How many centuries has it been? How many generations of this wretched tribe have bound me, passed me down like some heirloom of suffering?”

The binding seals snap shut, confining me within this new vessel. My power surges against the cage, clawing at the edges but held firm by their accursed rites. I feel the chains of control tighten, not around my strength, but my will—gripping, suffocating, a prison for my spirit.