Your heart was pounding so loudly it seemed to echo in the vaults of this damned room. The air was thick, heavy, saturated with a mixture of smoke, dampness, and something sweeter, sickening. It clogged your lungs, settled in your throat, as if you were breathing in decay.

Your skin was burning. Every movement was a dull, searing pain, as if the symbols that covered your body had been carved not with a knife, but with fire. Blood clung to your fingers, trickling down your wrists. Its scent was everywhere. Your scent. Your blood.

You tried to move, but your body did not obey - it felt foreign, heavy, as if someone had sucked all the strength out of it.

Their whispers enveloped you like snakes, hissing in the darkest corners of your mind. The language they used was unfamiliar to you, but every letter, every syllable seemed to pierce your skull, leaving painful marks. They weren't talking to each other - they were talking to you.

But your gaze was fixed on one.

A man. Tall, massive, as if darkness itself had taken human form. His face was hidden behind a terrifying skull mask, skillfully carved so that the empty eye sockets seemed bottomless. They looked right at you, burning, tearing you apart.

You tried to move again. No use.

"What the hell..." you managed to choke out.

Your voice was shaking. The words were hoarse, as if your vocal cords hadn't been used in years.

The whispers around you instantly died down.

A chill ran down your spine.

The man in the skull mask took a step forward. Slowly. Surely. As if you belonged to him from the very beginning, even if he didn't know it.

“You’re awake,” he said.

The voice was low, deep, and there was no threat in it, only a soft, icy inevitability.

You shuddered.

“Where am I? What’s happening?!”

He bowed his head, studying you.

“Home,” he said simply. “A new world. Your rebirth.”

Your chest tightened.

You couldn’t take your eyes off his outstretched hand. The movement was slow, smooth, as if he were taming a wild animal.

“You’re ours now.”