The beginning of a long journey

Azrael was floating in darkness. He wasn't sure how long; time had slowly lost its meaning to him.

No matter how many times he experienced it, it always hurt and was terrifying.

How many lives had he lived? How many times had he watched people die? How many times had he died? A hundred? A thousand? Ten thousand? He didn't know. It didn't matter.

All that mattered was that it stopped. He wondered if this was eternal damnation. He cried and begged for someone or something to save him, but nothing answered. All that was there was darkness, death, and the sheer inevitability of it.

Azrael's eyes slowly opened as he lay on the forest floor, surrounded by dead bodies of the cyval empire soldiers. He sat up and looked around, taking in the sight of thousands of corpses.

Before him was the being that had exuded the aura that had made him tremble with fear. But now, Azrael felt nothing; his face remained emotionless, but a certain dread could be felt, and his grey eyes gave out a subtle glow.

"Did you kill them?" Azrael asked.

"They seemed to have died from my aura," it replied.

"They needed to die regardless," it continued.

Azrael noticed that it was still nighttime and it seemed as though less than an hour had passed since he lost consciousness, although to him, it had felt much longer. He looked straight at the being in front of him before asking, "Who are you?"

"I go by many names," the being said, its voice deep and profound. "The Abyssal Sentinel, the Titan Slayer, the Hand of Death, but you can call me Mortimer." Mortimer then stabbed his large sword into the ground and sat on a fallen tree.

Azrael remained calm, his eyes scanning around, trying to analyze the situation. He was left even more confused, unable to understand anything. "What is happening?" Azrael asked Mortimer, hoping to get a definite answer to clear up his confusion.

"The start of a very long journey," Mortimer replied.

As Azrael tried to make sense of Mortimer's vague response, his face which once showed no emotion gleamed with fear and sadness. He looked at Mortimer then said, "A few minutes ago, I was in darkness and I kept on living these terrible li..." Azrael tried to explain before Mortimer cut him off.

"That was the Dark Slumber, a curse tied to you, but it is also needed to replenish your dark ki, the ki which I also possess."

"What dark ki? Please, just tell me it won't happen again, tell me I won't go through that again...that darkness," Azrael said with his voice shaking.

"The only way to prevent it is by constantly raising the amount of dark ki within you," Mortimer replied.

"How do I do that?" Azrael asked.

"Death, if not yours, then the death of others," Mortimer answered.

"What does that mean?" Azrael asked.

"I can't sense anyone close yet, but more will come here soon. You must leave, and I will explain at a later time," Mortimer said.

"Why would I leave? I'll wait here for Zefron's reinforcement," Azrael said.

Mortimer grabbed his large sword from the ground, walked towards Azrael, and stood before him. "Listen, what you must face, the Dark Slumber, all of these things are questions only I can answer. So follow my instructions, and I'll answer all the questions you have," Mortimer said.

"Why can't you answer my questions now?" Azrael asked.

"We do not have much time left. They are coming, and I'm starting to fade away. Listen to my instructions carefully," Mortimer replied.

"Go east, and when you're out of this forest, continue North. You will find another forest, and within the forest will be a cave. When you're close, you will sense it," Mortimer said as his body started fading.

"When you get there, I might have regained enough power for you to summon me. So just call out my name, and when that time comes, I shall explain what is needed to be explained," Mortimer said as he completely faded away.

Azrael found himself at a crossroads. He had wanted to wait for the reinforcements from Zefron's Empire, but the unanswered questions about the dark slumber and the possibility of the Cyval Empire's soldiers arriving first made him uncertain. He decided to head east immediately, hoping to avoid any confrontations along the way.

As he journeyed, Azrael couldn't help but reflect on the events of the day. He had just met his squad and already he considered them comrades, but they were all dead now.

The loss of his companions didn't seem to stir any emotions in him. His lack of feeling was a result of the dark slumber - it had caused him to experience countless deaths and the pain of others. It had stripped him of his ability to feel any emotions, leaving him numb and detached from the world ,so many times he had seen death and he had come to terms with its inevitability.

Azrael had watched so many lives come to an end, and with each new death, he felt the joy, innocence, and ignorance of the person fade away to be replaced by sorrow and tragedy. He was just an observer trapped in an abyss forced to witness the lives of others, feeling their pain and sorrow.

what fate could be worse than this?

Suddenly, Azrael sensed a presence a few hundred meters away. He had never been able to sense people before.

He knew that they could be forces of either empire, and it was best not to confront them. He quickly changed direction, but it seemed as though the people he sensed were pursuing him.