Me?
Darkness.
Endless. Suffocating. Absolute.
Adam's eyes shot open, but it made no difference. His vision was useless. There was nothing to see—no light, no shape, no sense of space. It was as if the world itself had been swallowed by a void. He reached out, feeling around him, but there was no texture, no surface—only an unyielding emptiness.
His breathing was ragged, each inhale sharp, each exhale a trembling gasp.
"Where... am I?"
His voice echoed back at him, distorted, warped—wrong. It wasn't just the sound that was foreign. It was himself. His thoughts were scattered, fragile, like broken glass held together only by a thin thread of panic. He tried to grasp something—anything—about himself.
His name?
He furrowed his brow. Adam. Yes, that was his name. He clung to it desperately, an anchor in the overwhelming nothingness.
His face? His body?
His chest tightened. A surge of terror clawed at his mind. His memories were missing, slipping through his grasp like water through his fingers. He tried to picture his reflection, but all that surfaced was an empty void.
"What do I look like?"
A shiver ran down his spine.
"What am I?"
The question hit harder than he expected.
It was like a fissure cracked through his very being, splitting him open from the inside. His mind spiraled, voices echoing in his head.
Who am I? Who am I? Who am I? WHO AM I?!
The words repeated endlessly, a rising cacophony that threatened to consume him. The darkness around him pulsed, moving unnaturally, shifting with his growing distress. His body—if he even had one—began to blur, dissolving into the surrounding void.
"Am I even real?"
The thought sent him into a downward spiral, and the darkness responded in kind. It twisted, coiling around him like living tendrils, dragging him deeper into its abyss.
No!
A sudden pulse of defiance ignited within him. A spark—small but unwavering.
"I AM ALIVE!"
His voice roared through the void, shaking the darkness itself. The suffocating abyss cracked like fragile glass. Light—faint at first—began to seep through the fractures. The pressure weighing him down started to lift.
"I don't care if I have no memories, no face, no past," he declared, his voice stronger now, burning with newfound determination. "I EXIST, AND THAT IS ENOUGH!"
The cracks deepened. The darkness howled in protest, writhing as if in agony. But Adam refused to falter. He pushed forward, grasping at the fragments of himself that remained.
The void shattered.
A brilliant, peach-colored sun blazed into existence behind him. Its flames licked the air, yet they carried no heat—at least, not to him. The dark tendrils recoiled, disintegrating under its radiant glow.
Adam staggered forward, his eyes wide as he took in the ethereal sight. He recognized this flame—felt it in the very core of his being.
"The Sun of Desire…"
He had felt its presence before, but now, it was incomplete. It flickered, unstable, as if missing a vital piece. And Adam understood why. It had absorbed the desires of others… but never his own.
His gaze hardened.
That ends now.
Stepping forward, he placed his hand upon the burning sphere. The instant he made contact, a rush of warmth surged through his body. His very soul responded, pouring into the flame, feeding it, stabilizing it.
The sun pulsed.
Then, without warning, countless ethereal, multi-colored threads burst forth, weaving themselves around the celestial body. The intricate web of desires formed a barrier, trapping the heat yet allowing it to circulate in perfect harmony.
Some of the threads detached, latching onto the endless white expanse that had replaced the void. Energy flowed through them, breathing life into the empty space.
More threads extended outward, connecting to Adam himself.
A jolt ran through him as an immense surge of power flooded his veins.
Then, a voice—ancient, familiar—echoed in his mind.
[Congratulations, Adam. You have restored the Godhood of Desire that has been bestowed upon you. You are one step closer to taking ownership of this Authority.]
Adam's breath hitched.
Godhood? Authority?
Before he could process the revelation, the very world beneath him shook. The white floor under the Sun of Desire shifted, becoming reflective, like a perfect mirror.
And in that mirror…
He saw himself.
But it wasn't him.
The reflection was beautiful, eerily so. It wore a soft, knowing smile, its eyes shimmering like two radiant stars in an endless night. Dark, shifting tendrils surrounded it, moving like a living shadow. And in its hands, it held the threads of fate, manipulating them like a puppeteer.
Adam's breath caught in his throat.
His gaze followed the threads down… leading directly to himself.
Horror crept up his spine.
Slowly, he tilted his head up, eyes widening in realization. His reflection did the same.
But while Adam saw only empty space above him, his reflection was looking directly at something.
Something above him.
Something unseen.
Adam's pulse pounded in his ears.
Was there another version of himself controlling him?
The mere thought sent an ice-cold dread seeping into his bones. He opened his mouth to speak, to demand answers—
But the world shattered.
The white expanse collapsed, and reality dragged him back.
…
Adam's eyes snapped open.
His body was drenched in sweat, his breath shallow and erratic. He was lying on something soft—silk, perhaps. A bed? His limbs felt weak, his chest tight.
The lingering remnants of the vision clung to him, sending his heart into a frenzied rhythm. What the hell was that?
A voice cut through his thoughts.
"Oh? You're awake?"
His head turned, eyes locking onto a figure standing beside him.
A man—tall, with elegant white robes adorned in gold trim—watched him with intrigue. His pale silver hair cascaded down his back, his piercing golden eyes filled with curiosity and something unreadable.
Adam's muscles tensed instinctively.
"Who…" His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.
The man smiled. It was warm, yet unsettlingly knowing.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Ciel Starlight."
Adam's breath hitched.
Ciel Starlight.
That was the name he had given to Triss and Maple. The name he had fabricated.
Yet the way this man spoke it…
It felt as though he were calling him by his true name.
Adam's hands curled into fists. His mind was still reeling, but one thing was clear—
Something far greater was at play here. And he needed to find out exactly what that was.