O! Fated One!

Huh? What is this?

I blinked, my vision adjusting to the cold, sterile room. The steady hum of the AC filled the air, machines beeping in rhythmic waves, numbers flickering on screens. A sharp disinfectant smell clung to everything.

Am I… back on Earth?

"Son… you're here?"

My stomach dropped. That voice—weak, muffled, yet painfully familiar—sent a tremor through my chest. I turned, and there she was, lying on the hospital bed, an oxygen mask covering her face.

Her half-open eyes found mine, hazy yet full of warmth. A lump formed in my throat, my voice refusing to come out. Finally, I managed to choke out, "Mom…" My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

A faint smile touched her lips. "What? I'm okay… don't worry," she murmured.

No, you're not.

I knew the truth too well. I clenched my fists, determination burning in my chest. I won't let her die. Not again. No matter how hard I have to work.

She studied my face before giving a slow nod, silently beckoning me closer. I leaned in, and her frail fingers wrapped around my hand.

"Don't worry about me… dear. You've worked hard. Now, live for yourself…"

My breath caught. No. No, not this. My hands trembled. These were her last words… the ones she had spoken before she—

"Mom… please," my voice cracked. "I'll work three times harder… it won't matter, just—just don't give up. I still need you."

Tears blurred my vision as the long, piercing beep of the monitor filled the room.

And her hand slipped from mine.

I gripped her hand, my tears slipped my cheek and fell on her hand. I let you down, Mom. I poured everything I had into saving you, but it wasn't enough—fate's a bastard I couldn't break, no matter how hard I fought.

"Pathetic."

My body jerked, heart slamming hard. That voice—too rough, too familiar —cut the air. The ground squished, then broke apart, sharp bits stabbing my feet.

I turned fast, neck popping, eyes wide. Nathan. He stood there, his cold eyes looking down at me like an insect. The air stank, choking me. My breath came out rough, and my head throbbed bad. What's happening?

"You think life gives a shit about your effort?" His smirk slashed his face, a bleeding wound. "Bust your ass, smile pretty, and it all falls in your lap? You're a goddamn moron." The walls wept crimson, rivers of it, then hardened to splintered rock, scraping the air.

He lunged, sudden, boots silent on the trembling earth, his snarl a razor against my ear. "You want it? You steal it. Rip their throats out and drink the blood. Crush their skulls under your heel." The air shrieked, electric and jagged, and my head erupted—molten, then frozen—screaming agony.

Stop. Fucking stop it. It howled inside, but my mouth was stone, useless.

"Anything—anyone—dumb enough to stand in your way? You don't tiptoe past." His face flared, sharp as a blade, then melted, a smear of fire in the black. "You don't climb it like a spineless dog. You annihilate it. Grind their bones to dust. Mercy? That's a cage for losers—kick it down, or it buries you." His hand hovered, inches from my chest, and I felt it—claws shredding through muscle, cracking ribs.

Pain detonated, a bomb in my brain, splintering everything. The sky—or whatever it was—tore open, vomiting shadows that lashed his legs like chains. My vision drowned in red, fracturing. "Wake up," he roared, voice a thunderclap shattering my spine, echoing in my marrow. "You think you can change your fate like this? If you want to change it, destroy it—smash it to pieces and make it your own."

"You're still hesitating?" He laughed, a guttural, ripping sound, as the ground boiled, bubbling up around my ankles. "You think sorry saves you? You think please wins? I'll carve it into your skull: weakness is death. Kill it, or it kills you." His fist slammed the air, and the shockwave cracked my teeth.

I staggered, the earth dissolving—slimy, sucking, then nothing. "Look at you," he sneered, stepping closer, his shadow swallowing me. "Shaking. Begging inside. You're a ghost already—gutless, useless. Break it. Break you. Or I'll do it myself." His eyes blazed, twin infernos, and the air screamed as my chest imploded.

Kill it, he mouthed—no, I did—and the pain wasn't just pain anymore. My hands clenched, nails biting flesh, and something—something—shifted.

"Now fucking wake up, idiot," he barked, his voice a final lash, splitting the dark as the world burned out.

"Huuuuuuh!"

My eyes flew open as I gasped for air, my chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven breaths. Is it a dream? Sweat dripped down my face, my body trembling as if I had been suffocating for an eternity.

"Haa… haa… w-where am I?" My voice came out hoarse. The dim lighting blurred my vision, shadows flickering across the walls.

"Argh!"

A sharp pain shot through my chest. My hand instinctively moved to the source, only to find thick bandages tightly wrapped around my torso. Right… I was stabbed.

A flood of memories surged through me, replaying the moment the blade plunged into my body. I exhaled sharply, glancing at my other hand—it was stitched back together, wrapped in a thin layer of white cloth.

I turned my head slightly, taking in my surroundings. This… isn't the hidden chamber. The room was enclosed by stone walls, dim torches casting an eerie glow. The air was thick, suffocating. A hard, narrow bed pressed against my back—proof that someone had brought me here.

"At long last, thou hast awakened."

A mature voice.

My head snapped to the side, instincts flaring. A woman stood at the edge of the room, draped in black, a hood casting shadows over her face. Wide eyes locked onto mine.

She rushed forward, a grin stretching unnaturally across her lips as she studied my face.

"At long last… freedom is ours."

Something twisted in her expression—exhilaration, madness, reverence.

She suddenly thrust a black robe into my hands. "Don this. I shall bear word to the others." Without another word, she spun on her heels and vanished through the door.

I looked down at the robe, then at myself—my bare body exposed to the cold air.

Within moments, two more women, dressed in the same dark garments, entered the room. Their eyes gleamed with the same unsettling devotion.

"My lord, I pray thee, awaken. All await thy presence."

They said something in an ancient tongue before helping me to my feet, their hands firm yet reverent as they draped the robe over me.

Supporting me on either side, they guided me forward. My steps were unsteady, my body weak, but I pressed on.

Beyond the corridor, a grand hall stretched before me—vast and eerily silent. Lining every pillar stood ominous statues of serpentine figures, half-human, half-snake, their cold eyes seeming to watch my every move. At the center of the hall, an unoccupied throne loomed, shrouded in an unsettling aura of forgotten power.

Women of all ages began emerging from the shadows, their gazes locked onto me. Their expressions twisted with shock, awe, and something I couldn't quite place. More and more gathered, their murmurs rising into a chaotic chorus.

"Step aside! Let me see him!"

Their bodies slammed against the crowd as they fought to push forward.

Their voices were erratic and rushed, clashed over one another.

"Is he truly the one foretold?"

"At long last, we may leave this accursed place!"

"Freedom is ours!"

Suddenly, a sharp, commanding voice rang out near the throne.

"Silence! The Queen approacheth!"

The hall fell into an uneasy hush, only hushed whispers lingering in the air. My pulse quickened.

From the far side of the hall, a group of women appeared, dressed in long black robes embroidered with intricate designs. Unlike the others, their presence was suffocating—heavy, oppressive. As they advanced toward the throne, the very air in the room seemed to tremble beneath their steps.

The woman leading them came to a halt before the massive, empty throne. With deliberate grace, she lowered herself onto the seat while the others took their positions on either side.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she lifted her hood.

A strikingly beautiful woman with cascading black hair revealed herself. Her emerald-green eyes swept over the gathered crowd—hundreds of women, all focused on me.

Her voice rang out, regal and absolute.

"Hearken, all! The hour is upon us—the fated one hath arrived!"

Her words sliced through the air like a blade.

"WHOOOAAAAAHHHH!"

The crowd erupted into wild cheers.

"Our gratitude, O Matriarch!"

"Hail, O Fated One!"

"At long last, our vengeance shall be wrought!"

The voices of many women rose in unison, their cries echoing through the air. I stood frozen, my mind racing.

What the hell is happening?