Prologue: The Fire That Never Fades

1 – The End of the World

The city was burning.

Flames devoured the skyline, their hungry tongues licking the night, turning steel and glass into molten ruin. Explosions shook the earth as buildings collapsed under their own weight, sending shockwaves of dust and fire through the streets. Sirens wailed, a desperate, useless cry drowned beneath the screams of the dying.

Elias Carter stood at the top of the ruined skyscraper, watching it all fall apart.

Smoke curled around him, thick and suffocating, but he didn't move. His white dress shirt was stained with ash and blood, his expensive watch cracked, but he didn't care. The empire he had built with his own hands was gone, and the world he had ruled was nothing more than cinders at his feet.

"All of this... because of me."

The realization came slow, but it hit like a bullet to the chest.

Elias had always known he was ruthless. He had clawed his way to the top, stepping over everyone in his path. Rivals, partners, even those who once called him a friend—he had crushed them all. He had played the game better than anyone, had become untouchable, unstoppable.

But power breeds arrogance. And arrogance breeds disaster.

The war had started with whispers. A financial collapse here, a corporate takeover there. He had ignored the warnings, refused to see the cracks forming beneath his feet. By the time he realized what he had set in motion, it was too late.

Riots. Rebellions. The city turned against itself.

Then came the fire.

A deafening explosion shook the rooftop. Below, the streets were filled with chaos—civilians running, soldiers gunning them down, desperate survivors looting the remains of a world that was already dead.

Elias turned his gaze skyward. The stars were fading, swallowed by the rising smoke.

It was over.

A voice crackled through his earpiece—one of his last remaining lieutenants. "Sir, the evac team is standing by! We have a chopper at—"

Elias ripped the earpiece out.

He didn't deserve to escape.

His fingers tightened around the cold steel of the revolver in his hand.

If he had been given another chance… would he have done things differently?

No.

He had built an empire out of greed, out of power, out of the need to prove that he could rise above everyone else. Even now, even at the end, he knew he would do it all again.

But maybe, just maybe… he could at least choose how it ended.

The fire reflected in his hollow eyes as he raised the gun to his temple.

He closed his eyes.

Pulled the trigger.

And the world went dark.

---

2 – The Awakening

He woke to silence.

No fire. No screams. No pain.

Just… silence.

Elias inhaled sharply, expecting the acrid burn of smoke in his lungs—but the air was crisp and cold. He opened his eyes, and for a moment, he wasn't sure if he was still alive.

He was lying in a vast, open field, the grass beneath him wet with morning dew. The sky above was an endless stretch of gray, unfamiliar constellations blinking in the distance. A soft wind rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine.

This wasn't his world.

Slowly, he sat up. His body felt… different. Lighter. Stronger. He looked down at his hands—gone were the scars of his past life, the callouses from years of toil. His fingers curled experimentally, and a strange warmth pulsed beneath his skin.

A presence stirred at the edge of his consciousness, a whisper just beyond hearing.

"You have been given another chance."

The voice wasn't human. It was something ancient, something vast. It resonated through his bones, not as words, but as a force, a command woven into the fabric of reality itself.

He pushed himself to his feet, his heart hammering. The wind shifted, carrying distant voices—a town, perhaps? Civilization?

He wasn't alone here.

Elias took a step forward—only to stagger as a searing pain lanced through his skull.

A flood of visions—flashes of fire, cities crumbling, corpses piled high under a blood-red sky. He saw himself standing at the center of it all, wreathed in shadows, his hands stained with the destruction of an entire world.

His world.

No—this world.

Elias gasped, clutching his head. The visions faded, but the meaning was clear.

This wasn't just a second chance.

This was a warning.

---

3 – The Mark of the Forsaken

A deep, primal instinct told Elias he was different now. This world was not his, but he was bound to it in a way he did not yet understand.

He started walking.

The path led him to a clearing where a cobbled road cut through the wilderness. A caravan of traders passed by, their wagons creaking under heavy cargo. They glanced at him, wary.

One of them, a grizzled old man with a missing eye, narrowed his gaze. "You… You bear the Mark."

Elias frowned. "What mark?"

The old man pointed.

Elias followed his gaze to his own reflection in a pool of water at the roadside.

A dark sigil burned across his collarbone, inked into his skin like a brand. It pulsed with an eerie glow, shifting between black and crimson.

The Mark of the Forsaken.

Whispers rippled through the caravan. Fear. Distrust.

Elias met their eyes, unflinching. He had seen this before. This was how people looked at a man they believed to be a monster.

And maybe… they weren't wrong.

The old man spat to the side. "You'll bring ruin to this land."

Elias exhaled slowly. Maybe I will.

But not yet.

Not until he understood why he was here.

Not until he decided whether this time, he would let the world burn—or if he would fight to save it.

For the first time in his life, Elias had a choice.

And he intended to use it.

---

End of Prologue.

---

What Comes Next?

The story will follow Elias as he navigates this world of magic, politics, and war. He will face opposition from those who fear the Mark of the Forsaken, and he will be forced to confront whether he is truly meant to destroy or rebuild.

His past sins haunt him. His new power tempts him. And the world watches, waiting for him to decide:

Will he let the world burn again?

Or will he rise from the ashes?