Season 1 - Chapter 3: Echoes in the Dark

The world outside Elias' penthouse was drenched in morning gold, but inside, the curtains were drawn tight. Silence reigned.He hadn't left his bed all day.His head felt like it had been caved in with a sledgehammer, a dull throb pulsing just behind his right eye. Dreams—no, nightmares—had kept him tossing all night. They weren't just dreams, though. They were too real. Too vivid.Names he didn't know. Places he'd never been. Blood. Combat. Cold hands gripping a blade.His alarm blared at noon. He turned it off with a groan, dragging himself up and stumbling toward the bathroom.A splash of cold water. A look in the mirror.But the face staring back wasn't quite... his.There was something colder in his eyes. Like something ancient had crept into him overnight.—Henry served breakfast like nothing had changed."Board rescheduled to tomorrow. Ms. Cartier called—twice."Elias poked at the eggs. "I'm not hungry."Henry gave him a long look. "Sir?""I had a dream. Or a breakdown. I don't know."Henry tilted his head, just slightly. "About what?""I don't remember." A lie. He remembered everything—but it felt impossible. Foreign. Insane.Henry gave a calm nod, hiding the flicker of concern in his eyes."Perhaps some air will help."—That night, Elias couldn't sleep.He took a walk. Through the city. No destination. Just motion. Lights blurred. Sounds faded. He walked until the streets emptied. Until the skyline became unfamiliar.And then—Darkness.A blinding pulse. His knees buckled. His lungs froze. The world snapped.He fell.—When Elias opened his eyes, everything had changed.He was lying on cold concrete, surrounded by silence and rot. Rusted metal beams. Bloodstains on the floor. Shattered glass above. It looked like an old warehouse. One he'd never seen before—but knew instantly.He staggered to his feet.And then it came.A flood.A torrent of memories.Not dreams. Not stories. Memories.Combat drills. Gunfire. Knives. Secrets. Missions.The Obsidian Order.The oath.The betrayal.His muscles ached from phantom injuries. His breathing synced with training he'd never done. His fingers twitched like they knew where every artery in a man's body ran.He clutched his head and screamed."Who am I?"The warehouse echoed.But a voice in the back of his mind answered."You are Silas."