I woke to the sound of crackling firewood and the distant echo of wind. My eyelids felt heavy, like they were weighed down with stones. I forced them open, blinking against the dim light that flickered across a rough, cave-like wall. My body ached, my muscles stiff and sore.

For a moment, I couldn’t remember where I was. The air smelled of smoke and something metallic—blood. I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my side, and I winced, collapsing back onto the cold stone beneath me.

What happened?

My mind was a blur, flashes of broken memories swimming to the surface—the village, the monsters, their twisted forms closing in around me. I’d been helpless. Alone. But I wasn’t dead. Somehow, I’d survived.

I forced myself to sit up, biting back the pain. The room swayed for a moment, but I steadied myself. A fire crackled nearby, illuminating a small cave, its walls jagged and damp. I wasn’t alone.

Across from me, sitting near the fire, was a figure cloaked in shadow. His hood was drawn low, hiding most of his face, but I could see the glint of steel at his side—a sword resting within easy reach.

I tensed, my heart pounding in my chest. Who was he? Was he one of them? Was he—

“You’re awake.”

The voice was calm, the same voice I’d heard just before everything went black. It was him—the one who had saved me from the monsters.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “Who… who are you?”

The man turned his head slightly, the light from the fire flickering across his face. His features were sharp, though shadowed, his eyes cold and calculating. “You’re safe. For now.”

Safe. The word felt hollow. Nothing about this situation felt safe. My village was gone. Everything was gone. My parents, my home… reduced to ash.

I felt my chest tighten, the weight of the truth crashing down on me all at once. I clenched my fists, trying to push back the wave of emotion rising in my throat. “My village… what happened?” I managed to choke out, my voice barely a whisper.

The man was silent for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he spoke, his voice low. “Monsters attacked. You were the only survivor.”

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Monsters. The word sent a shiver down my spine. I could still see them in my mind—those twisted, rotting things, their hollow eyes and putrid stench. My hands trembled as I remembered the way they loomed over me, like death itself creeping forward, inevitable and unrelenting.

“I should have been there,” I muttered, my voice breaking. “If I hadn’t left… maybe…”

The man didn’t respond. He watched me in silence, his expression unchanged. I could feel his eyes on me, cold and analytical, as though he was sizing me up, deciding whether or not I was worth keeping alive.

I looked down at my hands, covered in dirt and ash, and for the first time since waking up, the tears finally came. I pressed my fists to my eyes, trying to hold them back, but it was no use. I was broken.

The silence between us stretched on, thick and heavy. The crackle of the fire was the only sound, and it felt like the world was closing in on me, drowning me in my own grief.

After what felt like an eternity, the man spoke again, his tone quieter, almost thoughtful. “You’re alive for a reason.”

I looked up, confused. “What do you mean?”

He stood, his movements fluid and precise, like a predator. He stepped closer to me, and for the first time, I could see the sharpness in his eyes—eyes that seemed far too old for his face. There was power in him, something dangerous, but controlled.

“I saved you because there’s something you need to know,” he said, his voice still calm but laced with something darker. “What you saw today—the monsters, the destruction—that’s only the beginning.”

I blinked, trying to make sense of his words. “What do you mean, the beginning?”

The man—my savior—turned away, pacing slowly near the edge of the cave, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. “There’s more at work in this world than you realize. More than what you saw in your village.”

My mind was spinning, trying to keep up with him. “You know who did this? You know why they attacked?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stared into the distance, as though weighing his next words carefully. “They were sent by someone. Someone with power. Someone who doesn’t care about the lives of people like you or your village.”

My stomach twisted. “Who?”

For the first time, the man hesitated. “You’re not ready to know that yet.”

Anger flared in my chest, cutting through the numbness. “Not ready? They killed my family! They destroyed everything I had! I deserve to know who did this!”

He turned to face me again, his expression hard. “And what would you do with that knowledge? You’re not strong enough to face them. Not yet.”

I gritted my teeth, frustration and rage swirling inside me. He was right. I wasn’t strong. I couldn’t even protect my own family. But that didn’t make the pain any less real. It didn’t make me want vengeance any less.

“So what now?” I asked, my voice raw. “What am I supposed to do?”

The man studied me for a long moment, as though deciding something. Then, finally, he spoke. “You learn. You train. You grow stronger. And when the time comes, you get your answers.”

His words hung in the air between us, heavy with promise. I didn’t know what to make of him, or of anything that had happened. All I knew was that my life—everything I had known—was gone. And the only thing left was the path ahead.

“Who are you?” I asked again, my voice quieter this time.

The man turned, his face still hidden by the shadows. “Raphael.”