Darkness—crushing, suffocating darkness. Then, a spark—a flicker of consciousness igniting in the void.

Where? What?

Fragmented thoughts, like shattered glass, pierced her mind, sharp and disjointed. A stage... lights... the roar of a crowd... then nothing.

Her body felt heavy, sluggish—as though she'd been asleep for years. She blinked, but there was no difference—the darkness remained. Memories swam through her foggy mind, but they made no sense. A name. Aubrey. That was her, she realized. But who?

She moved her arms, pushing against the weight of something. Her fingers scraped against something hard—wood. Her legs kicked, and she felt the same resistance.

Panic surged within her. Was she in a box? A coffin?

Her chest heaved, a desperate gasp for air that wasn't there. Her hands flew to her mouth, trying to block the scream building in her throat. Her fingers scraped against soft satin—a shroud, she realized. She pulled it away, tearing at it in a blind panic.

Air. She needed air. Her lungs burned, her vision blurred, and she lashed out wildly. Splinters tore at her skin as she pounded against the wood with her fists.

Cracking, snapping—sounds of wood giving way. With one final, desperate thrust, she broke through, splintering into the oppressive earth above.

Dirt cascaded in, choking and cloying.

She coughed, sputtering, but continued to claw her way up—to where, she didn't know. Anywhere had to be better than here. She writhed, struggling through the narrow opening she'd created.

Can't... breathe... need to get out!

The earth clawed back, greedy fingers trying to drag her down. But the burning in her lungs, the raw need for air, drove her on.

Gasping—clawing—the earth gave way under desperate fingers which bled, unseen in the blackness, but she pressed on. The taste of dirt filled her mouth, gritty and bitter, as she scrabbled through the soil.

Something brushed against her—a root, maybe, or a worm. She shrieked, the sound muffled by the dirt clogging her mouth, and kept going.

Cold, damp soil yielded under her frantic hands, and then—her hand broke through the surface, grasping at the cool night air.

She heaved herself up, clawing desperately, until her head emerged from the grave.

The sweet, clear air of night washed over her face, and she gasped, sucking in huge, ragged breaths.

She stumbled out of the dirt, her movements clumsy, her body feeling foreign and unwieldy.

The moon cast a ghostly pallor over the graveyard, its light filtering through the gnarled branches of misshapen trees, casting eerie shadows that danced upon the rows of ornate tombstones.

Why was I... in a grave? How did I...?

Disorientation and confusion swirled in her mind. A rush of sensations hit her all at once—the touch of the wind against her skin, the smell of the earth, the rustle of leaves in the trees.

Her legs trembled, buckling under her weight, and she sank to the ground, her head spinning.

Lying on the cold earth, her breathing slowly returned to normal, but the panic had yet to subside. She lay still, waiting for her racing heart to slow, taking in deep lungfuls of fresh air. Gradually, awareness trickled back in, and her gaze shifted to take in her surroundings.

A cemetery loomed around her, a silent witness to her macabre rebirth. An ornate mausoleum stood nearby, its crumbling façade blanketed with dark moss. Ivy snaked up the walls, twining around the marble columns, choking the life from the stone.

An owl hooted somewhere nearby, a lonely sound.

Why am I here? How did I get here?

She struggled to put the pieces together, but it was as if her memory was shrouded in fog. Names and images flickered in her mind, but nothing that made sense. Her hands shook, scattering clods of dirt as she ran them over her face and through her hair. The clumps fell to the ground, raining into the hole she'd just escaped.

As the terror receded, clarity slowly returned, and her body began to feel more familiar. She raised a hand before her eyes, watching as she flexed her fingers, almost as if to reassure herself that they belonged to her.

Yes. They were her own, though her skin seemed paler somehow, devoid of warmth. Her nails, long and sharp, glinted in the moonlight.

Tentatively, she rose to her feet, testing her strength. It took a few steps to find her balance, but she managed to stay upright.

Her clothes, tattered and dirty, hung loosely on her slender frame. She glanced down, noticing for the first time the sheer, lacy gown she wore—and her exposed flesh.

An involuntary shiver ran through her, and she instinctively covered her breasts with her arms. I'm practically naked. She gazed down at the torn, soiled garment. Is this supposed to be a burial gown?

The thought made her stomach twist. Had someone tried to bury her alive?

No.

Memories of a distant life—a stage, the roar of a crowd, flickered like a distant dream. But intermingled with those were flashes of another existence, a life of quiet affluence—the flash of jewels and crystal glasses, the whisper of silk and satin.

She looked around for her tombstone, but found none. No flowers adorned her grave; no marker bore her name.

Just an empty plot, marked only by upturned earth.

She ran her fingers through her hair, raking out the twigs and dirt that had caught in its long black strands.

Aubrey. The name came to her lips easily, as if she'd always known it. A name given by loving parents—yet no faces came to mind when she tried to think of them.

But one thing was certain—she wasn't the sort of woman who would ever end up in a place like this.

She took a step, then another, picking her way through the tombstones and markers. The graves lay in uneven rows, some marked by simple headstones, others by grand monuments of angels and weeping figures, their features worn smooth with age.

The path wound between them, bordered by overgrown bushes and creeping ivy that clung to the old, weathered stones.

Where am I supposed to go?

She had no idea. The thought of wandering these winding paths, alone, in the dark...

Her heart ached with an inexplicable sorrow, a mourning for a life she couldn't fully remember.

Why do I feel so... empty? So... angry?

Anger... yes. It simmered beneath the confusion—a smoldering ember that threatened to flare into a blaze. But anger at what—or whom?

Flashes of violence, a betrayal, a searing pain... a dagger... all rushed back in a sudden torrent. She reached down to her abdomen and her fingertips brushed against the thin scar there, almost hidden by the lace of the dress. The mark of the blade.

A killer.

I was killed... murdered... But by whom?

Four faces slipped through her mind like shadows, murky and indistinct. Only one face came into focus—one that sent a surge of rage rushing through her. The twisted visage of a man, his eyes cold and unfeeling, yet his mouth contorted into a cruel smile.

She knew him—somehow, someway. She hated him.

Revenge. That singular emotion burned bright, piercing through the cloud of confusion that hung over her.

She grasped her head, digging her nails into her scalp. No, this isn't right...this... this isn't me! What the hell happened to me?!

The stage... the music... the adoring crowds... her voice, rising in song... that was her life! That’s who she was...

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Aubrey clenched her fists, squeezing her eyes shut, willing her memories to return. But only fragments came: the crowd cheering, the guitar strings under her fingertips, the feel of the microphone in her hand, the heat of the stage lights... and the exhilaration of performing, the thrill of connecting with an audience on such an intimate level.

Yet, intermingled with these precious moments... blood, flowing between her fingers, hot and sticky; a blade slicing into flesh, bone crunching; screams and cries of terror ringing in her ears.

Two lives, two voices, one soul... merged into a single, fractured person.

Aubrey threw back her head and screamed, her voice echoing through the night like the cry of a wounded beast, shattering the silence of the graveyard.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving streaks of mud on her pale skin. Her hair whipped around her head, tangled and unruly like a dark halo.

Her voice tore through the air—a primordial wail that rattled the bones of the dead. Trees bent and swayed, their branches twisting and cracking, as if in agony. Leaves ripped free, swirling in violent eddies around her. Gravestones quivered, and tombstones split and crumbled.

As her scream tapered off, the graveyard fell deathly still once more. The echoes of her grief lingered in the air, fading to a murmur.

Aubrey sank to her knees, gasping and trembling. The anger had fled, leaving behind only emptiness and exhaustion. Her gaze swept across the devastation around her—the broken tombstones, the disturbed graves, the upended plants and flowers.

That... wasn't normal. But then again, so was everything that she just went through.

How did I do that?

The question whispered through her mind, hanging in the air like a forgotten word. Her voice... something was different about it. A resonance, an echo... it carried a power she'd never felt before.

She touched her throat, trying to understand. She hadn't just yelled or shouted—something had happened when she screamed. It was like... music.

Yes, that's what it was: a note, a pure, undulating tone...

A shimmering light appeared, hovering in front of her face, interrupting her thoughts. With a gentle pulse, the light coalesced into a transparent, holographic screen, with text scrolling across its surface.

[System Message]

[Congratulations! You have survived the perils of your awakening!]

[Name: Aubrey]

[Race: Revenant (formerly human)]

[Variant: Banshee]

[Rank: Prelude]

[Attributes: Grade]

[Tempo: E]

[Dynamics: C]

[Timbre: D]

[Pitch: C]

[Harmony: F]

[Resonance: E]

[Cadence: D]

[Riff: F]

[You have 4 unspent Talent Points]

[Notes: Please work on increasing your attributes in order to unlock further progression and abilities.]

Aubrey stared at the screen, dumbfounded. What is this? Is this real? It felt like a dream, yet somehow more vivid, more intense. The words glowed faintly, pulsing with a steady beat, like a heartbeat.

A sudden realization flashed through her mind—she was different. Banshee? Revenant? None of those names brought any clarity; They only increased the sense of surreality surrounding her.

She touched her chest—firm, supple skin, the outline of ribs, a rhythmic pulse beneath her fingertips. The sensations anchored her, reminded her she existed in a tangible reality, not just a dreamscape.

Revenant.

A reaper.

A harbinger of death.

Someone who brought calamity wherever they went. The label felt wrong—too heavy, too much. Like a suffocating burden bearing down on her. Her confusion grew as the reality of her situation sunk in.

I'm... a monster?

Her hair draped across her face, and she absently brushed it aside. Dark, silken strands...with streaks of red? Since when did that happen? Aubrey sighed in frustration as she untangled the messy locks, scowling as she removed the twigs and dried leaves.

Sharp gusts of wind whistled through the trees, carrying a chill that penetrated her thin garments. She shivered, hugging her arms close to her chest, then noticed more changes in her appearance. Pale, white skin, the texture of velvet—not even a hint of a freckle or blemish.

She frowned, touching her cheek, feeling its smooth, creamy texture. Had she always looked like this? And her nails—long and sharp, more like claws than anything else. Not the well-groomed and polished nails she remembered having.

Maybe it's a side-effect of...whatever happened to me.

No. That wasn't true. It went deeper than that. In a way she couldn't explain, she felt as if her entire body had been altered—almost as if it weren't hers.

Another system message blinked at the corner of her vision. She focused her attention on it, and the text became more visible and legible.

[New Quest: Discover Your New Powers!]

[You've awakened as a new race and class. Explore your new capabilities and discover how you can use them to achieve your goals!]

[Objective: Unlock and rank up each of your new attributes, and learn new skills and abilities!]

[Reward: ???]

Quest... powers... attributes... It was getting harder and harder to convince herself that this wasn't a dream. But it felt too real to be one, and she had no idea if she should dismiss it as insanity either. What on earth is happening to me?

Aubrey leaned against a large gravestone, rubbing her temples, trying to make sense of everything.

Some of it... made sense, somehow, though she struggled to pinpoint why. Music... her singing... that part felt right. But this System—what was it? And where did it come from?

She closed her eyes, letting her body relax and her mind wander. Memories and feelings trickled in—music notes, lyrics, rhythms...they played in her mind, accompanied by melodies only she could hear.

In those songs, she sensed the answer to her questions, but she couldn't articulate it in words. Instead, a feeling of assurance settled over her. As if she were in the presence of an old friend, offering support and guidance.

Was it the System itself? No, that didn't seem right... it felt more like... her own inner strength. That her subconscious somehow understood and accepted what had transpired, while her conscious mind was still reeling.

With a long sigh, Aubrey opened her eyes, then nodded toward the screen hovering before her. "I'm listening."

[System Message: Attributes]

[Your attributes will shape who you become.]

[They describe aspects of yourself: your identity, personality, and role. Attributes define how the System sees you, and as they grow, your capabilities will evolve to match them.]

[Do you wish to know more about your attributes?]

Aubrey mulled it over a moment. "Yeah, tell me."

The screen rippled, responding to her mental query.

[Tempo: (E): Tempo measures the speed and rhythm at which you can act, affecting reaction times, movement speed, and the rate of skill execution.]

[Dynamics: (C): Dynamics governs the intensity and force behind your actions, influencing the power of attacks, the strength of defenses, and the potency of abilities.]

[Timbre: (D): Timbre refers to the color, quality, and uniqueness of your abilities, affecting how skills interact with different environments or targets.]

[Pitch: (C): Pitch determines the range and reach of your abilities, determining the physical and auditory range of skills.]

[Harmony: (F): Harmony reflects your ability to synchronize with both allies and the environment, enhancing cooperative efforts and environmental interactions.]

[Resonance: (E): Resonance measures your ability to amplify your actions and those of others through the power of rhythm, essentially enhancing the 'volume' and impact of actions.]

[Cadence: (D): Cadence represents your ability to maintain and manipulate the flow of actions and reactions, controlling the pace of encounters.]

[Riff: (F): Riff embodies your ability to introduce variability and improvisation into your actions, making your movements and decisions less predictable and more adaptable.]

Aubrey chewed on her lip, scrutinizing the information. These terms were familiar to her, though the context was foreign. There was music in these words... though she still couldn't quite grasp how it all related to her.

She scrolled through the attributes again, trying to find an explanation for the letters attached to them.

"What do the letter grades mean?" she asked. "Are they good or bad?"

The screen wavered, its edges blurring slightly as a new prompt appeared.

[Grades are an assessment of capability: F for low, E for average, D for above-average, C for high, B for very high, A for exceptional, S for preeminent, SS for peerless, and SSS for supreme.]

Aubrey scanned the screen again, raising an eyebrow at the "peerless" and "supreme." That seemed a bit much, even for a world that was obviously more than the regular kind she'd known. She chuckled ruefully at herself as she considered that she'd probably consider SSS an overestimation of her own capabilities back in her original world as well.

"So, my attributes determine how powerful I'll become?" Aubrey contemplated what she'd learned so far, still puzzled. "Well, I'm not exactly a fighter..."

She was a musician. At least, that's how she felt, deep down. But her lack of solid memories, the jumble of conflicting experiences, made it difficult to know where that impulse came from. Still...her fingers itched to hold an instrument—to strum chords, pluck strings, and caress keys. It was an instinctual compulsion that defied her memories...but resonated with her emotions.

A slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I bet I can really belt out a tune now," she murmured. "I wonder if I could hit a mean falsetto if I wanted to?"

She started to hum, softly at first, but then her voice rose, weaving a haunting melody in the night air. She let the music carry her away, ignoring the oddity of the world around her. For a brief moment, it was as if nothing else mattered.

As if on cue, her voice swelled into a crescendo, then stopped. The world paused along with the music—for just a moment, the rustling of leaves stilled, and the moon hung motionless in the sky.

And then it continued—as if nothing had changed.

Aubrey furrowed her brow, frowning. Did... did I just imagine that?

"What was that?" she gasped, her voice catching in her throat. The world seemed to tremble for just a second—but perhaps it was just her imagination.

What... did I just do?

She stared at the screen, waiting for answers, but none came. Another gust of wind rushed through the trees, sending dry leaves swirling around her, and she shuddered, rubbing her arms to fend off the cold.

"Right, now's not the time to stand around thinking. I need to figure out what to do next." Aubrey ran a hand through her tangled hair. "First things first—clothes. Can't really wander around dressed in this..." She wrinkled her nose at the ragged state of her attire, and then grimaced at the dirt still clinging to her arms and legs. "And a bath—that too."

Cleaning herself up would hopefully help clear her mind, too—help her see the situation with fresh eyes and a calm head.

The clank of metal and hushed voices snapped Aubrey's attention away from the floating screen.

She whirled towards the sounds.

In the moonlit gloom, figures emerged from across the cemetery—four men, clad in mismatched garb of black coats and pants, the glint of steel at their belts. One of the men carried a lantern, its faint yellow glow casting a dim pool of light as they trudged through the rows of tombstones. The others bore shovels and sacks, slung over their shoulders.

Are they... graverobbers?