Aaron sat up slowly, his head pounding and his vision blurry. The last thing he remembered was feeling weak and blacking out. Now, he found himself in a desolate grey wasteland, surrounded by nothing but dirt as far as the eye could see. There was not a sound to be heard, nor a sign of life in sight.

In the distance, a menacing black throne stood out against the monotone landscape. As Aaron approached it warily, he saw that a wisp of black smoke sat atop the throne. The smoke seemed to have a barely-substantial form, resembling a weak foxfire.

"This isn't a dream," came a voice from the smoke.

Aaron froze in place, unsure of what to make of this strange manifestation. "What isn't a dream?" he asked tentatively.

"This," the smoke replied, gesturing to the ground beneath Aaron's feet and the sky above. "And certainly not me."

Not convinced in the slightest, Aaron took a few steps back and adopted a defensive stance. "What are you?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

"That's not important right now," the smoke snapped, clearly losing patience. "We don't have much time, so listen carefully. Beware the one-eyed-king. Do not trust the shadows for now - they will be your domain eventually, but they are treacherous marshland at the moment. Help the golden one; he will become your staunchest ally. Above all, believe in yourself. We shall meet again at your first trial. Goodbye, for now."

Confused and overwhelmed by the strange warning, Aaron tried to commit the smoke's words to memory. Before he could fully process what had just happened, the grey wasteland began to dissolve around him. Aaron felt himself fading out of existence in that place, and then he was back on the ground, with Zeva and Arjun looking down at him worriedly.

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"Well, at least she was alive," Aaron thought to himself, still trying to make sense of the surreal vision he had just experienced. He had no idea what any of it meant or what his role in this strange world might be, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the wisp of smoke had been trying to offer him guidance or warning. Aaron resolved to keep the strange entity's words in mind and to be cautious as he navigated this unfamiliar terrain.

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Aaron had always struggled to fit in. Born into a family with emotionally distant parents, he had always felt isolated and misunderstood. As a child, he was diagnosed with autism, which made it difficult for him to connect with others and left him feeling even more isolated. As he grew older, Aaron developed an anxiety disorder that further hindered his ability to interact with his peers. He never expected to be treated well in life, and unfortunately, things didn't seem to be any different in this new place he found himself in.

Aaron was now in a cell, confined to a small, cramped space. He had no idea how this tent, which seemed to be barely holding itself together, was able to function as a prison. "Magic," he muttered to himself. "Hurray." This was Aaron's second day in this strange place, and he was beginning to feel anxious and restless.

After the massive shadow invasion, the army had suffered heavy casualties. But Aaron had to give credit where credit was due - the cleanup had been swift and efficient. The dead had been collected and properly identified, and a cemetery had been built in the grassy fields. What could be salvaged was salvaged, and the ground magic dudes (as Aaron called them) had started building a new, more secure encampment with higher walls and glowing orbs lights everywhere. There were no shadows to be seen now, and Aaron had expected the army to make a move and leave this place behind. But for some reason, they were still stationed there, and Aaron was left in his cell, waiting anxiously for any developments.

By the end of the second day, Arjun, the kind but genocidal scholar, paid Aaron a visit. He opened the cell door and beckoned Aaron to come with him. Steeling himself, Aaron followed behind, unsure of what to expect.