The wind outside howled, carrying a low, distant roar that echoed in the night. A soft breeze brushed Rayan’s face, stirring something deep inside him. His eyelids twitched but refused to open. He felt trapped somewhere between sleep and waking, floating in a strange, hazy space. Memories flickered through his mind—his mother’s gentle voice, his sister’s laughter, the familiar routine of school. But suddenly, those memories were gone, replaced by something dark and terrifying.

A deep, haunting sound echoed in his ears. It felt close and far away, ‌making his skin prickle. His heart raced as he tried to pull himself out of the dream. Then he saw it—a figure. Huge, shadowy, and looming over him. Its eyes burned like embers. It was reaching for him.

Rayan gasped, and his eyes snapped open.

Blinking, he tried to make sense of his surroundings. Bright light flooded the room, making him squint. His head throbbed painfully, and everything looked blurry for a moment. As his vision cleared, he saw the room he was in. It was filled with rich, expensive-looking furniture—thick rugs, carved wood, and luxurious drapes. It looked far too fancy for someone like him. Nothing here made sense.

He tried to sit up, but his body felt heavy, like he hadn’t moved in a long time. His muscles ached with every movement. A sudden sharp pain cut through his head, and in his mind flashed an image—the same towering figure, its fiery eyes staring into him.

Breathing heavily, Rayan pressed his hands to his temples. Was he still dreaming? Was any of this real?

Before he could get his bearings, a voice spoke from across the room.

"Did you sleep well?" the voice asked.

Rayan looked up sharply, startled by the sound. A man stood near the doorway. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and strong-looking, with a rough face framed by a short mustache and a thick beard. Despite his age, there was something sharp and intense about him, like nothing escaped his notice.

Rayan stared at him, blinking in confusion. His mind was spinning. The man’s calm question felt out of place.

"Who… who are you?" Rayan asked, his voice shaky. "Where am I?"

The man’s blue eyes met Rayan’s steadily. His voice was calm, but there was a roughness to it, like stone scraping against stone. "I am David," he said. "A priest from the world of Neru. And you, Rayan, are one of our warriors."

Rayan blinked again, trying to make sense of the words. Neru? Warriors? It didn’t make any sense. The man might as well have been speaking a different language.

"Neru?" Rayan repeated, his brow furrowing.

David nodded slightly, as if this was all very normal. "Yes. Neru."

Rayan gave a short, humorless laugh, disbelief flooding his voice. "Right. And I’m from Earth." His tone dripped with sarcasm as he pushed himself up from the bed. His legs wobbled slightly, but he stood, his frustration building. "I don’t have time for this. I need to get home. My mother’s probably worried sick."

David remained still, his eyes never leaving Rayan. There was no anger or impatience in his expression. Just calm.

"Rayan, think. What do you remember from before?" David asked.

Rayan opened his mouth to respond, but then paused. What did he remember? He tried to think, but the memories were blurry. There were flashes—his mother’s face, his sister, the hallways of his school—but they felt distant, like they belonged to someone else. Everything was fuzzy, like pieces of a dream he couldn’t fully remember.

He frowned, rubbing his forehead. "I… I don’t know," he finally said, his voice small and unsure.

"You were in a simulation," David said matter-of-factly, stepping closer. "All warriors must go through one. You lived the life of a boy who lost his father. You felt the emotions of family, friendship, and love. But it wasn’t real. The simulation is over. You’ve returned to fulfill your true destiny—as a warrior for Neru."

Rayan’s heart pounded in his chest. A simulation? His life—his mother, his sister, everything he thought he knew—wasn't real? The room seemed to spin for a moment, and he stumbled back onto the edge of the bed, his legs weak beneath him.

"No," he muttered, shaking his head. "No, that’s impossible."

David didn’t react. He just watched Rayan, giving him space to process the information. His expression was calm, as though he had seen this kind of reaction many times before.

"But..." he began, his voice shaky. "It felt real."

"It always does," David replied, his expression unchanging.

Rayan pushed himself off the bed, needing to move, needing air. His legs were unsteady, but he forced himself toward the window. He threw it open, stepping out onto a small balcony. David followed quietly, saying nothing as Rayan took in the sight before him.

And what a sight it was.

The landscape stretched out endlessly, breathtaking in its beauty. The hills were scattered with traditional wooden houses that blended effortlessly with sleek, futuristic buildings. In the sky, people soared through the air on strange, horse-like creatures, gliding as if carried by invisible winds. Some creatures were small and delicate, while others were massive, their wings casting shadows over the land.

Rayan’s breath caught in his throat. The world before him was both ancient and advanced, like nothing he had ever seen. His mind raced, trying to take it all in.

"What... what is this place?" he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

"This is Neru," David replied, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Your new home."

Rayan couldn’t tear his gaze away. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of awe and disbelief filling him. He watched as a flying bus zoomed past, its reflection catching in the glass of a nearby building. Instinctively, he glanced at his own reflection—and froze.

The face staring back at him was unfamiliar. His hair, once brown and unremarkable, was now black. His build, once lean and weak, was muscular and strong.

"What happened to me?" Rayan asked, his hand touching his reflection as if to confirm it was real. "I remember being... different. I was weak."

David finally looked at him, though his gaze remained steady. "Your body was designed for the simulation. It had to match the role you were playing. But this—" he gestured to Rayan's reflection, "—this is who you truly are."

Rayan's fingers curled into his palm as he stared at his own face. It still felt like someone else. He turned back to David, but the man was already walking away.

"Come," David called over his shoulder. "There’s more you need to see."

They walked down the street; the path lined with polished stone and greenery. The air was fresh, and everything seemed so clean, so perfect. But Rayan’s mind buzzed with questions. He glanced around, watching people drift by on their creatures or walk alongside animals that seemed part of them. Each person moved with purpose, and yet none of it made sense to him.

As they strolled, a thought gnawed at him. "What is a warrior, exactly?" he asked, his voice low but filled with growing urgency. "What’s our purpose?"

David didn’t slow down. He simply gave a small, cryptic smile and continued walking. His silence only made Rayan more frustrated. He wanted answers, not mysteries.

As they passed through the streets, Rayan’s gaze was constantly drawn upward, where creatures of all shapes and sizes flew overhead. Some were monstrous, with scales and claws, while others were graceful and smooth, like something out of a dream. Rayan couldn’t help but marvel at them. The strangeness of this world tugged at something deep inside him, part fear, part wonder.

"David," he asked again, his voice firmer now. "What are these creatures? How can they fly like that?"

But once again, David gave no reply. He simply made a sound—a barely audible hum. Within seconds, something enormous stirred the air. Rayan’s eyes widened as a massive, dragon-like bird swooped down from the sky, its wings as wide as the street itself. It landed gracefully beside them, its feathers gleaming in the sunlight.

Startled, Rayan instinctively took a step back, his heart racing. The creature was both beautiful and terrifying, its presence commanding attention. Its wings stretched wide before folding neatly at its sides, its golden eyes locking onto Rayan.

David stepped forward, resting a hand on the creature's neck. "Her name is Seraphine. She’s gentle. Don’t worry."

Rayan hesitated, staring at the creature in awe. Slowly, cautiously, he reached out and touched Seraphine’s head. Her feathers were soft, warm. She lowered her head slightly, responding to his touch. A small smile crept onto Rayan’s face, though he wasn’t sure why. For a moment, everything else faded—the confusion, the questions, the fear.

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David climbed onto Seraphine’s back and held out a hand. "Come. There’s more to see."

Rayan swallowed hard, but nodded. He reached for David’s hand and, with a bit of effort, climbed onto the creature's back. His heart pounded as Seraphine’s wings unfurled once more, lifting them smoothly into the air.

As they soared higher, the world of Neru unfolded beneath them in all its beauty. Icy mountains rose in the distance, while vast stretches of green fields and shimmering lakes spread out as far as the eye could see. The wind whipped through Rayan’s hair, and though he had never been fond of heights, the view below was so mesmerizing that he couldn’t focus on anything but the beauty surrounding him.

For the first time since waking up, a strange sense of peace washed over him.

They landed before a massive building made of stone and wood. As Rayan dismounted Seraphine, he was still reeling from the flight over the fantastical landscape. His heart pounded—not from the heights, but from the overwhelming sense of displacement. He was from Earth, wasn’t he? But nothing made sense anymore.

Rayan stood awkwardly in the large hall, surrounded by unfamiliar faces. The air buzzed with activity—young men and women moved purposefully through the space, some talking in small groups, others practicing what looked like strange abilities he couldn’t quite comprehend. Everything about this place felt foreign, and the weight of his own confusion pressed heavily on him.

He wasn’t sure what to do next. David had introduced him to the group briefly before stepping away, leaving him feeling lost among these strangers. Rayan’s eyes scanned the room, landing on a boy around his age with striking blue eyes, who was standing off to the side. The boy seemed to notice him too, and after a moment’s hesitation, approached.

"Hey," the boy said, offering a small, cautious smile. "You must be new."

Rayan nodded, feeling a bit relieved to have someone talk to him. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I’m Rayan."

"Kevin," the boy replied, shaking his hand. His grip was firm but friendly, though Rayan could sense a hint of curiosity behind his eyes. "So… where are you from?"

The question took Rayan by surprise, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to answer. Where was he from? Earth? The simulation? He wasn’t even sure what was real anymore.

"I… don’t really know," Rayan said, his voice trailing off. He could feel Kevin’s gaze lingering on him, but to his relief, Kevin didn’t push further.

"That’s alright," Kevin said, leaning against the wall. "Most people feel a bit out of place when they first get here. It’s a lot to take in."

Rayan glanced around the room once more, his eyes sweeping over the unfamiliar symbols and strange figures carved into the walls. "Yeah, no kidding. Everything here feels... different."

Kevin chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. "You’re not wrong. It’s a lot to take in at first. But once you get the hang of it, things start to make more sense. It’s not as overwhelming as it seems—once you understand how things work."

Rayan felt a glimmer of hope stir in his chest. Kevin always seemed to have a better grip on things, and maybe, just maybe, he could explain the questions that had been gnawing at him since he’d arrived. He hesitated for a heartbeat, then asked, "Why does everyone look so... different?"

Kevin gave him a sideways glance, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as if gauging how much to say. "It’s in the blood," he began, his voice low but steady. "Each of us belongs to one of the four tribes. We inherit traits from our ancestors—physical and, sometimes, more than that." His gaze turned distant for a moment, as though recalling something buried in history. "Darkthorn, StoneBark, IronLeaf, Nightwing. Every tribe has its own strengths, its own purpose in this world."

Rayan leaned in slightly, intrigued by the weight in Kevin’s words. "So... each group is made up of families within the tribes?"

Kevin nodded, his tone becoming more animated. "Exactly. There are countless families within each tribe. That's why we’re here—to train and serve the tribe we were born into. Our bloodlines guide our destinies."

Kevin paused, a small smile crossing his face as he continued. "I belong to Darkthorn, obviously. You can tell by my eyes." He tapped the corner of his eye, where a striking blue hue seemed to shimmer in the dim light. "That’s the mark of Darkthorn. Sometimes, though, things mix. I’ve heard of StoneBarkers born into Darkthorn families—rare, but it happens when someone marries outside their tribe."

Rayan tried to absorb it all, the connections forming in his mind like the roots of an ancient tree. It explained why the people here looked so distinct, with their sharp, unique features and colors. Yet something still gnawed at him, a question that tugged at the edges of his thoughts.

He hesitated, feeling a weight settle in his chest. "What about me? What tribe do I belong to?"

Kevin’s expression shifted—subtle, but enough for Rayan to notice the flicker of uncertainty. Kevin’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was softer, edged with discomfort. "I... don’t know." He shook his head, almost apologetically. "Your eyes—they don’t match any of the tribes I know. Maybe you’re a replicant. Maybe... something else."

A chill ran down Rayan’s spine at Kevin’s words. `Replicant`. The idea lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken possibilities. What did that mean for him? And what was this place, really?

Before Rayan could ask more, Kevin led him to a large hall where others gathered. His eyes wandered, noticing the variations in people’s appearance—their eye color, the way they moved, the faint glow of something magical that clung to them.

"Replicant?" Rayan pressed.

Kevin’s expression turned grim. "There are rumors about people like you. Clones... genetically modified. But most don’t survive."

Rayan’s heart sank. "Clones? What are you talking about?"

"They say that only the Replicants can have black eye like yours. But even then, the black-eyed ones are rare. Some believe they’re mistakes—products of experiments gone wrong." Kevin’s voice dropped, as if uttering forbidden knowledge.

The words hit Rayan like a punch to the gut. "A mistake?" He was starting to feel more like a glitch in the system than a person.

As the other recruits were being led away to different buildings, their bright eyes colors glowing under the sunlight, Rayan found himself lingering behind. His stomach churned with unease. He couldn’t help but notice that those with black eye, like him, were all being grouped together, separated from the others. Their presence seemed to draw uneasy glances from the rest, as if they didn’t belong.

Kevin, who had been friendly enough moments ago, now stood with his Darkthorn clan mates, talking in low voices. They occasionally glanced in Rayan’s direction, but the warmth from earlier had vanished, replaced with something colder—pity, maybe. Or worse, disdain.

Before Rayan could ask what was happening, a stern voice cut through the air.

“Black-eyed. This way.”

A tall man with silver streaks in his hair stood at the entrance to a shadowed corridor, motioning for Rayan and the other black-eyed recruits to follow. His eyes were hard, devoid of warmth, and the way he looked at them made Rayan’s skin crawl. It was as if they weren’t even people—just things to be dealt with.

Rayan hesitated, but the surrounding others began moving silently, as if they knew what was coming. Reluctantly, he fell into step, his feet feeling heavy as lead.

The corridor they entered was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the bright halls outside. The air felt heavy. As they walked, Rayan noticed the anxious looks on the faces of those around him. No one spoke, but their fear was clear.

They reached a large room. It was cold and empty except for a raised platform in the center. Harsh lights from above cast an eerie glow. Unlike the vibrant halls outside, this room had no decoration. It felt unsettling.

David appeared at the edge of the room, his expression serious. “It’s time for your test, Rayan,” he said calmly. His words made Rayan’s stomach churn.

A woman in robes stepped forward, holding a long staff with a strange feather. It looked old and mystical.

“One by one,” she said, her voice chilling. “Step forward.”

Rayan watched as the first recruit approached her. The woman touched his forearm with the feather. A soft light appeared, leaving a glowing mark on his skin. A nod from the woman followed the mark. The recruit walked away with a look of relief.

One by one, the recruits were marked on their forearms with different symbols, each representing a different clan. Some looked relieved, others anxious, but all were marked.

When it was Rayan’s turn, he stepped up, his hands shaking. The woman touched his forearm with the feather. At first, nothing happened. The feather tip flickered, but no mark appeared.

The room grew silent. The woman frowned, her eyes full of confusion. She tried again, but still no mark appeared.

Rayan’s heart raced. The woman stepped back, looking uncertain. “No mark,” she said quietly.

Rayan’s breath caught in his throat. No mark?

"Am I... broken?" Rayan's voice was barely audible, lost in the sea of murmurs.

David approached, his eyes filled with something between pity and concern. "You’re not broken, Rayan. But... you don’t belong to any tribe."

"What does that mean?" Rayan’s heart pounded, the world around him spinning.

"It means you have a choice," David said, more carefully now. "You can decide your own path. Which tribe do you want to join?"

The weight of the question hung heavily in the air. Rayan glanced at Kevin, who stood quietly beside him. For reasons he couldn’t fully explain, Rayan felt a pull toward the Darkthorn clan, even though he knew almost nothing about them.

"Darkthorn," Rayan said finally, his voice trembling but resolute.

David nodded, and despite the murmurs of uncertainty from the crowd, he led Rayan toward the Darkthorn quarters. Yet, there was something off—Rayan hadn’t received a tattoo like the others. He wasn’t truly a part of them.

The Darkthorn territory was unlike anything Rayan had ever seen—fountains of water sprung from every corner, and people moved with a fluid grace. The air was cooler here, the scent of fresh water hanging in the atmosphere.

David led him to a grand hall where a regal figure, surrounded by elders, awaited them. The man wore an elaborate robe, and every person in the room bowed in his presence. Even David knelt, motioning for Rayan to do the same.

"This is the leader of the Darkthorn clan," David whispered.

Rayan followed suit, though his knees felt weak beneath him. His mind raced with questions, but now wasn’t the time to ask them.

David explained Rayan’s situation to the leader—how the device hadn’t identified him, how he had chosen Darkthorn despite not truly belonging. The leader’s expression was unreadable, but the silence that followed was suffocating.

Finally, the leader spoke, his voice deep and authoritative. "David, you know the risk of accepting someone like him. If he violates any of our traditions, he will be cast out."

Rayan felt like a failed experiment, his heart sinking.

But then the leader nodded. "You may stay. But know this, outsider—you will be watched closely."

David led Rayan to a large house at the edge of the Darkthorn compound. It was a place for newcomers, a temporary home for at the time of their training.

As David prepared to leave, he placed a hand on Rayan’s shoulder. "Always keep your forearms covered," he said gravely. "Others must never know."

Rayan nodded, though he didn’t fully understand. He watched as David walked away, feeling a sense of abandonment creeping in.

Inside, the house was filled with others like him—new recruits and clones with black eye. Rayan moved through the hall, his heart heavy with the weight of everything that had happened. He had chosen a path, but it felt more like the path had chosen him. He searched for Kevin but couldn’t find him.

Later that night, Rayan heard an announcement through a speaker. The voice was from a woman.

"From today, you are a Darkthorn member. Your training begins tomorrow. Be ready at dawn."

The questions still swirled in his mind, unanswered and gnawing at him. What had he truly become? And why was he different?

As he lay in his bed that night, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, Rayan couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning.