In a dark, endless void, an incorporeal gap between dimensions, countless soul-like entities drifted without direction.

While the five senses, sight, sound, touch, taste and smell, did not seem to exist in this space between worlds, each of the entities resonated with a strange pulse of energy enabling them to communicate with each other.

Some of the pluses were energetic, others tranquil. Some contained anger and resentment while others, peace and harmony.

Each soul had its energy and pulse, giving them something similar to a unique personality.

When the souls came across those that had similar energy, they would group up. When they found those whose pluses conflicted with their own, they moved in separate directions.

A small, tear-like hole appeared, releasing blinding light into the endless darkness as a new soul appeared in the abyss. Its energy was chaotic, panicked and afraid yet, the souls around it continued as if nothing extraordinary had occurred.

When some of the more peaceful, energetic entities passed, their pulses turned more reassuring and welcoming, but like ships passing in the night, they soon drifted off and disappeared amongst the innumerable souls that called this place home.

The new soul had a stronger presence than the rest, seemingly a more concrete existence. However, that was because it still had a strong sense of identity that bound their essence together.

As time passed in the void, and they experienced the laws of this strange, new dimension, most would lose their sense of self and, eventually, disperse into the vacuum, turning to nothingness.

There was an exception to this rule, and whenever one of these ancient, terrifying entities passed, the meandering souls would quickly distance themselves.

They were beings that had stood the tests of time and adversity, mutating into something close to what the mortal planes would consider gods and the highest existence in the realm.

For those under them, those that had not given up and fallen into madness, they continuously drifted in search of a tear in reality, a portal to the mortal planes in which they could be temporarily reborn and could gain some respite from the endless abyss.

When whatever rooted them to the physical plane was destroyed, they would return to the abyss, yet stronger than when they had left. The experiences they gained offset the mind-destroying boringness, strengthened their souls and most importantly, reaffirmed their sense of identity.

There was a downside to gaining strength, and that was that it became harder and harder to find a tear large enough to allow their incorporeal essences to pass through.

It was due to this that the god-like entities were extremely rare, to the point of being none existent as only they could maintain their identity without visiting the mortal plane.

New souls, even though they had a stronger sense of identity, were much smaller and weaker than others, making it extremely easy to find small tears in reality and seep into the mortal planes.

These tears where often the result of a tremendous amount of energy existing in a small space. The more significant the amount of power, the bigger the crack would be and thus, the stronger the soul that could pass through it.

Most of these holes between dimensions were natural, or as an unknown side effect but there was one type that was due to the direct results of intentional tampering with these energies.

In the mortal planes, this kind of event was commonly called a summoning. Sentient races would summon creatures from the void, sacrificing energy for the link and materials to build a body.

If the energy was insufficient for the entity they envisioned in their mind's eye, or the materials were lacking, the summoning would fail with catastrophic consequences.

The multiple races and cultures of the physical planes called the beings summoned into existence by many names.

For the summoners that envisioned holy, miraculous creatures that held kind, well-meaning intent, they would summon a soul that matched. These were generally called demigods, angels, loving spirits and heroes.

Those that held malicious intent, or had a vague image, they would often summon the souls that had great anger, had fallen into despair or madness and generally were extremely unstable. Often, these deformed creatures would immediately fall into sin as they vented and distracted themselves from their fate. These creatures were often referred to as demons, devils, evil spirits and vengeful ghosts.

There was another type, that was extremely rare even in the endless void, and those were the souls that had lost their minds but retained a strong sense of self. Most of these reverted to a more primordial, animalistic state and would rarely be summoned. Instead, they were attracted by the natural tears and often would integrate with the linked world's laws and elements, becoming semi-intelligent forces of nature.

While their dispositions were as varied as the lifeforms across the multiple planes, in the end, all souls were the same. Because of this, a soul would often fluctuate between the different definitions in a cycle that would only end when they achieved godhood or had become nothing.

An inorganic screech, followed by a wave of energy that washed over the nearby souls and resonated deep within their beings, signified that yet another soul had escaped the abyss.

Due to its abrupt appearance, precisely at the position the soul had been residing, the soul seemed to have been purposefully causing the energy of the souls around it to fluctuate in anger and jealousy.

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For such a specific summoning, the soul must have left a link in the mortal world and, as long as those summoning it had enough energy and materials, it wouldn't need to rely on luck to survive.

Unfortunately, due to a strange law that affected all of the souls, none of the souls that left the abyss could say, act or influence the mortal world in a way that revealed their origin.

This included purposefully leaving links.

If they bent this law, lightning would fall from the sky and give them a tribulation which few could survive. If they outright broke it, their mortal bodies would explode, severely damaging their souls and returning them to the void.

It wasn't only this law that restricted them, but the fact that the souls were strangely compelled to conform to the beliefs of the world and their summoner, it was almost impossible to tell a soul from the void against a mortal.

Newer souls even forgot what they were until they returned to the abyss while older ones kept their memories but often the world would manipulate it in a way, so it seemed like they had simply reincarnated.

Of course, there are always exceptions and close to where the soul had just disappeared was one of the strangest.

Amongst the souls that had seemingly been re-energised by the departure of their companion, moving with intent in the hopes to stumble across a tear, a lone soul floated motionlessly.

A slow but strong pulse, radiated from it, like the beat of the drum yet this is not why the souls that came near, quickly moved away.

Judging by its presence, while it wasn't new to the abyss, it hadn't been here long yet, by the pulse of energy that appeared from it reeked of death.

The actions of a soul during their summonings would stain the soul, a byproduct of the strengthening and memory retention and it was clear that this strange soul had not only killed many but had died tragically countless times.

This little soul, minding its own business as it floated without purpose, was the self-named Nyx.

To the other souls, the endless abyss was terrifying, yet to Nyx, it had been the only place he could find peace.

His soul had been ripped from his natural world, bound by the abyss as he crossed dimensions, turning his mortal being into an abyss soul, and tied into servitude.

What made it worse was that his master actually knew about creating soul links, and immediately bound a sliver of the soul's essence into a crystal.

With this, no matter how many times Nyx died, all the summoner needed to do was prepare a ritual, and he would be revived.

He was the perfect weapon, especially as he retained his memories between lives.

To save resources, the summoner would only summon his soul, injecting it into a nearby corpse and casting reanimation magic on it.

A seemingly endless cycle of pain and suffering, in which Nyx would kill and be killed began. One which he was unable to escape.

While he was a mortal, Nyx was a simple man with a wife and kids, boring job and loving parents yet it wasn't long before his fragile mentality started to crack. As a subconscious act of saving his sanity, Nyx had thrown away his true name and adopted a name and personality that might be able to survive.

Finding solitude in the endless darkness of the abyss, which also matched the natural element of his soul, Nyx had chosen to adopt the name of a goddess from his homeworld.

As time passed, he was no longer bothered by killing or being killed. It was just another event yet with each brutal demise his fear of pain and suffering increased.

The astral soul released a wave of energy that felt like a sigh of contentment.

That was in the past, and while time held no meaning in this dimension, the fact that he was free filled Nyx with joy.

It could have been minutes, years or even centuries but the feeling hadn't diminished in the slightest.

After many, short, brutal lives, his master was finally assassinated by an opposing force and, in fear of retribution, they had destroyed his soul crystal.

The reason he knew this?

Was their first attack had severely damaged the crystal that hung around his master's neck, disabling him as intense agony washed over his body.

After that, he had watched as a sword penetrated his master's heart, the shock on her face a priceless expression that he still couldn't forget. Moments later, a man holding a giant, magic mace took his crystal and placed it on the floor nearby, preparing to smash it.

Nyx's souls shuddered for a moment. How he wished he had seen its end with his own eyes, but unfortunately, he had already been dragged to his knees and a knife drawn across his neck as a dagger plunged into his heart.

He did have the reputation of the undying trickster so he couldn't blame them but Nyx felt they could have at least thrown his body so, in the last moments of his life, he could watch the destruction of the cursed object.

Nyx's soul continued to float, one of the few contented souls that were trying to avoid going to the mortal world yet, his happiness didn't last.

The familiar screech of a tear, one felt but not heard, resonated through the nearby souls as it appeared at Nyx's exact location, causing his soul to tremble violently.

The waves of energy emanating from Nyx immediately exploded like a call to arms, his entire soul-shaking with fury.

As quickly as the tear had appeared, it vanished leaving behind an empty space.

Nyx's soul slammed into a body, still slightly warm, causing it to shake violently.

Four strong hands, two on his shoulders and the other pair on his ankles holding him down.

Fury bellowed in Nyx's mind, yet unlike the precious summonings, in which he was contained within a powerful, although dead, body, he couldn't gather any energy at all.

Struggling to remain conscious, the weak, frail body he had recently inhabited not being able to withstand his soul's sudden appearance, Nyx barely managed to open one of his eyes.

His pupil shrunk as he felt his lips pull back into what could only be described as a weak, pathetic looking snarl.

Nyx watched as his most hated object, his soul crystal, was dropped into the pocket of a smiling, dark-robed man.

"Looks like it was a success," chuckled the man as he scratched his thinning, white hair. He was clearly exhausted, and slightly confused why the stone he used for healing had taken so much energy from it this time. Forcing another chuckle, he quickly pushed the issue to the back of his mind for later. "Now try to restrain yourself in the future. As long as you don't kill her or disfigure her face, we should be able to ransom her off easily."

"What abo-" A deep, whining voice echoed from behind Nyx.

"I just said I don't care what you do to her, just don't let her die again or mess up her face. She has no value to us dead, and if her looks are damaged too much, her father will surely won't let it go so easily." the robed man responded before turning away, clearly irritated by the man. "Don't worry, because of her status, what happens to here will be swept under the rug as long as we do nothing that will surface appearances so keep doing what you are best at. It also means we eliminate another potential threat in the future, planting heart demons we can abuse when the time is right."

Nyx eye slowly closed as he burned the image of the man into his mind. While he sensed that there was no binding magic on him, meaning that he could take his own life and return to the void, he didn't even entertain the idea while his soul crystal remained.

As long as it existed, he would be at the mercy of others. It had to go.

Nyx resolve hardened. He would destroy the crystal and anyone who stood in his way at all costs. Only then could he be free.

With those thoughts, Nyx finally lost consciousness and fell into the darkness that felt so comforting to him.