A low hum reverberated through Dreven’s body as he slowly woke up. Blinking, he looked around. Where was he? Questions flooded his mind. The air was dense. Blinking several times he sat up and took a deep breath.
Stretched out before him uncountable archways of pure light lined a seemingly endless cavern down either side of him, radiating a quiet hum. The brightness was cold and unyielding, casting long shadows that warped on the polished cavern floor. He had died—or at least he believed he had.
The last thing he remembered was a sharp pain, the biting, metallic cold of a sword piercing his chest. Who had killed him? He didn’t know; everything had become a blur in those final, desperate moments.
"What is going on here? What is this place?" His voice echoed down the vast, empty hall.
A silence followed, deep and impenetrable, until—
"Balance...must be maintained."
The voice thundered around him, vibrating through his bones, shivering across his skin like ice water. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "Balance? What does that have to do with me?" he asked, his voice quivering despite him not fearing much.
“K’rath guide me!” Dreven attempted to call out to his patron deity, but felt and heard only silence. Deafening silence.
“Your God had no power in my realm. Little Sanguinari.” the mysterious voice said with a hint of mockery.
Dreven’s memories flickered: the bloodstained halls he’d left behind, the countless faces of those he’d slain. As a lowly Sanguinari, he had neither rank nor wealth—but his hands were far from clean.
A vision flashed before his eyes: the ancient fortress, its gothic spires piercing the twilight sky. Silver-armored Paladins of the Holy Flame stormed the gates, their swords glinting in the dying light. As a low-ranking Sanguinari, Dreven had charged into the fray, desperate to protect his mistress.
He moved with the grace of a shadow, his clawed fingers flashing as he dispatched two conscripts with ease. Their blood, a dark and viscous fluid, fueled his power. But as he turned to face a charging knight, a spear pierced his heart. A wave of searing holy fire consumed him, and his vision faded to black.
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The vision ended, leaving Dreven alone in the silent hall. A cold realization washed over him. The connection to his mistress, the source of his power and purpose, had been severed. He was adrift, a solitary vessel in a vast, cosmic ocean.
He turned his gaze to the other Sanguinari, their long, pointed ears and glowing yellow eyes a stark contrast to their pale, lifeless skin. Dreven himself was a striking figure: his long, black hair flowed down his back, framing his face with its pointed ears. His eyes, devoid of pupils, glowed an ominous gold. His skin was a sickly gray, a byproduct of his transformation into a Sanguinari.
"The doors before you represent a new life, worlds that are in need of balance," the voice rumbled, cold and unfeeling. "You will have the chance to adjust the scales."
The voice echoed on, distant and intangible.
"So...you’re saying I’ll be sent to a new world to...what? Be good? Help people?" His laugh sounded brittle, almost mocking. Sanguinari were nearly universally despised by people of his previous world. What would change in this new one?
Silence answered, save for the whisper of the air. Then, the voice spoke again, each word resonant and absolute. "Do as you please. But the deities of the realm you choose will not be pleased with my interference. They may send agents after you."
Dreven felt an uneasy thrill creep up his spine. Each doorway had strange symbols glowing faintly in the familiar script of his home giving him the ability to understand basic information about the world…or at least a feeling about it. Details were almost like on the edge of his mind.
"Earth?" He stopped before one door, frowning. The faint pulse of energy behind it felt stale, almost disappointing a world of low magic and fully explored. His own world was of similar size, dull and predictable. No. He needed room to grow. A place of boundless potential.
"I would like to pick a realm that is vast with much yet to be tamed or explored. Unspoiled by magic or abilities like my own," he said, his voice carrying a note of hunger. "I want a fresh slate. Does such a place exist?"
"...Yes. Is that where you desire to be sent?"
A small, dark smile crept onto his lips. "I do wish that."
A single beam rose from one of the doorways, casting a circle of golden light that warmed his skin. "Ultima," he murmured, the word pulsing with mystery and vastness. This realm stretched endlessly, a thousand times larger than his homeworld, a place of towering mountains, endless forests, and vast oceans. It was a world of magic, of myth, and of monsters.
“K’rath guide me.” He whispered hoping to feel even the slightest amount of presence from him.
“This world has long been in need of someone like you. Farewell may your next life be better than the last.”
But as he tried to peer deeper, the doorway flared forward, enveloping him in a torrent of light. Shadows whirled around him, and the ground fell away, leaving him plummeting into the unknown.