Damon was aware of darkness. Not the comforting, sleepy darkness of a night spent under a heavy blanket, but the kind that swallowed you whole, leaving you disoriented and helpless. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been floating in this void—time had become a meaningless concept. Then, suddenly, the darkness cracked open, and he was flooded with a barrage of sights and sounds, overwhelming his senses.

“What… what is this?” His thoughts were frantic, trying to make sense of the chaos around him. He couldn’t see, couldn’t move—he was trapped in a body that wasn’t his own, and nothing responded the way it should.

“You’re awake,” came a voice, calm and almost too composed for the circumstances. “That’s a good start.”

“Awake? Where am I?” Damon’s mind was a whirl of panic. The last thing he remembered was… what? A ritual? Blood? A mountain? But it all felt distant, as if it had happened to someone else, in another life.

“Don’t worry,” the voice continued, smooth as silk. “You’re in the middle of a very special process. Think of it as a transition—a bit like being reborn, but with less mess and more existential dread.”

“Reborn? No, no, this isn’t right! I was on an altar… they were doing something to me!” Damon’s thoughts spiraled, trying to cling to fragments of memory. “There was light… and pain. And now this… I’m trapped!”

“Trapped is a bit strong,” the voice replied, with a tone that suggested it was used to dealing with difficult clients. “You’re more… contained. For now. But that’s just until we can finish integrating you into your new form.”

“New form?” Damon’s fear sharpened into icy clarity. “You mean I’m going to be someone else? But I don’t want to be someone else! I want to stay me!”

“Ah, the classic human attachment to identity,” the voice mused, as if discussing the weather. “It’s charming, really. But you don’t need to worry. You’ll still be you—just a different version of you. A better version, more suited to this new world.”

The words didn’t comfort him. In fact, they sent a fresh wave of panic crashing over him. He remembered now—there had been a woman, strong and determined, wielding a Warhammer with deadly precision. He had felt the shock of her blows as she struck down some terrifying beast. The memory was vivid, yet distant, like watching a movie through a foggy lens. And then there was the light—searing, blinding light that had emanated from him, or rather, the new form he was being forced into.

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“What’s happening to me?” Damon’s thoughts were desperate, grasping at anything that made sense. “That light—it was coming from me, wasn’t it? It hurt… it hurts so much!”

“Yes, about that,” the voice responded, still maddeningly calm. “The light is a side effect of your cognitive dissonance. Your mind is struggling to reconcile what it was with what it’s becoming. It’s perfectly normal, albeit a bit painful.”

“Painful? It feels like I’m being torn apart!” Damon’s fear was morphing into something raw, primal. “I can’t let go—I’ll die if I let go! I’ll lose everything that makes me… me!”

“Not die,” the voice corrected, with the kind of patience reserved for explaining to a child why the sky is blue. “You’ll transform. You’ll become something new, something more. Think of it as an upgrade.”

“An upgrade?” Damon’s thoughts were racing, clinging to the remnants of who he was. “I don’t want an upgrade! I just want to stay who I am!”

“Understandable,” the voice conceded. “But what you want isn’t necessarily what you need. This world is different from the one you knew. The woman you remember, Ochrea, and her husband Theodas—they’ve created something extraordinary, and you’re a part of that now.”

“Ochrea… Theodas…” The names were familiar, stirring something deep within him. He remembered their voices, their determination. They had fought for something—something that involved him, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. “What did they do to me?”

“They brought you into their world,” the voice explained, softer now, as if sensing Damon’s struggle. “They performed a ritual, one that merged your essence with the elements of this world. You’re not just Damon anymore—you’re their child, their creation. The light you saw, the pain you felt—that was the magic of the transformation.”

Damon’s mind reeled, trying to process the impossible. “I don’t understand… they wanted a child, but I’m not a child. I’m… I’m me! I’m Damon!”

“And you still are,” the voice reassured him. “But you’re also something new. Your old self is fading, yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re lost. You’re evolving into something that can thrive here.”

“But if I fade… if I let go… I’ll die. I’ll lose myself completely!” Damon’s fear was back, sharper than ever. He could feel the edges of his consciousness fraying, the light growing dimmer but no less painful.

“Letting go doesn’t mean dying,” the voice said gently. “It means embracing what’s to come. Your memories, your experiences—they’re not gone. They’re just being repurposed, reshaped into something that can live and grow in this world.”

“Repurposed?” Damon’s thoughts were a storm of confusion and fear. “But what if I don’t want to be reshaped? What if I like who I am?”

“Change is always hard,” the voice acknowledged. “But it’s also necessary. The pain you’re feeling—it’s your mind’s way of resisting, of holding onto the past. But this world doesn’t need the old Damon. It needs the new one, the one who can be part of something greater.”

Damon was silent, his fear and confusion warring with a growing sense of inevitability. He remembered the creatures in the forest, the way they had been drawn to him, the light that had flared from his body like a beacon. Ochrea had fought to protect him, to keep him safe, and Theodas had guided her with the calm assurance of someone who knew exactly what was at stake. They had wanted a child, and somehow, that child was him.

“Will I remember any of this?” he asked, his thoughts quieter now, tinged with a strange sort of acceptance.

“Maybe a little,” the voice replied, a note of warmth in its tone. “Just enough to remind you that you were never alone.”

Damon could feel it now, the light fading, the pain easing into something softer, more bearable. His thoughts slowed, the fear receding, replaced by a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in what seemed like lifetimes. The memory of the ritual, of Ochrea and Theodas’s desperate hope, was still there, but it was distant, like a dream slipping away in the morning light.

“Okay,” he thought, the last of his resistance crumbling. “I’m ready.”

And with that, he let go, surrendering to the transformation, to the new life that awaited him. As the world around him faded into darkness, Damon felt a strange sense of calm. He wasn’t sure what lay ahead, but for the first time, he wasn’t afraid.