The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
To the Rift
With Luke by my side, we made quick progress through Haven. Despite the oppressive gloom and ever-present shadows, a sense of optimism slowly rose within me, made brighter by Luke's wonder at the surreal landscape. When he wasn't battling remnants, he gazed around in awe, pointing at islands, and asking questions I couldn't always answer.
It was hard to tell whether his curiosity was genuine or merely an attempt to distract me from the daunting task ahead. However, his expression grew increasingly concerned as I explained the nature of the realm, the catastrophe that had befallen it, and my desperate attempt to fix it.
"You mean to tell me you think you can repair a tear in reality itself?" he asked, incredulity lacing his voice.
I nodded, slightly deflated by his skepticism. "It's not reality, precisely," I said, "but Fate. And I've done it before, just never on this scale."
He blinked, mulling over my words. "Fate?" he echoed. "What's the difference?"