"Stand where the roads meet and look closely.
Ask for the ancient path- the way that leads to what is right.
Walk in it, and you will find rest for your soul.
But the people said "we will not work in it".
These words echoed through the ages, a whisper against the ceaseless noise of Volradis.
Volradis- a land that boasted life yet breathed nothing but decay. A city dazzling with laughter and endless noise. Greed hid behind every smile. Hatred lurked beneath every celebration. Unrighteousness ruled like a silent king.
Here, people walked with bright eyes and dead souls.
And in a lonely park swallowed by shadows, Elior stood.
He stared at the reflection of the moon on a muddy puddle, the pale light flickering like a dying candle. The night breeze brushed against him, carrying a whisper of something he could not name- a presence, distant yet near, as if the city itself was watching.
Elior had never cared for God. Not once. Faith was a joke to him; eternity nothing more than a fantasy.
That was his truth… or so he thought.
Fate had other plans. And something- or someone- was already moving in the darkness, drawing closer.