Zane’s dream: The fall of the shadow

Zane stood in the middle of nowhere. Literally. Just an empty, endless void. No ground, no sky, no walls.

“…Well, this is new,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “Gotta say, I’ve had some weird dreams before, but this one’s really going for the ‘budget cut’ aesthetic.”

Then, a shadow appeared.

A figure, featureless but imposing, stepped forward. Its form flickered between solid and smoke, like reality itself couldn’t decide if it was really there.

Zane blinked. “Oh. Okay. Creepy shadow guy. Cool, cool. Are we gonna do the whole ‘mysterious guide to the unknown’ thing? Or do I wake up before you say anything important?”

The shadow didn’t answer immediately. Instead, its voice—deep, distant, like an echo of something ancient—resonated through the void.

“Come with me.”

Zane raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. See, that’s a little vague. ‘Come with me’ where, exactly? Because if this is some ‘lead me into the light’ nonsense, I’m gonna have to pass. I like being alive. Big fan, actually.”

The shadow didn’t move. “Come.”

Zane sighed, crossing his arms. “Listen, buddy, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t usually follow strangers into the abyss. Bad habit to start, you know? How about we just chill here?”

Then, without warning, the shadow appeared right in front of him.

Zane flinched. “—Oh, hell no.”

His body stiffened as he finally got a closer look at the figure. It had no face, no features, just shifting blackness where a person’s face should be. A presence that felt both ancient and unsettlingly focused on him.

Zane, naturally, handled the situation with grace and maturity.

“Bro,” he blurted, squinting. “How old are you? You got that ‘I’ve seen civilisations rise and fall’ vibe, but at the same time, your skincare routine is non-existent. Moisturise, my guy.”

The shadowy figure grabbed his hand.

Zane immediately started backpedalling. “Whoa, whoa, personal space! We just met! I don’t even know if you got fingers or if this is just, like, shadow goop.”

The entity didn’t let go. Instead, its voice deepened.

“Behold.”

Darkness rushed around them, swallowing everything. The void itself bent, twisting, reshaping—until suddenly, Zane was falling.

And below him, the past awaited.

At the dawn of existence, before the stars knew their names, before the first breath of wind touched the world, there were two.

Brothers.

They had no names, no purpose—only each other.

They played in the void, shaping light and shadow, creating for no reason other than the joy of it. The Light Entity danced in golden radiance, painting streaks of brilliance across the nothingness. The Shadow Entity followed, weaving darkness between the golden strands, laughing as the shapes shifted into something new.

They didn’t question why they existed. They simply were.

But then, something changed.

A world appeared.

A world they hadn’t made.

They were young, perhaps no older than twelve—or at least, that was how they felt. Their minds expanded beyond time, yet they carried the hearts of children.

The world below fascinated them. Small creatures moved across its surface, speaking, building, fighting, loving. They had never seen anything like it before.

The Light Entity was captivated. He leaned forward, golden eyes wide, watching them with excitement.

“Look at them! They build, they burn, they start over! They never stop moving!”

The Shadow Entity watched as well, but his gaze was different. Where his brother saw motion, he saw meaning.

“They feel,” he murmured.

“Of course they do! Look at that one—he just threw a rock at the other! That’s how they talk, isn’t it?” The Light Entity laughed.

But the Shadow Entity kept watching. He saw the flicker of pain in the one who had been struck. The slight hesitation before the retaliation. The uncertainty.

“No,” he said softly. “That wasn’t talking.”

The Light Entity scoffed. “You’re always thinking too much. What does it matter? They’ll get up and do something else in a moment.”

The Shadow Entity didn’t respond.

He felt something. Something his brother didn’t.

And that feeling would only grow.

Time passed. They watched. The humans changed. They built cities, grew stronger, fought harder.

Then, one day, war erupted.

It started with two kingdoms, but soon it spread. A wildfire of hatred, ambition, fear. Armies marched, swords clashed, flames devoured everything.

The Light Entity was enthralled.

“They’re magnificent!” he cried, watching as thousands rushed into battle. “Look at them! They never stop! They break, but they keep going! Isn’t it wonderful?”

But the Shadow Entity didn’t answer. He had drifted away, unseen, his gaze fixed on the battlefield.

He saw fear. Pain. The last gasps of dying men, the weeping of widows, the orphaned children left behind.

He felt it.

And for the first time in his existence, he hurt.

The Light Entity noticed.

“Why do you look like that?” he asked, frowning.

The Shadow Entity’s voice was quiet.

“They are suffering.”

The Light Entity blinked, confused. “So? That’s what they do.”

His brother turned to face him. Golden light met deep black.

“They don’t have to.”

The Light Entity’s confusion deepened. His brother always overthought things, always tried to feel. It was strange. But he didn’t like seeing him like this.

So he made a choice.

“I’ll fix it.”

The Light Entity acted.

He took a fraction of his power and spread it across the world. A handful of humans—worthy ones—rose above the chaos, gifted with a force called Essence. With it, they ended the war, silencing the fighting with sheer might.

It worked.

The Shadow Entity looked at the peace that followed. He felt the calm return to the world, the pain fading.

For a moment, he thought maybe—just maybe—his brother had done something good.

But then time passed.

And the heroes changed.

Their power twisted them. What began as peacekeeping turned to control. Kings bowed before them. Armies were raised in their name. And soon, the world burnt again—but this time, the wars were fought because of them.

The Shadow Entity confronted his brother.

“You did this.”

The Light Entity frowned. “No, I stopped the war.”

“You stopped one war and created another.”

The Light Entity waved a hand dismissively. “They’re the ones who changed, not me. I just gave them the tools.”

The Shadow Entity’s hands clenched. “Fix it.”

His brother sighed. “Fine.”

And so, the Light Entity reclaimed his power.

And in doing so, he was changed.

Power was meant to flow—not return to its source. When the Light Entity absorbed what he had given, something shifted within him. The strength he regained was twisted, impure.

He did not see it.

But the Shadow Entity did.

“You’re different,” he said.

“I am stronger,” the Light Entity corrected. “That was a mess, but it’s over now. It’s fine.”

It was not fine.

The world shifted.

And soon, the Light Entity began to change.

He became obsessed with balance. He saw humanity as something flawed, something unworthy of true peace.

So he made something else.

Something perfect.

He shaped a celestial being—Asphalon.

A creature meant to wipe away imperfection, to cleanse the world of the weak, the corrupt, the impure.

The Shadow Entity watched in horror.

And when Asphalon descended upon the world, bringing fire, death, and ruin, he could no longer remain a watcher.

For the first time, he broke the rule.

He descended.

And he fought.

It was not an easy battle. The Celestial Beast was a force beyond mortal comprehension. But the Shadow Entity was desperate, furious, determined.

He won.

Asphalon was sealed away in a shadow-forged orb, locked where the Light Entity could never reach him again.

Then, the brothers stood face to face.

The Light Entity had changed. He looked older now, stronger, colder.

The Shadow Entity had changed too. His heart was heavy, his resolve hardened.

“This is the last time,” he told his brother. “Next time, I will stop you. Even if it means we both fall.”

The Light Entity smiled.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Light engulfed the shadow entity.

It burnt without pain, without warmth—just an all-consuming radiance that swallowed everything.

He felt himself fading, dissolving into the overwhelming force of his brother’s will.

But he refused.

Even in the face of annihilation, he would not let it end like this.

As the Light devoured him, he reached deep within himself—and tore away a piece of his own essence.

It hurt. It was the pain of unmaking, of becoming less.

But it worked.

A fragment—small, but whole—broke free.

Before his brother could notice, before the overwhelming tide could reclaim it, the fragment escaped.

And with it, the last remnants of the Shadow Entity’s will remained.

Find a host.

Find a warrior.

Stop him.

The vision faded. The echoes of war, of gods and ruin, of light and shadow—gone.

Zane stood frozen. His breath came uneven—like he’d just run miles, but he hadn’t moved an inch. The vision was gone, but the weight of it wasn’t.

It was still there. Lodged in his chest like something clawing to get out.

He rubbed his arms. Why did he feel… cold?

It wasn’t just what he had seen. It was what he had felt.

The exhaustion. The heartbreak. The crushing sense of fighting a battle that never ended, of watching everything slip through his fingers over and over again.

For a moment, he swore he could still feel the roughness of ancient stone beneath his hands. The heat of fire licking at his skin. The cold stare of something waiting for him to break.

Zane swallowed hard. His voice was quieter now. “…Am I that warrior?”

The shadow figure stood in silence, motionless, its form shifting slightly, like a flame flickering in unseen wind. Then, without a word, it turned and began walking away.

Zane frowned. “Wait. Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He hurried after the entity. “I know you’re not just gonna ghost me after dropping all that trauma on my brain. Mr. Shadow—where you going? I got questions.”

The entity didn’t stop.

And then, the space around them began to shatter.

The void cracked like glass, splitting into glowing fractures. A deep, distant rumble echoed through the empty world.

Zane threw up his hands. “Oh, of course! Mysterious, cryptic dude just leaves without answering anything, and now reality is falling apart! Classic dream mentor move!”

The cracks spread, the entire dream collapsing inward.

Zane felt himself yanked backward—a force pulling him away from the crumbling void.

His last words before vanishing?

“Man, you could’ve at least said bye!”

—

Zane’s eyes shot open.

He sucked in a sharp breath, heart still pounding from the fall, the vision, the sheer weirdness of it all.

The ceiling above him was unfamiliar. Soft light streamed through a nearby window. He wasn’t in a void anymore.