Darkness.
Silence.
No pain.
No heartbeat.
Nothing.
…
Then…
A single voice whispered through the void.
"Open your eyes…"
Dawsyn obeyed.
The Legacy Vault was gone.
Marcus.
Daisy.
The Patriarchs.
Everything had disappeared.
Above him stretched an endless crimson sky where three moons hung suspended over a world unlike anything he had ever imagined.
Mountains floated upside down.
Rivers flowed through the air like shimmering dragons.
Great forests glowed with silver leaves.
Creatures the size of castles soared between the clouds.
"This…"
Dawsyn whispered.
"…where am I?"
The System appeared, but it had changed.
The familiar blue interface had become ancient crimson script that seemed to write itself in flowing blood.
Blood Memory Initiated
Origin Memory #1
Location:
Eryndor
The First World
Time:
Unknown
Observer Status:
You cannot alter history.
Experience the memories of your ancestors.
"The First World…"
Dawsyn repeated.
Before he could gather his thoughts, the ground beneath him trembled.
Thousands of people stood atop a cliff overlooking a vast valley.
No…
Not people.
Some had pointed ears and shimmering skin.
Others possessed horns.
Massive winged beasts circled overhead.
Giants carrying trees as weapons walked among them.
Creatures made entirely of living crystal watched silently from nearby hills.
Magic filled the air.
It wasn't something being cast.
It simply…
Existed.
Every breath carried mana.
Every leaf shimmered with power.
Every living creature radiated energy.
Dawsyn had never imagined a world like this.
A deep voice spoke beside him.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
He spun around.
Standing beside him was the First Patriarch.
Only…
He wasn't old.
He appeared no older than thirty.
His black hair reached his shoulders.
His crimson eyes burned with life.
Unlike the Echo within the Vault…
This man felt real.
"You can see me?"
The Patriarch smiled.
"No."
"I'm simply remembering."
"What you're witnessing happened over twelve thousand years ago."
Dawsyn looked around.
"Twelve thousand…"
The Patriarch nodded.
"This is Eryndor."
"The birthplace of every Bloodline."
He extended his hand toward the horizon.
"There was a time when every race walked together."
Dawsyn followed his gaze.
He saw humans laughing beside elves.
Giants trading with dwarves.
Beastfolk children chasing glowing birds through the fields.
Even dragons flew peacefully overhead.
"No wars?"
The Patriarch's smile faded.
"Not yet."
The sky suddenly darkened.
Without warning…
One of the three moons cracked.
A deafening sound echoed across the world.
The crowd fell silent.
Children stopped laughing.
Every living creature looked upward.
Something enormous moved behind the broken moon.
Dawsyn couldn't make out its shape.
Only its eyes.
Thousands of crimson eyes.
Watching.
Waiting.
The First Patriarch's voice became heavy.
"We called them…"
"…the Void Sovereigns."
The name alone made Dawsyn's body shiver.
"They weren't demons."
"They weren't gods."
"They existed before either."
The broken moon exploded.
A black rain fell across Eryndor.
Where each drop landed…
Life died.
Forests withered in moments.
Rivers turned black.
Animals screamed as their bodies twisted into horrifying monsters.
The peaceful valley erupted into chaos.
The First Patriarch closed his eyes.
"This…"
"…was the beginning of the First Extinction."
A young woman suddenly ran past them carrying a child.
Behind her came creatures unlike anything Dawsyn had ever seen.
They resembled people…
Until you noticed they had no faces.
Only endless darkness where their features should have been.
One reached the woman.
Its claw pierced her chest.
The child screamed.
Dawsyn instinctively ran forward.
"No!"
His hand passed straight through them.
The memory continued unchanged.
He couldn't save them.
He couldn't change anything.
He could only watch.
The helplessness crushed him.
"So many died…"
The Patriarch nodded.
"In a single year…"
"…over half of Eryndor vanished."
Lightning split the heavens.
Dragons fell burning from the sky.
Entire mountains crumbled beneath monstrous creatures born from the black rain.
Every race fought.
Every kingdom united.
Yet…
Nothing stopped the invasion.
Dawsyn looked toward the Patriarch.
"How did anyone survive?"
The old warrior's expression changed.
For the first time…
He smiled.
"Hope."
He pointed toward the center of the battlefield.
A lone young man walked through the chaos.
He carried no weapon.
No armor.
Only a simple black cloak.
Yet every monster instinctively backed away from him.
The air itself trembled in his presence.
Even dragons lowered their heads.
"Who is he?" Dawsyn whispered.
The First Patriarch bowed his head.
"He…"
"…is the first Crimson Sovereign."
The stranger slowly raised one hand.
A single drop of crimson blood floated from his fingertip.
The entire world held its breath.
The Patriarch looked toward Dawsyn.
"Everything you think you know about blood…"
"…began with him."
The mysterious man's eyes slowly opened.
They glowed the exact same crimson as Dawsyn's.
Then…
He turned his head.
Not toward the monsters.
Not toward the battlefield.
He looked directly…
At Dawsyn.
And smiled.