Night fell like a slab over the city, covering it with ancient shadows. Kael walked through alleys infested with rot and wailing, his mind still burning from the words of the fallen god. Since that encounter, the dreams had grown worse. But that night... it was not a dream. It was an echo.
It all began when he saw his reflection.
Not in a mirror. But in a pool of stagnant water, polluted by the acid rain of the rotting city. But it was not his face looking back at him. It was another one. One that he had never seen... but that he recognized with devastating certainty.
A man with a stern look and golden eyes. His hair was as white as ashes and his skin glowed with dim light, as if the sun dwelt in his veins. He wore golden armor, torn at some edges, stained with blood. Behind him, a battlefield covered with corpses... and a woman, fallen, mourning her death.
-Ixchel..." whispered Kael without knowing why. The name slid across his lips like an open wound.
Then he felt it.
A tug. A heartbeat. As if his soul was being ripped from his body and thrown into the past. Her vision blurred and her body fell to its knees. But his consciousness... his consciousness was somewhere else.
He saw himself, different. Not as a broken child, but as a warrior. A deity.
The world was burning.
The skies were tearing apart and the sun was eclipsed by black wings. Monstrous creatures descended from the skies. And he... he fought alone. His sword, forged with the fire of the sun, cut gods and beasts alike. Every blow was a prayer. Every wound, a broken promise.
In that echo, Kael - or whoever he had been - fell to his knees before a dark figure. A god shrouded in shadows, with a scepter carved from children's bones and a face that was all the faces of fear.
-Your love is your doom, Kinich," the shadow spat. No god should love as humans do. For that you will fall.
And he did.
With a roar, the Kinich of the past lunged into the darkness... and was pierced. A black spear emerged from his back, and his light was extinguished. The last image was Ixchel, running towards him, screaming his name in tears.
The world collapsed into white.
Kael awoke gasping for breath, his body drenched in cold sweat. He was bleeding from his nose, and a mark burned on his chest: the same one left by the fallen god. His surroundings trembled, as if something ancient had been unleashed.
And for the first time, he understood.
He had died before. He had loved. He had lost.
The reflection was not a vision. It was a memory. A warning.
For his destiny did not begin in this life.
It had been dragging on since the beginning of time.