Shadow Slave: Flaw of Gods.

"So, I am Veil..."

These words, whispered softly, echoed through the cold emptiness where oblivion still tried to consume every shard of my "self." In the depths of the nightmare, amidst the relentless darkness, a thin spark of realization ignited within my soul.

For a moment, I remembered old webcomics, where the words "status," "self," and "information" sounded like keys to unraveling one's identity. And suddenly, as if by magic, shimmering runes appeared before me. Their ancient energy penetrated deep into my being, even though I couldn't understand their alphabet.

My gaze lingered on one bright rune, reflecting the essence of my being – my Aspect. Before me, words glowed as if carved into time itself:

Name: Veil.

True Name: —

Rank: Candidate.

Core of Soul: Dormant.

Memories: —

Echo: —

Attributes: [Contempt of the Heavens], [Mark of Divinity], [Heir of Dreams].

Aspect: [Distant Dream].

Aspect Description: [A gift that allows the control of dreams and the extraction of their secrets, but requires a sacrifice – the loss of part of one's memory. Thanks to the Seal of Dream, nightmares become a source of power capable of controlling the darkness of oblivion].

For a moment, the world around me became silent. The Seal of Dream awakened memories of those painful years when, orphaned, I wandered the cold streets of a forgotten world. Flashes of pain – the loss of my parents, swept away in that fateful moment when the unknown gates of nightmare opened above the city – flickered like shadows from the past, leaving scars invisible but painful.

Clenching my fists, I gathered my will and stepped out of the hall where ancient symbols had revealed my soul. My steps echoed down the corridors woven from the same magic as the runes on my skin. I could feel oblivion trying to erase me, but deep within, the spark that could resist this darkness still burned.

Turning around, I froze. Before me stretched an endless gallery of identical rooms – each one a mirrored reflection of the other, filled with cold, ancient symbolism and echoes of lost fates. Here, fragments of memories and pieces of pain flickered like a dance of oblivion. The sight of this infinity constricted my heart: the chance of finding that one room with my personal memories seemed almost nonexistent.

But inside, the struggle continued. I felt my weary mind desperately resisting the force trying to erase me completely. The rune light on my skin, like quiet guardians, reminded me: I was a Contender, whose soul's core was dormant but ready to ignite if I did not give in.

Smirking, I recalled an old fairy tale and whispered softly:

"Only the one the world has already lost is truly free, right?"

Moving forward, I felt the rune light intensifying, pushing me onward despite the inevitability of the repetitive halls. My soul, balancing between memories and nightmares, fought – and this struggle gave me strength to continue.

Among the many identical halls and shadows of lost fates, I made a decisive step into the unknown, ready to face my destiny, however grim it might seem. Deep inside, I knew: even if the labyrinth tried to erase my memory, my true "self" would burn through the ages, like an unquenchable spark in the heart of the night. But ahead of me lay another trial – to gather the remaining shards of my lost identity.