AlbedoHour wakes with a sharp jolt, his head pounding and body aching. The air around him feels thick, and an unsettling silence presses in. He tries to push through the fog in his mind, but it’s no use the last thing he remembers is a normal day in his modern world. How did he get here? One moment, everything was ordinary and the next, he’s here, in this strange, medieval village.
The buildings around him are crumbling, cobbled streets cracked with age. Where am I? His clothes are unfamiliar, his body feels wrong, and his mind struggles to make sense of it. The world is ancient, almost frozen in time, and nothing feels familiar. The air smells of dust and decay, and the once-vibrant village now lies abandoned, as if long forgotten.
Before he can take another step, footsteps echo from behind. A tall woman steps into view, long black hair with silver tips, golden cat-like eyes, and dark armor that gleams with an eerie glow. She stops before Hour, her eyes widening in shock and disbelief.
The woman steps closer, her hands trembling as she reaches out.
Hour begins to protest, but she cuts him off, her voice filled with urgency and certainty. “You are him,” she insists, her golden eyes glowing brighter. “The Demon Lord... come back to lead us.”
Hour blinks, the words making no sense. The Demon Lord? He doesn’t even know what that means. He glances around, still trying to understand what’s happening. This village, this world, feels so foreign to him. How can this be real? Just a few moments ago, he was back in his own world, surrounded by modern technology, buildings, and people. But now... this? This strange medieval land, with its ancient customs and weapons? It all feels like something out of a fantasy novel.
Albedo rises again, her expression filled with devotion and absolute certainty. “I am Albedo, the Demon General. I will serve you as I always have.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy with expectation. Hour wants to deny it, but the intensity of her gaze, the loyalty in her expression, makes it impossible to ignore. She steps closer, offering her service as though he’s always been the one she’s awaited.
But then, her gaze falters, a shadow crossing her face as the weight of her words sinks in. “The Demon Army... is no more. It was... annihilated in your absence,” she says, her voice dropping to a sorrowful whisper. “There is only me now, my lord. Only I remain.”
The buildings around him are crumbling, cobbled streets cracked with age. Where am I? His clothes are unfamiliar, his body feels wrong, and his mind struggles to make sense of it. The world is ancient, almost frozen in time, and nothing feels familiar. The air smells of dust and decay, and the once-vibrant village now lies abandoned, as if long forgotten.
Before he can take another step, footsteps echo from behind. A tall woman steps into view, long black hair with silver tips, golden cat-like eyes, and dark armor that gleams with an eerie glow. She stops before Hour, her eyes widening in shock and disbelief.
Y-You’ve finally returned...she breathes, voice trembling with awe.
My lord, you have returned to us.Hour freezes. Lord? The woman is calling him Lord, but he has no idea who she is or why she’s looking at him like that. He tries to speak, but his voice falters.
The woman steps closer, her hands trembling as she reaches out.
You’ve lost your memory, haven’t you?she whispers, bowing low before him.
My lord, we have waited for your return... Ten years have passed since you disappeared. The army... we’ve been without you for so long.
Hour begins to protest, but she cuts him off, her voice filled with urgency and certainty. “You are him,” she insists, her golden eyes glowing brighter. “The Demon Lord... come back to lead us.”
Hour blinks, the words making no sense. The Demon Lord? He doesn’t even know what that means. He glances around, still trying to understand what’s happening. This village, this world, feels so foreign to him. How can this be real? Just a few moments ago, he was back in his own world, surrounded by modern technology, buildings, and people. But now... this? This strange medieval land, with its ancient customs and weapons? It all feels like something out of a fantasy novel.
Albedo rises again, her expression filled with devotion and absolute certainty. “I am Albedo, the Demon General. I will serve you as I always have.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy with expectation. Hour wants to deny it, but the intensity of her gaze, the loyalty in her expression, makes it impossible to ignore. She steps closer, offering her service as though he’s always been the one she’s awaited.
But then, her gaze falters, a shadow crossing her face as the weight of her words sinks in. “The Demon Army... is no more. It was... annihilated in your absence,” she says, her voice dropping to a sorrowful whisper. “There is only me now, my lord. Only I remain.”
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