It’s been six months since I landed here in this strange place with no memory of my own. The days bleed together, each one indistinguishable from the last. I can’t even remember how I got here, but I know one thing for sure—I’m still alive, and that’s a miracle in itself.

  I woke up in a place like no other. The sky was choked with swirling, ash-gray clouds, the air thick and oppressive as if the world itself was holding its breath. For a moment, I thought it was night, but no, the air was far too alive—too suffocating. I could almost hear the world pulse with each strained heartbeat, as if the land itself was holding a secret just beyond reach. I lay there, my back against jagged concrete, the sharp scent of rust and decay clawing at my senses.

  My head throbbed in a constant, unrelenting pain. My limbs felt heavy, like they'd been dragged through the dirt, and when I tried to reach for my thoughts—my memories—there was nothing. An unyielding blankness where my past should have been. I couldn’t even recall my own name at first.

  The sky above didn’t seem real. It wasn’t like the bright blue I’d once seen in forgotten moments; it was dull, muted, as if the heavens themselves had grown tired of their task. The clouds churned endlessly, folding into themselves, a never-ending cycle that seemed to drown the world beneath them. There was no sun, no light to guide the way—only the heavy weight of the sky pressing down, pressing against me.

  I shifted slowly, each movement sending waves of pain through my body. My fingers brushed against the cold, jagged concrete, and I stared at the broken remnants of what had once been a city. Buildings towered over me, their skeletal remains now home to nothing but ash and wind. The crumbling streets were scattered with debris—twisted metal, shattered glass, and the remains of what seemed like a once-thriving society. Now, it was nothing but ruins, a graveyard for the living and the dead alike.

  I dragged myself to my feet, the motion slow and laborious. The ground beneath me was uneven, treacherous, as if it too had been broken by the forces of whatever had shaped this place. My head spun, but I forced my legs to obey. There had to be answers here, somewhere. I didn’t know why I knew that, but I did. I could feel it in the marrow of my bones, an instinct deep inside me that refused to die.

  A sharp, acrid wind cut across the broken city, carrying with it the stench of something... wrong. The air tasted bitter, like ash, and my throat burned with each breath. It wasn’t just the air—it was the land itself, as if it had been poisoned by something darker, something ancient. The longer I stood there, the more I could sense it—a deep, gnawing hunger in the land, as though the earth itself was waiting for something, something inevitable.

  I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t even know where I was. There were no signs of life, no sounds other than the occasional creak of metal or the whisper of wind through the ruins. The city—or whatever was left of it—seemed abandoned, forgotten by time, as though it had been left to rot. I stumbled forward, my feet dragging across the broken stones, hoping to find some sign of civilization, some answer to the questions gnawing at my mind.

  As I moved, I began to hear a sound—distant at first, like a faint hum, barely noticeable. It grew louder as I walked, and I couldn’t tell if it was the wind, the city itself groaning under some unseen weight, or something else entirely. I stopped, my ears straining, trying to make sense of it.

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  The sound wasn’t natural. It was rhythmic, almost like a heartbeat, but not human—something older, something... deeper. It seemed to come from below, from the very bowels of the earth. I froze, listening, feeling the pulse of it in my bones. Whatever it was, it was alive, and it was moving.

  I swallowed hard, the gnawing hunger in the air tightening around me like a vice. I knew I shouldn’t investigate. It wasn’t safe. But the curiosity, the need to know, was overpowering. Against my better judgment, I took a step toward the source of the sound.

  The ground trembled beneath my feet, a subtle vibration that grew stronger with every step I took. My heart pounded in my chest, the rhythmic thrum of it syncing with the pulse from below. It was like the land itself was trying to speak to me, warning me, or perhaps calling me. But I couldn’t understand its language, couldn’t make sense of its words. I was an outsider here, a stranger in a world that seemed to have forgotten me.

  I came to a stop at the edge of what appeared to be a large pit, the remnants of a collapsed building sinking into the earth. The pit was dark, a yawning abyss that seemed to lead down into the very heart of the world. The hum was louder now, the pulse of it vibrating through my bones, filling my chest with a strange, uncomfortable pressure.

  For a moment, I hesitated. Something told me I should turn back, that whatever was down there was not meant for me to find. But something deeper, something primal, urged me to move forward. It wasn’t curiosity—it was a compulsion, an instinct that had no words, only a gnawing need to uncover whatever secret this place held.

  I knelt at the edge of the pit, peering into the darkness. My breath caught in my throat as I saw it—faint, but undeniable—a sliver of light, deep within the depths. It flickered like a dying flame, and though it was distant, I could feel its pull. The pulse of it reverberated through the air, calling to me.

  Without thinking, I reached into my pocket, my fingers brushing the cool surface of something—a small shard of crystal. It was nothing extraordinary, just a piece of jagged stone, but it hummed in my hand, its energy in sync with the pulse from below. A strange warmth radiated from it, and for a moment, I felt... connected to this place. It was as if the shard was a part of the land, a key that could unlock its secrets.

  I stood up slowly, the weight of the shard pressing against my palm. The light from the pit flickered again, this time brighter, and I felt the ground tremble beneath me. It was almost as if the very earth was shifting, reacting to the shard’s presence.

  I turned away from the pit, feeling a sharp tug in my chest as the pulse from below grew louder, more insistent. Whatever was down there, whatever force this city had been built upon, it was waking, and I was caught in its path.

  I didn’t know how much time passed as I wandered through the ruins. The city had become an oppressive labyrinth, each corner leading to more questions, more uncertainty. But it was clear now—I was not alone here. There was something watching me, something that followed in the shadows, just beyond my vision.

  I could feel it in the air, a shift in the atmosphere as the pulse from below grew stronger. The world itself seemed to be moving around me, reacting to my presence. It was as if I had stepped into a world already in motion, a world that had forgotten me but was now slowly beginning to remember.

  I didn’t know what would happen next. All I had was the shard in my hand, the constant hum in the air, and the nagging sense that I was on the edge of something far greater than I could understand. But one thing was certain: I was alive. And that, in a world like this, felt like a miracle.

  Hello everyone, this is the first chapter of my first novel !

  Enjoy!