I open my eyes to the world once again and find myself in a room with my former body, now inhabited by another soul.

His hands hover dangerously close to my sister's neck, frozen in an eternal moment. I see the turmoil in his eyes.

Time flows strangely here, it stretches and distorts, a stagnant existence where nothing changes. However, as I gaze upon my own hands, I notice that my radiance dims ever so slowly.

In this state of existence, my perception of the world is different. The room looks devoid of life and color, but beyond its boundaries, above, an expanse of pitch-black darkness stretches infinitely, while below lies a motionless sea, devoid of any signs of life.

The resentment I once held towards my sister has somehow seeped into the new soul inhabiting my former body.

It is in this in-between state, suspended between life and death, that I gain a newfound clarity. I realize that my resentment was misplaced. I long to convey this revelation, to explain him that there is a greater truth at play.

So I extend my hand towards his wrist, hoping to halt his impending actions. As our touch connects, a ripple emanates out, distorting the fabric of time and space like a stone dropped into a still lake.

The hand I touched with dissolves like mist, vanishing into nothingness, while my own radiance weakens further. 

Though I yearn to speak, exhaustion overcomes me, and I am forced to close my eyes.

With a gasp, Mordax jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest. A rough hand gently stroked his bald head, bringing him back to reality.

"Did you have a nightmare again, brother?" Grixi's voice was filled with concern.

He stood up abruptly, with a mixture of relief and regret, he embraced her head tightly to his torso. "I am so sorry, Grixi," Mordax whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse, as he licked her armored head.

Grixi stood still for a moment, taken aback by his sudden display of affection. But soon, understanding washed over her, and she returned the embrace. "Shhh, it was just a bad dream," her voice soothing. "It's all gone now."

The twins held each other, rocking back and forth, seeking solace in the warmth of their embrace.

'Was I going to kill my own sister?" he thought, his voice filled with self-doubt. 'Even if it was just a dream, it's too much. What the fuck is wrong with me?'

Unbeknownst to him, while he had been lost in the depths of his dream, a black dot had taken root on his Qi.

From all the way from their residence, to the nourishment hall. Grixi and Mordax never spoke a word to each other. Thus the heavy air hung between them.

Mordax wrestled with his thoughts, 'I want to ask the reason behind this deep resentment inside of me. Yet I fear her silence, if she avoids the question again, it will only confirm my worst fears.'

Grixi, too, was plagued by her own fears. 'THEY told me that everything would be as it should be, a clean slate, better in every way. Did I make a mistake?' Uncertainty suffocated her.

Their internal struggles were interrupted by a distant marching sound that grew louder with each passing moment. Mordax stopped in his tracks and turned to face the source of the commotion.

The colossal red star loomed over the waking city, casting an eerie glow across it. Around a thousand-strong Vrosqui army marched through the main thoroughfare, their dense footfalls echoing off the spires.

Seeing this spectacle, made Mordax remember his warlike race. 'This is preparation for invasion. Right...' 

The bulk of the regiment consisted of males. Though smaller than the females, their ferocity barely contained beneath disciplined exteriors. Every stride and sudden motion hinted at violence waiting to be unleashed. Their claw-tipped hands ready to rend armor.

Xod stood out among them, for as a talented warrior, he had a female warrior partner by his side.

The hulking forms of the female warriors were interspersed among the males. They seemed more beast than humanoid, their organic armor blended seamlessly into corded muscles that could no doubt tear a person in half with little effort.

The sun's dim light played across armored flesh and flexing muscle in a gory symphony of power and carnage barely contained. These were not creatures designed merely for combat, but for utter domination on the field of war.

As they passed, not a single footstep fell out of perfect precision with the others. 

A chill ran through Mordax at first, then he felt a surge of pride at the disciplined awe this army commanded. Because commanding such an army was one of his responsibilities as a chronicler.

But for now his other responsibility waited him. To go into the Annalist spire, and remember all about his race's history from the chroniclers and relearn his mind abilities. 

Steeling his resolve, he resumed his journey toward the spire.

However, with every step, the distance he travelled became smaller. Unknowingly he halted. He took a look at his trembling hands, and suddenly, his vision began to warp and distort. 

In the Annalist spire, young Mordax entered a cavernous library to find Tagxart peering intently at an ancient tome. "You wished to instruct me in our race's past, Teacher?" he inquired.

Tagxart closed the book with a dull thud. "Indeed. A warrior draws strength from both knowing whence he came and adding to the glory of future triumphs."

He gestured towards a massive tapestry showcasing the Prime Chroniclers of the past, a total of six, including himself. "Might is the only claim to power that matters," he declared, his voice rising. "And these Paragons, knew that POWER is a weapon to wield, not a mere responsibility."

He loomed close to young Mordax, dropping his voice low. "You must understand real strength comes not from fanciful virtues, but from making others yield utterly to your merciless will. I will teach you to outthink and crush all in your path, as a true leader must."

Tagxart continued as they ascended the Annalist spire floor by floor, his eyes gleamed as he spoke of betrayals, schemes for dominance, and enemies obliterated without mercy. 

At last, they came to a sealed chamber, its roof was made out of glass to stars that were illuminating it.

Young Mordax pondered the vast ink-black void shown on the astronomy charts. "Why did our people first venture from our world into the stars, Master?"

Tagxart gazed out at the twinkling night sky. "Three reasons, boy. Curiosity first - we had always wondered what mysteries lay beyond. Second was necessity - Our homeworld could sustain our numbers no more, we required new planets to extract food from."

His voice took a harsh edge. "But most critical of all - survival. We knew if there were other intelligent races out among the galaxy, we wished them to be controlled. Contained. If that was not possible... Extermination."

A chill raced down Mordax's spine.

Tagxart turned his gaze upon him. "Do you now comprehend why we cast our fortune to the stars? The security that will be ours through undisputed power over all." Young Mordax felt the cold madness in his mentor's metallic, predatory gaze.

Grixi's voice cut through the fog in Mordax's mind, pulling him from his memories. "Brother, did you have another flashback? Come, let us not keep the Prime Chronicler waiting any longer." She extended a hand to him with a comforting smile.

Shaking off, he replied "Yes sister." He reached for her outstretched hand, taking a step forward.

But as he moved toward Grixi, the distance between them increased. He paused, bewildered, then tried again - only to slip farther away. 

Looking down in confusion, what he saw filled his core with icy dread. Though he faced his sister, his legs were twisted backwards. A howl of terror escaped his lips.

When next he looked up, Grixi had vanished like smoke, just like everything else. 

Where the towering spire had pierced the sky was now... something different. His eyes tracked upwards in mounting dread, taking in each colossal symbol as it emerged from the remains of the vanished tower.

The letters stacked upon the each other, coming together to spell out one terrible word: R E S P O N S I B I L I T Y.

No sooner had the words taken form than an unearthly droning pierced the air. He clamped hands over his ears against the bone-shaking sound as the massive letters detached and became unmoored.

First to fall was the massive "R", plummeting from the sky like the hammer of a vengeful god. 

He ran wildly, only by a hair did he avoid being flattened. The remaining letters tore loose just as violently, each hurtling towards the doomed figure below with nightmarish speed.

Somehow, impossibly, he evaded their pulverizing blows.

But as the onslaught continued without end, the grim truth soon dawned on him - he was not truly dodging their impacts. The letters' placements were herding him ever inward, limiting his options until there would be nowhere left to run.

Sure enough, as the last two stones loomed above, there was no escape. The tremendous "T" began its plummet, but he sprang into action just in time. With a raw-throated yell he raised both hands overhead and caught the towering emblem before it could crush him.

No sooner had he locked its weight overhead than the final "Y" joined it. He buckled under the unimaginable dual burden bearing down on him. Through sheer will he remained standing, but his muscles screamed and his vision swim.

"I refuse get crushed under just two letters!" he bellowed. "I am M-" he began, only to falter as a chilling realization struck. The words died on his tongue as he crashed onto bent knee.

Without identity to draw strength from, his other knee began to quake.

"Who am I?" He cried in desperation, the last embers of certainty flickering out in his eyes. Without anchor in self or purpose, all strength flowed from his veins like water. Without name or purpose, what reason had he left to struggle?

In that hollow moment, he understood he was no one. Tons of oblivion descended to bury him within. A profoundly sad fate for one who could not even recall themselves.

Then time slowed down to an impossible crawl. Beside him, a spirit materialized, adorned with a pale green aura, serene as a forest glade at dawn. It bore the exact features as his own.