Some time ago, alternate memories began to overlap in my mind; memories of a different world began to surface, flooding my consciousness.
That place, present in my dreams, came from a different land—from cities illuminated by a different kind of energy.
From machines capable of crossing the skies and plowing the seas, with towers so tall they seemed to defy my own perception.
And, above all, there was a dazzling figure at the pinnacle of that world: the hero.
At first, I thought they were mere allusions or even a curse cast by a necromancer.
But it was strange—those dreams were too vivid.
Every night I woke up remembering unfamiliar faces, impossible places, and my emotions would overflow.
But as time went on, I understood the truth.
That wasn't a dream.
It was another life.
An existence as real as the one I was living now, but so fantastical that I was afraid to believe it... but at some point, the personality of a strange figure began to blend with my own.
