Korren didn’t remember his name.

He hadn’t for some time now. He didn’t remember how long it had been since his existence had been anything but wandering in the howling winds and darkness. Somewhere, far in the recesses of what was left of his mind, he knew that this place was wrong, that he shouldn’t be here, that safety was anywhere but here.

Onward he went, stumbling ever onwards, further into the abyss.

<Please. Let’s go back.>

His head whipped to the side. The little drone. His little drone. His Ghost, yes, he remembered now.

“I don’t know where home is.”

<I know you don’t. And I’m so sorry. I can’t help you if we don’t leave.>

“How do we leave?”

<I… I don’t know. We came through a portal. There has to be another one. Somewhere. Or we could make one.>

“How long have we been here?”

<Too long. Far too long.>

Korren looked around, his body turning as if he was underwater. He was surrounded by ruins. Fractured columns, shattered mosaics, sweeping staircases. All drifting in the void. There were no monsters nearby at the moment. He couldn’t remember what the monsters looked like, only that he had to be on the lookout for them. His fingers clenched tighter around his sword - Oh, I have a sword? I have a sword - and tugged on the strap that kept his bow on his back.

“Let’s go this way.”

<No, we should go back the way we came. The way out might be there.>

“The landscape is constantly shifting. There’s no point in trying to make sense of anything.”

The moment of lucidity shocked him. But it slipped away just as quickly as it came, and Korren felt his eyelids droop as he staggered forward. His Ghost sighed and followed. They climbed a staircase that slowly turned as they walked, and down became up, even has his boots stayed planted on the marble. Screams swam through the haze past his helmet, but he had grown used to them by now. The screams were all that were. Screams, his Ghost, his boots, his sword - Oh, right, I have a sword, - and the debris.

<Korren, something’s moving over there.>

“Who’s Korren?”

But he saw it. A monster. Not a big one like some of the ones he’d slain. He couldn’t remember exactly how they looked, but he knew that they’d been big. No, this was small, a whisp of terror that moved between chunks of limestone like a moth. Instinct told Korren to sheath the sword on his belt and nock an arrow. His breathing grew even heavier as he drew the bow, just the mere action of tugging on the cord exhausting him.

The monster stopped moving. It held still in the murk, almost unnaturally still. It was as if it saw him, the orb’s gaze shaking Korren to his core. He wanted to scream. His mouth opened, but his voice caught in his throat, frozen in place as the monster glided towards him.

<SHOOT IT>

His arms shook as he raised the bow. Could he shoot it? The brightness had no teeth and carried no blade. It had no form other than that of a shifting sphere of energy, and despite all of this it nothing had ever terrified him more. The bow felt as if it weighed more than a planet, and Korren’s body betrayed him as it slowly disarmed the arrow from the string.

The creature floated an arm’s length in front of him. It was an orb of shifting, furious existence and reason. It had no face, and yet it it looked as if it was smirking.

It spoke.

“Another Dante comes to my humble abode. Do you seek providence, my weary traveler?

<His name is Korren,> his Ghost whimpered.

“My… my name is Dante…” Korren breathed. Yes. That was his name. He remembered now. Dante. The name rang true in his head. Identity. He cherished it like a child presented with a long-lost favorite toy. He felt as if he would weep.

“What are you?” He asked with reverence.

“You can call me Virgil,” the monster said.

<Korren, please...>

He did not remember what the word Korren meant.

"Draw your sword," Virgil commanded him. "You will have need of it if we are to brave the screams."

"I... oh. I have a sword."