[Between Chaos.]
Michael materialized in a dimly lit hall, his gaze sweeping across the empty space, a bewildered frown etched on his face.
"I thought I died," he murmured, the words barely audible in the silence.
A voice, resonant and calm, echoed through the hall. "Your body died, but your soul survived."
Michael spun around, his eyes landing on a middle-aged man who was walking towards him, hands clasped behind his back, his expression utterly impassive.
"Who are you?" Michael asked, a knot of confusion tightening in his chest.
"I am known as Tartarus."
The man halted a few feet away, his gaze unwavering as he studied Michael.
"Tartarus? Typhon's father and the System—" Michael began, his mind racing.
"---No."
Tartarus's sharp interruption cut him off. "I did not create the System. I merely handed it to you."
Michael's confusion deepened. "You didn't create the System?"
"Indeed. I simply passed it on."
