Your Personalized Horror Rec!

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First, the new reality whispered his name: Hugo. Then it gave him a title: Suvarètt.

Yesterday, he was just a sarcastic engineer from Nantes, trying to put his life back together. Now a mysterious brand has been seared into his shoulder, marking him as an Outworlder in a dangerous, complex world he knows nothing about.

No one speaks his language. No one offers answers. Yet the brand on his shoulder has already decided how the world sees him: as prey, as ruler, or as something far worse.

In a harsh realm where industrial machinery coexists with magic, Hugo must learn to live anew. Mysterious music follows him, and something keeps knocking behind the mirrors. But the pressure of the title makes it harder to remain the man he once was.

“And why did that Imperial call me the Fiend?”

Excerpt

Hugo spun around and backhanded Tarnik across the nose with the revolver’s grip. Blood poured from the gash and his nostrils. Aggression boiled inside Hugo. His breathing quickened, yet his trembling hands betrayed him. Taking another life, even that of a chained prisoner, was still terrifying.

“You got a good hook,” Tarnik spat. “Shame you’re nothing in every other way. Just a miserable Tèou-lover.”

Hugo took a couple of steps back. To cross the line, he realized, he had to become something worse. Just for a moment. He just needed the strength to proceed with the execution.

“I wish I were just nothing,” Hugo said coldly and pulled off his jacket. He threw it on the floor.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tarnik frowned.

Hugo released the top buttons of his shirt and pulled the fabric aside. He bared his left shoulder, revealing a massive black brand. Tarnik’s breathing quickened into hoarse gasps. Filled with primal terror, his eyes went wide.

For Hugo, this was unexpected. He had expected hostility and more curses. Instead, he encountered pure fear. His heart became frighteningly calm. Absolute mastery over the situation filled him.

“When you came to this land, did you ever imagine who would kill you?” Hugo asked emotionlessly.

“This… this!...” The words barely escaped the prisoner’s lips.

“Yes, Tarnik… It’s exactly what you think,” Hugo confirmed, taking slow steps toward him.

“Immitant! Oh, Aarva the Merciful! Save me, a sinner! Protect my soul from the branded fiend!”the prisoner screamed.

Hugo’s trembling and fear were gone. Only an intoxicating feeling of absolute superiority remained. Frightened, Tarnik closed his eyes. The last thing he saw was the shoulder with the cursed sigil.

A shot rang out.