Elythra — The Forcibly Awakened

Threads bind the corpse,
iron crowns the throat.
The grave refused her,
yet she never lived.

Elythra’s body was not left to rest. Torn from her grave, she was pieced together by hands that begged for mastery over death. Flesh was borrowed, veins rewoven, bolts driven into her throat to anchor the unnatural breath. But the Codex does not suffer such thefts.
 
It shackled her soul to the husk, dragging her back into a form that was not hers. Her eyes opened not with life but with rage, her blood dripping red scripture with each reluctant heartbeat. Those who gaze upon her swear they see the seams shift, as if the Codex itself is still stitching her, pulling her tighter with every breath she resists.
 
She endures as a warning — a figure neither dead nor alive, forced to walk in resentment eternal. Where others fell to betrayal, vow, or silence, Elythra was condemned to endurance, an unwilling echo of defiance. The Codex calls her the Forcibly Awakened, the lie of resurrection carved into flesh.