The whoever in question was an Unkindled, an Undead who had tried to link the First Flame, but, too weak to truly relight it, was burned to cinders, prolonging the Age of Fire by maybe a few minutes. This time, though, it was different. The nameless Unkindled had risen from his grave and left his mark on the world of Lothric, slaying the rebellious Lords of Cinder, Yhorm, Aldrich, the Abyss Watchers and Prince Lothric himself, taking their power and managing to fight toe-to-toe with the most powerful enemy he had ever faced. He liked his odds so far. The heavy armor he had took from one of the knights in the Cathedral of the Deep had served him extremely well on the way, his Drakeblood gauntlets and boots kept him moving with agility and grace, and his shield, stolen from a Lothric knight and infused with simple magic, protected him from many a deadly blow. However, no matter how much his armor protected him, he couldn't deny that he was in an uncomfortable situation. His Estus was running low and the lightning infused Lothric sword that had slain many a powerful creature seemed almost useless against his foe.
The Soul of Cinder, weakened, had invoked the soul of the original Lord of Cinder, the Lord of Sunlight Gwyn. His moves had doubled in speed and power, and the Unkindled had to do everything in his power to keep him from ending the fight in one hit. Then, an opportunity. The Soul lunged forward with its hand, trying to grab its opponent, but in one graceful movement, the Unkindled rolled under the move and ended up behind it. Desperate, he two-handed his weapon and slashed maniacally at his foe, forcing it on his knees. And with one final blow, the Soul of Cinder fell back and started dissolving. To the Unkindled's surprise, his own body jumped forward and grabbed the Lord's helmet, wresting it from its head. He didn't have time to see what was under the helm, as the Cinder finally dissolved into ash. Silence fell on the battlefield. Almost in a trance, the Unkindled took off his helm, one he had took from a Silver Knight up in Anor Londo, and lowered the Lord's helmet on his head, feeling the fiery warmth that still engulfed it.
The battle was over, but his ordeal wasn't. He turned towards the Bonfire of the First Flame, and slowly walked towards it. He looked around it and found a white summon sign. One touch, and out of the ash came the Fire Keeper, who, after sparing a soft smile at her Champion, turned towards the Flame and delicately took it from its nest. Darkness immediately started engulfing the Kiln, and for the first time the Unkindled felt true fear. He was scared of the pure darkness that rapidly approached. He fell over and scuttled towards the Fire Keeper, who gently layed her hands on the knight's shoulders and her head on his own, comforting him without a word.
He closed his eyes, and immersed himself in the feeling of his Fire Keeper affectionately cuddling him.
As the Dark covered everything, he felt the touch leave him, but this time he didn't feel fear. Only a gentle warmth permeating his body. Hold on. Warmth? Darkness had conquered the world, how could there be warmth? He opened his eyes and was immediately blinded by a powerful light. With a muffled yell of surprise, he fell over once again. With one hand over his visor, he slowly opened his eyes, and what he saw astounded him. The Sun! Houses! People! And as he turned around he saw an incredibly confused boy in some sort of weird outfit. Something had gone very, very wrong. And he was somewhere he was not supposed to be. For the first time, although he had helped other Unkindled in the form of a Phantom, he was truly in another world.