" So this is what my Soul Realm looks like."
The words came from Azreal's mouth, quiet but steady.
He stood at the center of a vast internal world—an endless plane of pale stone veined with slow-moving sigils that pulsed like a living heart. Above him stretched an obsidian sky fractured with faint prismatic light, as though countless realities were pressing against its surface, waiting to be born.
In another life—
in another time—
Waking up in a place like this would have filled him with terror.
But he had been prepared.
Today was his fifteenth birthday.
The day the Existence Framework would awaken.
The day the legacies of his past selves would stir.
A presence brushed against his thoughts.
You're calm, came a bright, familiar voice.
Thena.
She stood several paces away, her draconic form sleeker, lighter in scale, her eyes alight with unrestrained wonder as she turned slowly in place, taking everything in.
"I think it's beautiful," she said aloud. "It feels like something unfinished—like it's waiting for us to decide what it becomes."
Another presence settled between them.
Stable. Grounded.
Saldo.
He folded his arms, eyes closed, as if listening not to the world—but to the rules holding it together.
"It's a shared Soul Realm," Saldo said after a moment. "Or… it was. It's already starting to separate."
Azreal felt it then.
Threads—warm, unbreakable—stretching between the three of them.
We're still connected, Thena thought, relief flooding the bond.
Before any of them could speak again—
" ARE YOU DONE DAYDREAMING?!"
The voice struck like a hammer against existence itself.
The sky cracked.
Reality bent.
Three thrones rose from nothing.
The leftmost throne formed first—constructed entirely of interlocking bones, fused together into a grotesque yet regal seat. Upon it sat a skeletal figure draped in sickly green robes, hollow eye sockets blazing with necrotic light.
Azreal felt recognition burn through his soul.
Death.
The second throne writhed into being—alive. Scales, fur, feathers, and flesh constantly shifted across its surface, entire creatures being born and unmade in seconds. Seated upon it was a figure whose form refused to remain singular.
Creation.
The final throne appeared last.
Simple. Balanced. Perfect.
And the moment it manifested, the trembling of the Soul Realm ceased.
Saldo exhaled slowly.
Balance.
" Death," Creation said gently, her voice layered with a thousand echoes, "be easy on the boy."
She smiled—warm and terrifying.
"After all… he is us."
Thena's breath caught.
Memories—fragmented and violent—flooded all three of them at once.
A universe collapsing into absolute silence.
A world screaming as it was torn into existence.
Gods kneeling as judgment was passed without mercy.
Azreal dropped to one knee.
Thena staggered, clutching her chest.
Saldo stood firm—barely.
"We were…" Azreal whispered.
"Primordials," Death said simply.
"Creators. Monsters. Origins," Creation added.
"And prisoners of certainty," Balance finished.
The air shuddered.
Then—
[Existence Framework Initializing…]
The words engraved themselves directly into their souls.
Pain followed. Then clarity.
[Azreal]
Class Identified: Bone Mage
Trait Detected: Organic Synthesis — Dormant
The lich chuckled.
"Bones," he said. "A fitting beginning."
Across the realm—
[Thena]
Class Identified: Beast Tamer
Trait Detected: Organic Severance — Dormant
Creatures manifested instinctively around her—spectral beasts bowing in reverence before dissolving into light.
Thena stared at her hands.
"I feel like I could pull them apart," she whispered, "and rebuild them better."
Finally—
[Saldo]
Class Identified: Magic Warrior
Trait Detected: Unbreakable Trinity Bond — Active
The Soul Realm stabilized completely.
The three of them felt it.
Thoughts flowed freely.
Emotions resonated.
Power synchronized.
Saldo frowned.
"This trait…" he said slowly. "It's not just a bond. It's a failsafe."
Balance nodded.
"You are allowed to grow apart," he said. "But never truly alone."
Azreal clenched his fists.
"I don't want to become you," he said, lifting his gaze to the thrones.
"I want to choose who I become."
Thena nodded fiercely.
"Me too."
Saldo met their eyes.
"We'll walk different paths," he said. "But we'll meet again."
Silence followed.
Then Creation laughed softly.
"Good," she said. "Then go. Learn. Fail. Become something new."
Death leaned back on his throne.
"And when you return," he murmured, "we'll see what you chose to become."
The Soul Realm began to fracture—splitting cleanly into three distinct domains.
As consciousness pulled them back toward the waking world, a final message echoed through all three of their beings:
[Legacy Acknowledged]
[Choice Granted]
High above all realms—
Existence watched.
And smiled.
The Era of Chaos did not begin with war.
It began with choice.