Man, I was utterly spent, but I couldn't let myself drop. I was gripping that black sword, feeling its raw, dark energy vibrating under my fingers like a live wire. The whole tower was wrecked, but my mind was laser-focused, completely disconnected from the noise. I was operating purely on adrenaline and the terrifying knowledge I'd spent the last few minutes confirming.
I'm a guy who deals in facts. Cold, hard, calculated facts. That's what kept me alive as a mage, and honestly, it's the only reason I haven't totally lost it in this weird new life. But lately, the facts just stopped checking out. The reincarnation story—the whole 'second chance' thing—felt like a flimsy cover story now. It was too easy, too tidy for the cosmic chaos I was knee-deep in. I kept trying to fit my life into that simple box, but the lid wouldn't close.
