The world ended in fire long before he was born.
And it would end again, in him.
There was a storm the night Kael died—one that cracked the sky wide open and bled light across the horizon like a wound. The warlord who ruled the last free cities called it divine judgment. The rebels said it was the Ancestors weeping. Kael? He had no time for poetry.
He was too busy choking on his own blood.
And yet, in that final moment, as the blade twisted in his gut and the tower collapsed around him, Kael saw something he could not explain: a screen, faint and flickering, hovering just behind his eyelids.
💀 [SYSTEM ERROR: HOST TERMINATED]
💾 [BACKUP SOUL: LOCATED]
🔄 [REBOOTING…]
🌿 [NEW HOST COMPATIBLE — "Kael, of the Fallen Line"]
[☀ Welcome back, Heir of Embers.]
⸻
When he opened his eyes again, Kael was a child—ten years old, barefoot, standing on cracked earth under a sky he did not recognize. His bones ached with memories that didn't belong to him. Or maybe they did. Memories of burning castles. Of betrayal. Of a woman with ash in her hair who whispered his name like a prayer before plunging a dagger into his heart.
And worse: the taste of power.
Not the kind handed down by titles or crowns. This was older. Deeper. The kind etched into bloodlines and sealed with sacrifice. It came with pain. With scars that refused to heal. With a voice, now embedded deep in his skull, cold and clinical and endlessly watching.
🧭 [Main Objectives Activated]
— Reclaim the Ancestral Throne (0%)
— Restore the Shattered Bloodline (0/7)
— Liberate the Sleeping Hearts (0/100)
— Awaken the Forgotten Realms (0/9)
⚔ [Trauma Modifier: Generational Curse Active]
💔 [Romantic Memory Fragments: 1/???]
🏰 [Kingdom Founding Opportunity: Locked — Requirements Not Met]
⸻
This time, Kael knew better.
He would not fight only for glory. Not just to survive. He had lived once in a world where power consumed everything—love, legacy, even truth. This time, he would do more than endure.
He would build.
He would love.
And when the end came again—as it always did—he would make damn sure the world remembered who had walked its ruins.