After eighteen years of uninterrupted slumber within the hallowed confines of the royal palace, Kael Rivenhart at last stirred from his sleep.
He had remained unconscious since the moment of his birth, his first breath claimed by fate itself.
Now, as his eyelids fluttered open, the world reassembled itself in fragments, light, weight, sound, each sensation crashing into him like a long-buried memory striving to resurface.
He took a sharp breath.
The air was cool and subtly scented with incense and aged stone, filling his lungs in a manner that felt almost excruciating.
His chest rose and fell too rapidly, as if his body were uncertain how to execute such a basic function after so many years of immobility.
Somewhere in the vicinity, a low hum reverberated through the chamber, ancient and unwavering, akin to a spell that had never ceased its watch.
Cold marble pressed against his bare feet as he gradually rose from an ornate bed fashioned from ivory and gold. The sheets slipped away silently, embroidered with sigils designed to ward off decay and despair.
His legs quivered under his weight, muscles protesting as if they had been newly forged only moments prior.
Each step felt intentional, measured, as though the world demanded evidence that he truly existed.
His limbs felt strange, as if they belonged to another individual.
He raised his hands before his face, examining them with quiet incredulity, long fingers, unblemished skin untouched by blade or toil, and faint golden markings that pulsed like embers beneath the surface.
They traced elegant, unfamiliar designs along his wrists and palms, glowing gently in sync with his heartbeat.
A heartbeat.
The realization hit him with sudden intensity. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm beneath his ribs. It was strong. Alive. Real.
The chamber around him gradually came into focus. Towering pillars of white stone ascended toward a vaulted ceiling adorned with depictions of ancient heroes and fallen gods.
Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting fragmented hues across the floor, with crimson, sapphire, and gold swirling around his feet.
Candles adorned the walls, their flames steady, as if time itself had paused to hold its breath.
At the far end of the chamber, a circle of runes was etched deeply into the floor, their luminescence now dimming, having fulfilled their purpose at last.
Cracks radiated outward from the edge of the circle, evidence of the tremendous power that had been contained there for almost two decades.
Kael's gaze remained fixed on the runes, and something stirred within him. A pressure built behind his eyes. A whisper lingered at the periphery of his thoughts.
Fleeting images appeared: shattered crowns, burning skies, a battlefield drenched in blood illuminated by golden light.
He staggered, clutching the bedpost as the visions dissipated as swiftly as they had come, leaving only a dull ache and a profound sense of loss.
Beyond the sanctum's doors, the palace stood in silence, oblivious to the fact that its greatest secret had finally been revealed to him.
Kael frowned at the unfamiliar room he had entered, struggling to comprehend his current location.
He scratched his head in bewilderment and shielded his eyes, as the light in the hallways was as bright as the sun.
Kael Rivenhart: "Who… am I? And where… am I?"
He rotated in place, examining the expanse of the room he occupied. The chamber was immense, significantly larger than any typical room.
Its walls were adorned with veins of pure gold, inscribed with ancient symbols that glimmered softly in the torchlight.
Enormous windows framed the sky outside, with stained glass illustrating a crowned figure towering over kneeling nations, some showing reverence, while others displayed fear.
The figure's visage had been intentionally left vague, as if the artists themselves had hesitated to define it.
Kael took a hesitant step forward, unaware that he was in no danger.
The sound of his footfall reverberated too loudly, bouncing off stone and marble until it felt as if the room itself recognized his presence.
He flinched, halting as a wave of dizziness washed over him slowly and disorientingly. The world tilted, then stabilized.
He gritted his teeth and pressed on, each step a subtle act of defiance against the weakness that threatened to overtake him.
As he progressed, he observed additional details, rows of towering braziers embedded in the walls, their flames flickering with a pale, unnatural glow.
Chains of silver and obsidian dangled between the pillars, each link inscribed with runes of binding and suppression.
Kael Rivenhart: "This… doesn't feel like a prison, It feels like a shrine."
Drawn by distant voices, Kael moved toward the chamber doors. They opened at his touch without resistance.
Beyond lay a long corridor lined with statues, each bearing his likeness at different ages. Infant. Child. Adolescent. Adult.
His breath caught.
Kael Rivenhart: "They… were waiting for me."
After taking ten careful steps, he stopped. Quiet voices that Kael could hear drifted in from a nearby room.
Maid One: "He has not yet awakened, my King."
Kael stiffened at the sound of the maid's voice; it was the first time he had heard anyone speak since regaining consciousness.
King: "A pity, I devoted eighteen years to nurturing the sin of greed within him. To see it bear no fruit would be… disappointing."
Maid One: "Please grant him patience, Your Majesty. The sin is powerful. Even now, it may be testing his will."
King: "There is no luxury of patience. My life will end in five years. I require an heir, one strong enough to rule a world that devours the weak."
Kael's heart pounded in his chest, each beat loud in his ears as he listened.
Hearing them talk made his nerves tighten, unease creeping through him after so long without a single voice to break the silence.
Kael Rivenhart: "They're talking about me."
He pressed his back against the wall, his thoughts spiraling as his mind raced through a dozen possibilities at once.
Kael Rivenhart: "Sin? Greed?"
A wave of discomfort enveloped him. Although he could not entirely comprehend the reason, Kael pivoted and ran.
Still dressed in royal silk and adorned with gold-threaded robes, he dashed through the palace gates and into the expansive streets beyond.
The city extended infinitely, with towering spires, lively markets, and residents who halted the moment they detected his presence.
As soon as his foot crossed the threshold of the palace, a sensation awakened within him.
A powerful force coursed through his body, causing Kael to falter and drop to one knee.
His chest felt as though it were on fire, as an intense pressure enveloped his very soul.
An aura, thick, insatiable, and a mix of gold and black, burst forth from him, spreading outward like a massive tidal wave. Ten times. Twenty times.
The air howled in agony.
Kael grasped his head, his teeth clenched as a pain unlike any he had ever experienced ripped through him.
Kael Rivenhart: "W-What is this…? Is this… greed? Or is it poison?"
Surrounding him, merchants crumpled, guards knelt, and even the far-off mountains appeared to yield under the weight.
Throughout the world, perceptive entities turned ashen as they sensed it. A presence. An incarnation.
Kael let out a scream as his aura kept growing, engulfing the skyline. Deep within him, a voice murmured, not malevolent, but ravenous. Just take.
the avarice is attempting to dominate his spirit as he cries out in torment.
Kael clenched his fists: "No, I don't even know what I want!"
The sky grew darker, a deep, bruised indigo bleeding across the horizon, as golden streaks of light pierced through the heavy clouds like jagged spears.
Wind whipped around Kael Rivenhart, tugging at his cloak and rattling the skeletal branches of the nearby trees.
In that moment, the air seemed to thrum with an otherworldly energy, resonating deep within his bones, as if the world itself was bending toward him, acknowledging his presence.
Kael stood frozen, feeling a heat surge from the core of his being outward, twisting and reshaping him from the inside.
His once-pristine white hair began to darken, strand by strand, flowing like ink into shadow.
His yellow eyes, sharp and calculating, burned brighter for a heartbeat before the golden hue drained, leaving twin pools of smouldering red fire.
He felt power coursing through him, filling every vein, every nerve, a terrifying amalgamation of desires, ambitions, and avarice that had driven him his entire life.
It was no longer just Kael Rivenhart who stood there, he had become something else. Something more.
The culmination of every craving, every selfish impulse, every hunger he had ever felt now coalesced into a singular, undeniable presence.
He could feel it in his chest, an unrelenting pulse, the heartbeat of the sin he had long embodied without knowing it.
The world seemed to bend around him, the golden light no longer mere sunlight but a coronation, acknowledging his ascension.
His lips curled into a faint, predatory smile as he realized the truth: his metamorphosis was complete.
The man who had walked the earth as Kael Rivenhart had ended, and in his place stood the living embodiment of greed itself.
Every whisper of desire, every unspoken wish, every covetous glance ever cast in his direction now fed his being.
The world would know him. not as Kael, but as the sin of greed incarnate.
And as the clouds swirled above, parting to let the golden streaks shine down upon him, he felt the intoxicating thrill of absolute power settle like fire in his veins.
The transformation was not just physical; it was a declaration.
Kael Rivenhart was no longer a man. He was a force, a singularity of desire, and the world would tremble under the weight of his ambition.