Kael made his way through the twisting streets of the Old District, where the neon of the modern city barely touched the cobblestones below. Here, the past lingered like a stubborn shadow. Dusty signs creaked in the wind, and the air smelled faintly of ancient ink and damp stone. The Old Library—a massive, crumbling structure rumored to contain forbidden knowledge—towered above him, its gothic arches glowing faintly with enchanted wards that kept the careless and the curious out.
Inside, Kael moved silently past stacks of tablets, books, and scrolls that had survived centuries of neglect. He had always been drawn to relics of the old world, drawn to whispers of forgotten power. Today, he was looking for patterns, connections, anything that might explain the strange anomaly in his code.
He stopped before a stone pedestal, atop which rested an ancient tablet etched with symbols that seemed to shift when unobserved. Kael reached out, fingertips hovering over the surface. The symbols pulsed softly, as if alive. When he touched them, a faint hum reverberated through his body. A vision struck him: landscapes of impossible geometry, beings made of light, gods walking among mortals, shaping destinies with hands like storms and fire.
Kael staggered back, breath quickening. He had read about myths—stories meant to entertain or teach—but this was different. The tablet wasn't just a story. It was a bridge, a message, a key. Something inside him resonated with the symbols, a part of him that had been dormant, waiting.
He ran his fingers over the tablet again, tracing a spiral that seemed to glow beneath his touch. Words whispered to him, not in any language he recognized, yet their meaning was clear: "You are awakened. You are chosen. You must step beyond the world you know."
Kael's mind reeled. Chosen? Awakened? He had never believed in destiny, in prophecy, in anything so grandiose. And yet, the pull in his chest told him that the world he had understood—the one of circuits, logic, and code—was no longer sufficient. Something ancient, something powerful, was calling him, and it was beginning to stir.