The dreams began that night.
Kael stood in a place without a sky. The void above shimmered faintly with the memory of stars like a wound in the world had tried to stitch itself shut and failed. The ground was smooth and black, like polished glass stretching to infinity in all directions. It reflected him dimly, imperfectly—his face fractured, his outline blurred.
He was not alone.
A figure stood across from him. Tall. Wrapped in a tattered cloak that fluttered despite the absence of wind. Its face was hidden in shadow beneath a hood that seemed to devour light.
Kael took a breath and heard it echo tenfold—like a chorus of whispers.
"Seed-bearer," it said, voice echoing from every direction at once. "You have begun."
Kael tried to speak but his mouth didn't move. His breath came sharp and thin.
"You were not the first."
"You will not be the last."
He felt something in his chest pull, like his Core was being drawn forward. Lines of heat stitched from his ribs to his spine.
"The gate trembles."
"And through the fracture, seven rise."
Kael's vision blurred.
"One will ascend. Six will fall."
And then the ground beneath Kael cracked.
He awoke choking on a breath he hadn't taken. Sweat drenched his skin, cold as rainwater. The system was already speaking as his eyes adjusted to the pale moonlight streaming in through his window.
He sat up in bed, gasping. Sweat clung to his skin like oil. The room around him was unchanged—his small cot, the cracked basin, the high window. But something felt different.
System Alert: Entity Contact Logged
Classification: Unknown
Designation: [REDACTED]
Response Level: Passive
Tier Update Path Fragmented — You are now part of an Inheritance Chain
Count of Current Inheritors: 7
Only One Shall Reach Tier Ω
Warning: Ascension to Tier 3 will trigger World Awareness Event
Progress: Tier 2 – Catalyst of Undoing
Resonance: 3/10
Kael swung his legs over the edge of the cot. His fingers ached with energy. The corrupted flame beneath his skin flickered along his veins. He closed his hand slowly, forcing the power down.
Seven.
He wasn't alone.
There were others—other beings like him with systems born from something older than the divine lattice. And if the system was right, they were not allies.
They were rivals.
Or worse—reflections.
He hadn't slept in peace since Tier 2.
He doubted he ever would again.
By morning, the monastery was no longer whispering—it was watching. The bells rang, the prayers were spoken, the incense burned, but something had changed.
Kael passed through the corridors like a phantom. Monks stepped aside when he approached. Even the senior brothers gave him cautious, darting glances. No one asked about the pilgrimage. No one dared.
He'd given them a convenient lie—and they'd accepted it like a drowning man grabs driftwood.
But the system hadn't forgotten.
System Prompt: Divine interference detected.
Local holy nodes are fluctuating.
A Seer has entered the region.
Kael's blood ran cold.
A Seer. Not a priest. Not a scribe. A Seer.
One of the Church's "truth-finders." Those who didn't just cast spells—they read systems.
Kael moved quickly.
The scriptorium was empty this early. Dust motes swirled in the shafts of golden morning light. Kael moved toward the far shelves, reaching the tomes on system architecture—most were outdated, censored, or simplified for common study.
He pulled a volume labeled The Flow of Core and Consequence and flipped quickly.
Page after page discussed divine system integration. How alignment was shaped not by intention, but resonance. How purity of will attracted the Lightmother's grace.
Kael scoffed.
He flipped again—and found it.
A page written in older glyphs. Fragmented. But the words hit like a hammer.
"Of the anomalies—those who form cores outside the sanctioned —beware. For not all Cores are born of this world. Some are carried."
Carried.
Carriers.
Was that what he was?
His hand clenched around the edge of the tome, breath sharp.
He wasn't simply broken.
He was other.
Later that day, the Seer arrived.
She didn't announce herself with trumpets or guards. She didn't need to. Her presence rolled ahead of her like a veil of pressure, sending birds scattering from the courtyard trees and stilling the tongues of even the boldest monks.
Sister Alira of the Circle of Sight, clad in white robes trimmed with violet thread. Her eyes were covered by a gauze band, but Kael could feel her gaze—like sunlight filtered through ice.
She was younger than Kael expected—perhaps in her thirties. But her eyes were covered with a sheer white band, embroidered with glyphs of clarity and judgment. Her robes were unadorned, marked only by a silver symbol of the Lightmother hanging from her belt.
The first thing she did upon entering the gates was kneel.
Her lips moved in silent prayer. The wind stirred faintly. The wards on the monastery's outer ring hummed.
She radiated serenity. But it was a stillness that suggested power restrained, not absent. The kind of calm that only came from knowing that if the world broke, you would be the one left standing.
She smiled at the monks. Blessed them with a whisper. Spoke softly, but with conviction. When she walked, her sandals made no sound on the stones.
Kael watched her from a shadowed alcove.
But it didn't matter.
Because the moment she entered the courtyard, she stopped walking—and turned her head directly toward him.
System Alert: High-grade divine user detected
Active scan avoided via [Witchmarked]
Warning: Extended exposure to this entity may degrade concealment traits
"You burn strangely, child."
Kael didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
Her smile didn't fade, but her brow furrowed slightly. "You have not spoken a lie. But you have hidden a truth."
She walked past him without pause.
But as she passed, her head turned—slightly. Her covered eyes angled toward where he stood, half-hidden behind the archway.
"Strange," she said softly. "You walk in silence, yet you sing."
Kael said nothing.
Her voice held no threat. Just certainty.
She continued on.
That evening, the monastery buzzed with her arrival. The abbot held a formal welcome, praised her wisdom. The inner chapel was illuminated with golden flame. Kael stood at the back, near the wall, among the lesser monks. The priests fawned over her presence. But Kael remained quiet, still, calculating.
She had sensed something.
But not enough to act.
Yet.
Sister Alira addressed them with a smile.
"I do not come bearing accusations," she said, hands folded. "Only questions."
Her voice was clear and warm, like a spring breeze over frozen stone. "There are tremors in the foundation of our faith. Small things, at first—flickers, misfires, oddities in the sacred flame."
Kael watched the crowd shift uneasily.
"These things do not begin in error. They begin in change. In a soul that has turned sideways to the world."
Her words hung in the air like smoke.
And then her head turned again—facing Kael directly.
"Change is not always evil," she said. "But it is always dangerous."
That night, Kael walked the outer garden paths alone.
The stars were dull behind cloud cover. The moon a thin sliver. He reached the central fountain—a cracked relic said to be blessed by the Lightmother's tears.
He sat at its edge.
And for the first time in weeks, he spoke aloud to the system.
"What are they?" he asked. "The other six."
Response: Inheritors. Marked by fragmentation. Granted divergent paths through anomaly.
Systems active: 7
System Alignment: Varied
Outcome Rule: Only one may reach Tier Ω. All others will terminate.
Kael's throat tightened.
So it was a contest. A silent war. One no one else could even see.
And somehow, it had already begun.
Would you like to view Path Fragment?
Kael accepted.
A visual bloomed in the air before him—red lines on black. A jagged web, each branch flaring with nodes, some dull, others burning faintly.
His path was marked: Infamy > Catalyst of Undoing
The others were labeled only by code.
⚠️ 02 – Spite-Bound
⚠️ 03 – Ash-Wreathed
⚠️ 04 – Null-Flame
⚠️ 05 – Vow-Eater
⚠️ 06 – He Who Forgets
⚠️ 07 – REDACTED
Each bore a different energy. A different hunger.
He stared at the names until the image faded.
That night, the dream returned.
Only this time, he wasn't alone in the abyss.
A figure stood on the other side of the chasm. Human-shaped, but too tall. Too thin. Its limbs too long, its head slightly tilted. There was no face—just smooth darkness beneath a hood of shadow.
"Do you hear it yet?"
Kael's voice trembled. "Who are you?"
"You carry the shard. The chain-break. The corruption seed."
"You feed it. Shape it. Unshackle it."
"But it is not yours alone."
Kael stepped back. "What do you mean?"
"You are one of seven."
"Only one will finish the path."
Kael's Core burned. Not painfully—but with clarity. Purpose.
"Your world is a cage. You were not meant to open the gate."
"But you will."
Kael woke with blood on his lips—he'd bitten down during the dream.
The system was active.
System Log: Entity Contact Registered
Designation: REDACTED
Path Status: Splinter Tier Inheritance Potential 1/7
Warning: Tier 3 progression will trigger world awareness event.
Current Tier: 2 (Catalyst of Undoing)
Resonance: 3/10
Kael sat up, his mind racing.
He wasn't the only anomaly.
And only one would survive the path.
His breath steadied.
Good.
The next morning, Sister Alira requested to speak with Kael.
They sat alone in the inner library, surrounded by old texts and fractured candlelight. Dust curled lazily through the beams of sun filtering in through stained glass.
Kael's hands rested on his knees, still as stone. Her blindfold shimmered faintly with an unseen rune.
"You've read much," she said without preamble. "More than most acolytes twice your age."
Kael didn't respond.
"I've seen systems go rogue before. Corrupted cores. Demonic resonance. But this…" She leaned in slightly. "You don't resonate like a heretic."
"Maybe your definitions are flawed."
Her lips quirked. "Perhaps."
A moment passed.
"Tell me something, Kael. If you could change the world's system… would you?"
He didn't lie.
"Yes."
She nodded slowly, as though confirming something to herself. "I thought so."
"You are not possessed," she said. "You are not cursed. Not by demons. Not by spirits."
Kael tilted his head. "Then what am I?"
She paused.
She stood. "I don't know what you are. But I don't believe you're lost. Not yet."
Her honesty startled him.
"You do not hate," she continued. "You do not rejoice in sin. You do not weep. But you do not lie. That's why you scare them."
Kael said nothing.
"You are an echo," she said softly. "Something left behind—or sent ahead."
Her hand reached forward, not to strike, but to offer.
"I could help you. We could study this… thing inside you. We could make sense of it together."
Kael stared at her palm.
Then stood.
"I'm past needing help," he said.
And left.
System Alert: User resisted divine alignment probe
[Witchmarked] and [Desecrator] hold at 68% efficiency
Warning: Continued proximity to this Seer may accelerate Revelation Event
That night, Kael returned to the chapel.
The statue of the Lightmother had fully cracked. A piece of the arm lay broken on the floor. The candles failed to light.
Not from flame. Not from force.
From presence.
Kael sat before it, unmoving, as the system shimmered across his vision.
You are known.
The world adjusts.
The hunt will begin.
System Prompt: Would you like to suppress empathy?
[Yes] — Optimize path to Tier 3
[No] — Retain emotional drift (may affect decisions)
Kael stared at the prompt.
He thought of Emil. Of Jace. Of the flicker in Sister Alira's voice when she said not yet.
Kael considered it.
He closed the prompt without choosing.
Not tonight.
Let the others burn their souls clean.
He still wanted to feel.