My name was Aries. Yeah, like the God of War. Ironic, right? Because in this world, I'm locked in an actual war against beings beyond comprehension. All thanks to the boredom of twelve cosmic creators.
I died in my sleep, murdered by my girlfriend of five years.
Sad? Sure. But I'm kind of desensitized now. After that charming betrayal, I woke up reincarnated into this world as an 18 year old named Tysis Cage.
Tysis stood at a solid six feet tall. His frame was athletic, naturally lean honed by survival, not comfort. At just eighteen, he already carried the weight of someone who'd died once… and come back sharper.
His hair was silvery ash-gray, wild yet regal, tousled in a way that looked both untamed and deliberate. Strands fell slightly across his brow, framing a face that was young, but cold with memory. His eyes? Strikingly heterochromatic—one a deep, calculating violet, the other a piercing amethyst-red, hiding a storm behind its calm surface.
He rarely showed emotion. Stoic. Still. But beneath that stillness was fire—quiet, simmering… waiting to burn.
Despite his casual clothing, a black athletic tee, fitted jeans, and worn black tennis shoes—Tysis gave off a noble, battle-tested presence.
When the Rends first opened, the creatures they released killed my parents.
I didn't even get the chance to know them. The System filled me in on that grim bit of trauma the moment I landed.
Anyway, I'm on my way to the Ascendant Order to figure out my Charism. Those are the powers the Primordials grant to help humans survive divine monstrosities.
The Ascendant Order evaluates every newly awakened Scion. They test, record, and classify each Charism. It's nature, strength, and limits before logging it into the Vault of Manifestations: a sealed archive of every known Charism in existence.
Their agents, called Evaluators, are basically supernatural analysts with the power to detect, measure, and assess any ability. Plus spot corruption or unstable traits before they spiral.
The Order also acts as a regulatory force. If a Scion's Charism goes haywire or threatens others, the Wardens step in. These guys are experienced, combat specialists who wield Charisms of their own, granted by the Order through some… mysterious means.
I paused just before the Ascendant Order's building.
It loomed like a gothic fortress. Towering black spires reaching into the sky, crimson flags fluttering with the golden seal of the Order. The walls glittered with embedded mana gems, casting fractured rainbows across the plaza.
"Well… this is ominous.." I muttered, glancing around. Oddly empty, given the chaos outside. Lucky for me.
I pushed open the heavy doors and grinned. "Only three people in line? Today's my lucky day."
The first to step up was a young man with black hair and green eyes. He placed his hand on the Manarium Lens, a crystalline artifact carved with divine runes, designed to identify a person's Charism.
The Lens flared pale blue, accented with white. A symbol formed, an open book with a key overlay.
"You have a Wisdom Charism!" the Evaluator announced, smiling wide.
The guy fist pumped the air, nearly trembling with excitement.
"Rank C: Mental Fortress. Increases resistance to mental manipulation and illusions, but prolonged use may isolate you emotionally." The Evaluator's tone softened. "Still, you have potential. Higher Wisdom Charisms could be within your reach. Congratulations."
"Thank you, sir!" the guy said with a grin, bowing slightly as he stepped aside.
Next in line: a striking woman with silver hair and crimson eyes. She moved with calm precision, placing her hand gently on the Lens. It flared with deep violet and midnight black. A crescent moon, half-obscured by clouds, appeared.
"A Darkness Charism…" the Evaluator murmured, surprised. "It's been a while since I've seen one of these."
The woman exhaled slowly. Relief flickered across her face.
"Rank A: Shadow Control. You can manipulate existing shadows to attack, defend, or trap enemies. And…" His voice brightened. "You've received a God's Mark. Umbra herself has acknowledged you. Congratulations."
Her crimson eyes widened for a moment, then she nodded. "Thank you."
The next guy was clearly in trouble.
Disheveled black hair. Deep bags under his blue eyes. Veins of black spreading across his skin.
Overbinding.
When a Scion closes a Rend, they can absorb Essence Fragments from its core. These strengthen their Charism—unlocking new powers, deeper techniques. But take in too many, and they begin to Overbind, becoming so attuned to their god's domain that they start losing themselves.
Overbound Scions called Corrupted, are hunted by the Order without mercy.
The Evaluator scowled. "Zairus. Overbinding again?"
Zairus gave a weak laugh. "W-what? No! I'm fine, boss!"
"Don't lie. You're halfway gone." The Evaluator pointed down a side hallway. "You know the drill. Go."
Zairus started to protest, but an invisible force yanked him away before he could utter a full word.
The Evaluator shook his head. "Some people never learn… Alright. Next."
It was my turn.
I stepped forward and placed my hand on the Manarium Lens. The crystal flared instantly, colors swirling in chaotic, unpredictable patterns.
One second… two… five…
The glow dimmed.
UnabletoIdentifyCharism.
The Evaluator raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's… unusual. Follow me. We'll need the Sanctum Lens for this."
'Please be a glitch..' I thought, sighing. 'I really don't want to be stuck at a desk job in a world like this.'
The Sanctum Lens chamber pulsed with quiet energy. A massive crystal sat at its center, etched with ancient runes, glowing faintly beneath the chamber's dim light.
"Place your hand here." the Evaluator instructed.
I hesitated for a split second, then pressed my palm against its cool, humming surface.
The Lens flared to life, colors exploding in a kaleidoscope of motion. I felt it probing me… not just my body, but my soul. My origin. My fate.
Minutes passed.
Still glowing.
Still shifting.
The Evaluator glanced at his assistant. They looked visibly nervous.
Finally, the glow dimmed.
The Evaluator went pale. His assistant's jaw dropped.
"This…" the Evaluator whispered, barely breathing. "This is impossible…"