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Whispers of the Seed

The glow from the silver card faded, but Elior’s mind was spinning.

[SYSTEM LINK: 5% SYNCHRONIZED]

[ABILITY SEED: UNLOCKED – STATUS: DORMANT]

Dormant?

“What does that mean?” he asked, staring at the now-black card.

The woman with silver hair gave him a look. “It means the power is there—but it hasn’t chosen how it will manifest. You’ll have to awaken it… naturally.”

“Through combat?” Elior asked.

“Sometimes,” she replied. “Other times, through loss. Pain. Passion. Fear. Power isn’t just muscle—it’s memory, instinct, will.”

The hooded man stepped forward again. “Go home, Elior. The seed will bloom when you’re ready. We’ll contact you when your second trial begins.”

“And if I don’t want this?” Elior asked, voice low.

“You already accepted it,” the man said. “When you didn’t die.”

That night, Elior lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

His shoulder still ached from the fire hound’s claw. His mind wouldn’t stop racing.

"What the hell is happening to me? What did they put in me? What if I’m changing into something I can’t come back from?"

Sleep didn’t come easy.

But when it did… the dreams were vivid.

He stood in a world of floating islands and endless stars. Cities of glass hovered above oceans of lightning. Creatures larger than buildings soared through the sky, wings made of flame and metal.

In the center of it all—a throne.

Empty. Cracked. Surrounded by fallen weapons and bloodstained banners.

And then… a voice.

“Remember your name.”

“Elior Rae.”

“You are not the first. And you will not be the last.”

He turned—and saw his own face, older, colder… staring back at him like a god.

Then everything exploded into white.

Elior jolted awake, gasping for air.

Sweat drenched his sheets. His heart was pounding.

And hovering above his bed—in the air, in glowing blue letters—were his first stats.

[SYSTEM INTERFACE: AWAKENED]