It begins with a whisper.
Not from a person.
From a stone.
Deep beneath the Shrine of Echoes, Adam discovers a relic pulsing with cursed energy. It's inscribed with a prophecy—but the words are written backward, as if time itself tried to hide them.
He deciphers it.
"The Lord shall rise.
The world shall bend.
And in the end,
The Lord shall curse again."
Adam freezes.
He recognizes the handwriting.
It's his own.
But older.
Worn.
Desperate.
He realizes: this is a message from his future self—a warning that godhood will corrupt him, that his rewrites will spiral into tyranny, that he will become the final curse.
He seeks answers in the Temple of Threads, where fate is woven like silk. There, he meets Miko, a blind weaver who sees futures through touch.
She takes his hand.
She gasps.
"You are fraying."
Adam asks what that means.
Miko explains: every rewrite he makes creates a thread. Too many threads, and the tapestry of reality begins to tear. Eventually, the world will collapse under the weight of his mercy.
Adam is shaken.
He returns to the Library of Echoes.
He finds a sealed chamber—one only gods may enter.
Inside is a mirror.
It shows him a future where he rules from a throne of rewritten bones. Where people worship him not out of love, but fear. Where the Seventh Eye is black, not silver.
He screams.
He vows: "I will not become that."
But the mirror whispers:
"You already have."
Adam leaves the chamber changed.
He decides to limit his rewrites.
To let pain exist.
To let people choose.
But the world begins to resist.
Curses return.
Wars reignite.
And whispers spread: "The Cursed Lord has grown cold."
Adam stands at a crossroads.
Rewrite and risk becoming the prophecy.
Or abstain and let suffering bloom.
He chooses a third path.
He begins searching for someone who can inherit the Seventh Eye—someone pure, untouched, unbroken.
Someone who can rewrite without falling.