The room was silent, but then a voice—crystalline, genderless, and echoing as if from a great distance—reverberated inside Shren's skull.
"Identity Confirmed. Master Shren Blackwood. You have awakened the 'Aethelgard Vault,' a relic of the Seventh Age."
Shren jumped, nearly falling off his bed. "Who... who's there?"
"I am the Core Spirit of the Vancurial Shackle. You are weak, Master. To rewrite your fate, you must first claim your inheritance. Speak the word: Enthropance."
Shren's heart raced. He looked at the glowing obsidian band. With a shaky breath, he whispered, "Enthropance."
The world folded like a piece of paper. The walls of his bedroom vanished, replaced by a sky of eternal twilight. He stood on a path of white marble that led to a sprawling, ivory mansion. The air smelled of jasmine and ancient rain. Lush gardens filled with flowers that glowed like jewels surrounded him. It was a 4th-dimensional pocket of peace—a world where no one could hurt him.
On a stone pedestal near the garden gate sat a crystal vial filled with a swirling, golden liquid.
"Starter Bonus: The Essence of Rebirth," the voice echoed. "Drink, and begin the evolution."
Thirst, deeper than any he had ever felt, clawed at his throat. He grabbed the vial and downed it in one gulp. It tasted like sunlight and honey.