Fire.

  His body felt different. It was taller, much taller. Heavier, stronger, and older.

  Kael stood in heavy armor scorched with ash. A red crest of a long-forgotten crusader order adorned the chestplate.

  Every breath he inhaled burned his lungs. His hands were stained with his own blood and that of others. He gripped a broken sword.

  The temple was in ruins. The ceiling had fallen, and marble pillars were shattered. Bodies covered the ground. His fellow knights, friends, priests, and even the children—all dead.

  Only he remained.

  He stumbled toward the altar. His knees gave out.

  “Why?” he rasped.

  There was no answer. Not from the Spine. Not from the heavens above. Not even from the God he served. Only silence.

  Above the altar, a soft glow shimmered, vast and unfeeling. The God had come at last.

  Too late.

  It hovered above, a golden, terrible glowing eye; its voice was a choir of thunder.

  You have fought well, my warrior. I will grant you peace. Glory. Worship. Power. You shall be my Avatar. My chosen, in the name of Radiance.

  Kneel, it said.

  And the man looked up at that god.

  And said:

  “No.”

  The word was soft. Not defiant. Not angry. Just… certain.

  “I prayed,” he yelled. “We all did. We believed. And you watched us die.”

  He looked around at the bodies. Then, back at the eye.

  “You never came. Until now.”

  The God of Radiance faltered.

  “No,” the man said. “I will not kneel. Not now. Not ever again.”

  And the man stood there, soaked in blood, with one hand on his broken sword, waiting.

  “I renounce you,” he said.

  The sky split.

  A single beam of light struck him.

  He did not scream. He did not beg.

  He died on his feet, never bowing.

  And then, he was gone. Darkness.

  Kael screamed as his eyes opened. The taste of ash still lingered in his mouth. His fingers grasped for the broken sword—but there was nothing.

  He stumbled, nearly falling.

  He was back in the throne room like he had never left. The jars were gone. Maxwell remained, still bound, smiling at him.

  Kael pressed a hand to his chest. It was still his body, but deep down, he felt someth-

  ---

  [SHARD AWAKENED: THE ONE WHO REFUSED A GOD]

  Status: Locked

  Description: The memory of a fallen crusader. When a god descended and offered him divine protection, power, glory—he simply said “No.”

  Effects: ???

  ---

  The words weren’t spoken. They weren’t even seen in the normal sense. They simply were.

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  Kael flinched, blinking hard. “What… was that?”

  Maxwell beamed. “Oh, that. Just the Spine taking notice. It tends to do that when something interesting happens.”

  Kael asked, confused, “What does it mean by locked?”

  Maxwell raised his shackled arms as if to shrug. “Ah, yes. The fine print. Can’t have you walking around with divine defiance at your fingertips this early, can we? No, no. The Spine plays fair… most of the time. Finish the tutorial and ascend to the first floor. Then you’ll see what it really gives you.”

  Then, Maxwell’s smile cooled.

  “But before we get ahead of ourselves…” he leaned forward, “I believe we had an agreement.”

  Kael blinked. “What?”

  Maxwell tapped a clawed finger to his own temple. “A memory. Payment. I held up my end, Kael. Now it’s time to hold up yours.”

  Kael recoiled. “You said it could be anything.”

  “I did.” Maxwell’s eyes gleamed. “I’m not greedy; I just want a taste.”

  Maxwell held his arms out. “Touch my hand, and just envision the memory you want to give.”

  A pause.

  Kael swallowed, stepped forward, and placed his hand on Maxwell’s. His hand was surprisingly warm. It was rough and dry, like the hand of something that had died a long time ago but refused to rot.

  Slowly, he let his mind drift. Searching. Something small. Something dull. Something he could afford to lose.

  Kael sank into his memories.

  He was around six years old, and he remembered the first day he ventured out with the older fisherman at dawn. The air was cold, and a thick fog hung over the water. The boat ripped across the water as they went deeper into the ocean. He remembered watching the shadowy forms of dolphins rise and dip in the distance.

  At one point, the net they cast felt remarkably heavy. The men lifted it. They saw a shiny, scaled creature with flowing hair caught in the net. Its eyes sparkled with unusual intelligence. Then, it ripped the net apart and vanished into the depths.

  Maxwell inhaled sharply. His grin widened. “That… that was exquisite. Really, exquisite.”

  Kael tried to pull his hand back.

  He couldn’t.

  Maxwell’s grip tightened. His fingers gripped Kael’s wrist like the iron shackles he wore as a captive.

  Kael’s eyes widened. “Let go.”

  But Maxwell didn’t answer; he just gripped tighter. His claws sank into Kael’s flesh.

  Kael screamed.

  It wasn’t just pain. It was worse. Memories were ripped away—like pages shredded from a book mid-sentence.

  His Nan’s laugh vanished. His brother’s grin at the docks. His dog’s name. The smell of fish oil. The feeling of salt wind on his face.

  Gone. Gone. Gone.

  “Stop!” Kael tried to pull back, his entire body shaking, but his feet refused to move.

  Memories flew past: a birthday, a song he once knew, the face of someone he swore he’d never forget—

  Gone.

  His scream turned primal, like a boar bleeding out. His eyes rolled. His knees gave out as they crashed into the stone.

  Let. Him. Go. A voice said, calm and commanding.

  It was neither male nor female. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

  Maxwell hissed, his black eyes narrowing. You,” he spat, his voice filled with venom. “Always meddling where you don’t belong.”

  A golden, beautiful eye opened in the air above them. Vast, radiant. It didn’t blink. It didn’t move.

  Light from the eye spilled in. Not the harsh burning, blinding light of Radiance. It was gentle and warm, like a mother cradling her baby.

  Maxwell flinched as if burned. His hand tore away from Kael’s hand. Smoke rose from his fingers.

  Kael collapsed. Gasping. Twitching. He didn’t know where he was. Didn’t know who he was for a second. He gripped the stone beneath him like it was the only thing keeping him safe.

  The eye remained, watching.

  Maxwell's fangs were bared. “So dramatic,” he hissed. “You always did have a flair for last-minute savior theatrics.”

  The voice returned, gentle this time. He is not yours.

  Maxwell smiled. “Not yet.”

  The eye shone brighter. The chains around Maxwell rattled, tugged by an invisible force. He winced.

  You will not touch him again. Only if he chooses to.

  Kael looked up at the eye through blurred vision. His mind felt like a puzzle missing various pieces. There were holes. Empty places where something should have been.

  Then, the warmth returned.

  It wasn’t fire. It wasn’t light.

  It was a warm presence.

  A quiet golden glow surrounded his chest. It didn’t speak, not this time. It simply touched the broken pieces.

  Kael’s pain dulled. The agony numbed. His vision cleared. He could remember some stuff he couldn’t before. But he still couldn’t remember what his Nan’s voice sounded like. Her face was blurry in his mind.

  The divine eye did not return. But he still felt its presence in the air.

  Not power, not fear, just warmth.

  Kael didn’t understand it. But he was breathing again. Whole enough to remember his own name.

  And that was enough.

  Maxwell’s laugh echoed slightly in the room as he said, “You’ll be back eventually. They always come back.”

  He smiled widely enough to show too many teeth.

  “…I’ll be here. Waiting.”

  The light returned.

  It pulsed once. And Kael vanished.

  He collapsed hard onto the wooden planks. The ship’s deck. He heard various voices moving around him.

  “You made it,” the Captain said, his voice unreadable. “Welcome to the First Floor.”

  Kael tried to respond. His lips moved, but no sound came. His vision swam. Darkness took him.

  And then:

  ---

  [TUTORIAL COMPLETED.]

  EVALUATING ACHIEVEMENTS…