The void was still. Gold shimmered faintly around him, silver whispered at the edges of perception. Ethan's form was almost complete — almost.
But then, something stirred in the depths of his chest.
A book. The Grimoire.
Its cover was bound in shifting gold and black, its pages endless, each inscribed with glyphs that changed as they were read. This was not merely parchment and ink — it was the codex of his existence, once the System that had guided him, measured him, bound him in rules of growth and ascension. Now, it had shed the guise of tool and revealed itself as relic.
The Grimoire opened.
Pages flipped rapidly, ink spilling outward like liquid gold. Equations of existence. Names of gods. Hidden laws written before time. The true architecture of reality, line by line.
