Months passed swiftly.
And with them, answers dissolved.
The skies had calmed, the ground stilled, but none had forgotten the terror and awe that swept across the world six months ago. From the highest peaks of the Divine Spire to the depths of the Abyssal Trenches, every clan, sect, kingdom, and forgotten realm scrambled for answers.
But they all found nothing.
Not a trace.
Not a clue.
Not a shadow.
And how could they? The First Sigil was not just concealment. It was erasure. It made Solace unrecordable by any law, fate, time, or mind—not hidden, but undefined.
Within the rebuilt manor, two women coexisted in calm.
Aetheria and Gaia—once strangers, now kindred spirits.
To Gaia's astonishment, Aetheria was not just a sentience; she was older than this world, a remnant from when the stars first learned to spin.
And for once, Gaia did not need to carry the weight of millennia alone.
They sat often beneath the shade of an artificial sky, sipping brewed soulflower tea, speaking of things no mortal could grasp—timeline echoes, Void shifts, and the first fall of laws.
But amidst all this, the egg never moved.
Not once.
Until today.
CRACK
CRACK
CRACK
The manor shook.
The sky darkened, then lit with a starlit radiance—the kind that should not belong to day.
And then, with a final shattering hum, the Cosmic Egg ruptured.
It did not explode.
It unfolded.
As if peeling back a layer of unreality.
Within floated a man—not standing but curled in a fetal position. Naked. Radiant. Silent.
Solace.
Slowly, as if moved by strings of conceptual law, his body extended.
His feet touched ground. And the earth did not quake—it bowed.
He stood.
Transfigured.
His skin, once deep and bronzed, now shimmered like obsidian bathed in the light of unborn stars—a rich tone layered with cosmic resonance.
His hair, now long and flowing, was a cascade of white-silver strands, shifting subtly with mana currents.
He stood at six-foot-two, his form leans but compact—every inch carved by purpose, not vanity. A body forged for both beauty, and ascendancy.
And upon his head—horns.
But not dragon horns. These were Aethernal horns.
Four of them, spiraling around his crown like an eternal coronet—white, polished, and emanating soft pulses of possibility.
They were not remnants of ancestry.
They were declarations.
His eyes opened.
Gone were the black voids with white dots.
Now they were solid white, unmarred—save for a pair of intersecting black crosses, which, upon closer look, were each composed of two dragon-like slits, layered one over the other.
Time itself hesitated around him.
As if unsure how to proceed.
He stood still for a long time, breathing softly.
Then he exhaled—and in that exhale, reality adjusted.
Not bent.
Adjusted.
As though he was no longer following the rules.
He was suggesting better ones.
And while he was focusing on his changes, a ancient voice spoke into his mind. Heard only to him, and almost like a whisper from reality itself.
"Archanom - The Sovereign of Becoming
You are no longer a race. You are no longer a path.
You are now a Conceptual Existence: Archanom — The Sovereign of Becoming.
An Archanom is a being who embodies potential without constraint. Not by violating laws, but by refusing to be defined by them. It is a state where growth, mastery, and transformation are dictated solely by imagination.
Your potential becomes reality, so long as you can envision it and possess the power to act on it.
Traits Gained:
- Sovereign's Imagination
You can conceptualize and define the potential ceiling for any aspect of yourself. This can include strength, speed, comprehension, law synergy, resistance, creativity, or even karmic weight.
You must believe, understand, and embody the idea to unlock it.
- Horizon Threshold
Upon entering a new realm of power, you may immediately unlock a new facet of your identity. This can manifest as:
A new concept resonance
A unique ability
A spiritual mutation
A world-affecting talent
This is limited to one per realm.
-Aethernal Threading
Your soul, body, and core are no longer separate. You are whole—a singular thread of existence. This allows for seamless integration of concepts, bloodlines, weapons, and forms of power.
Caution: Massive integrations still require recovery periods.
Restrictions:
While your potential is infinite, your current stage still limits what you can manifest without collapse.
You may define your potential, but you must still walk the path to earn it."
As Solace stood in the gentle breeze of post-rebirth silence, Gaia and Aetheria approached.
Gaia whispered, "What… what are you now?"
Solace turned slowly, his new eyes narrowing—not in menace, but in curiosity.
"I don't know," he said. "But I think…"
He looked at his hands—cosmic veins pulsing beneath the skin, glowing softly with dreams not yet dreamt.
"I think I get to choose."
And then, softly
"The limit of what I can become… is whatever I dare to imagine.