Kael sat on the edge of his bed, forcing himself to breathe slowly. Panic was a luxury, a weakness that led to death, and he had seen the best soldiers break under its grip. Though his adolescent body was still trembling, flooded with adrenaline he hadn't yet learned to control, his mind was a frozen lake, forged by two decades of war.
He closed his eyes, ignoring the room around him to look inward, searching for the voice—the anomaly that had snatched him from oblivion. He found it. It wasn't an explosion of light or a divine vision, but a void. It was a black, silent, infinite space at the center of his consciousness , where glacial blue letters floated, clean and simple:
[Codex of Echoes].
This was its name. The interface was austere and simple, with no guide or contextual help. There were just a few options, most of them grayed out and inactive. Only three were faintly lit. With a simple intention, he activated the first one:
[STATUS].
Host: Kael Valerius
Age: 16 years old
Class: [Unawakened]
Unique Ability: [None]
Strength: Mediocre
Agility: Mediocre
Mana: Latent (Unmeasurable)
Soul Condition: Unstable (Integrity: 3.7%)
The diagnosis was brutal and final. He was a blank slate, with nothing of his past power inherited. The dangerously low integrity of his soul was likely the scar left by his death and his journey through time. Everything had to be rebuilt. A steely glint appeared in his eyes. Good. He preferred building on a bare foundation rather than on ruins.
He opened the second option:
[JOURNAL]. The text was short and factual, chilling him more than any monster ever could.
Entry 001: Detection of imminent host dissolution. Soul analysis: compatibility detected. Protocol of last resort binding conditions fulfilled. Activating the Codex of Echoes.
Entry 002: Executing Soul Regression Protocol. Time travel initiated. Cost: 100% of the energy core.
Entry 003: Regression successful. Host soul integrity stabilized at 3.7%. Codex energy core depleted. System in stasis.
Entry 004: Awaiting host awakening to initiate recalibration and partial system restart.
Kael reread the last line several times. The truth hit him with the force of a war hammer. The Codex was not a powerful divine gift. It was a life raft that had used all its fuel to pull him from the ocean. It was a broken machine, a dead battery relying on the spark of his own Awakening to restart. He wasn't the wielder of infinite power; he was the guardian of a dying relic.
A glacial smile spread across his lips. This was even better. Miracles were fickle and incomprehensible, but a system—even a broken one—had rules. And Kael knew how to learn, bend, and exploit rules to his advantage.
Knock, knock.
The sound made him jump, pulling him abruptly back to reality. It was a simple, harmless noise, but it pierced his mental armor.
"Kael, my dear? Breakfast is ready!"
It was his mother's voice. Cheerful. Carefree. Alive. It was a voice he hadn't heard since the day he watched her sacrifice herself to protect a group of children during the siege of the capital. Kael's fist clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palm. The ghost outside the door had just reminded him why he had returned. Not for power, not for glory, but to change the ending of their story