The scent of old paper and beeswax was the perfume of Kaelen's prison. For the tenth time that hour, he traced the faint outline of a water stain on the ceiling, mapping its geography as if it were a new continent. It was, without a doubt, the most interesting thing in the shop.
"Kai! Are you daydreaming again? Those silver spoons won't polish themselves!"
Kai flinched, the grating voice of his boss, Marcus Thorne, yanking him back to reality. "On it," he mumbled, picking up a soft cloth. He hated polishing silver. Every pass of the cloth was a reminder of his own tarnished life.
For two years, he had worked here at "Thorne's Curios & Relics," a glorified junk shop for the wealthy. He'd taken the job to help pay for his sister's mounting medical bills, a debt that felt like a physical weight on his shoulders. Every dusty artifact, every forgotten piece of history, was just another price tag to him, another hour of his life sold.
He picked up a tarnished teaspoon, its handle depicting a faded coat of arms. He could see his own warped reflection in its bowl: a tired 22-year-old with dark hair that was perpetually messy and eyes that had lost their spark. This was his life: polishing the memories of the dead for a pittance.
Suddenly, a low hum vibrated through the floor, so deep he felt it in his bones. The lights flickered, casting the shop in a strobe of dancing shadows. The antique clocks on the wall, each set to a different time, all stopped at once.
"What was that? An earthquake?" Marcus called out from his office, his voice laced with annoyance rather than fear.
Kai's head swam. A wave of vertigo washed over him, so intense he had to grip the edge of the mahogany counter to stay upright. The air grew thick, shimmering with a strange, blue-green energy. Dust motes hanging in the afternoon sunbeams froze mid-air.
Then, the feeling vanished as quickly as it came. The lights stabilized. The clocks remained frozen.
A splitting headache was all that remained. Kai groaned, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. When he opened them, the world looked the same, but a transparent blue box, like something out of a video game, was hovering in his vision.
[System Initializing... 10%... 50%... 100%]
[Congratulations! You have been Awakened.]
[Welcome, User Kaelen Vance.]
Kai blinked. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. The box was still there. He stumbled backward, his heart hammering against his ribs. Was he hallucinating? A brain tumor?
"Kai! What are you doing? Get back to work!" Marcus bellowed, stepping out of his office. He clearly didn't see the box. This was happening only to him.
Frantically, Kai swiped a hand through the air, trying to bat the image away. His fingers passed right through it. He was going insane. That was the only explanation. He needed to get a grip.
He took a shaky breath and leaned against a display case to steady himself, his hand landing on the hilt of an old, rusted cavalry saber from the American Civil War. It was one of the few authentic pieces in the shop, a relic that had supposedly seen three major battles.
The moment his skin touched the cold steel, the blue box in his vision flickered and changed.
[Historical Echo Detected: Officer's Saber of the 7th Cavalry.]
[Resonance Affinity: 73%. High Synchronization Potential.]
[Absorb Echo? Y/N]
Echo? Absorb? The words made no sense, but it was the first interactive thing his hallucination had presented. He was losing his mind anyway, so what was the harm? Focusing on the 'Y' in his mind, he thought, Yes.
An electric jolt shot up his arm. It wasn't painful, but it was overwhelming. Images, sounds, and feelings flooded his mind: the thunder of hooves, the acrid smell of gunpowder, the desperate shouts of men, and the chilling sensation of steel slicing through the air. He felt a phantom weight in his hand, the muscle memory of a hundred drills and a dozen desperate skirmishes.
The flood subsided, leaving him gasping for air, his forehead slick with sweat.
A new notification appeared in the blue box.
[Echo Absorbed Successfully.]
[New Skill Learned: Basic Swordsmanship (F-Rank).]
He stared at the words, then down at his own hands. They were the same, yet they felt different. He could feel the knowledge settle into his bones, an instinctual understanding of balance, grip, and the precise arc of a cutting blow. It wasn't just a thought; it was a physical certainty. This was real.
Before he could process the impossible reality of his new skill, a blaring, crimson notification filled his vision, drowning out the blue.
[WARNING! A Level 1 Distortion is manifesting within 200 meters!]
[Emergency Quest Generated: SURVIVE.]
From the street outside came a sound that would forever mark the end of the world he knew: a collective scream, followed by the terrifying crunch of metal and the shattering of glass.