The sky bled crimson above the Blackspire Citadel. Appropriate, Adam Morningstar thought, as his own blood pooled beneath him. His white hair, once immaculate, now matted with dirt and blood, splayed across the shattered obsidian floor.
Pain lanced through his body where the Radiant Blade had pierced his chest. Not a killing blow—not yet. His brother wanted him to suffer first.
"It's over, Adam." Marcus Morningstar stood above him, emerald eyes burning with righteous fury, the minus-shaped pupils narrowed to slits. The black-haired hero's muscular form was silhouetted against the burning sky, his legendary sword gleaming with stolen light. "Your reign of terror ends today."
Adam tried to laugh, but blood bubbled from his lips instead. "Is that what they'll write in your story, brother? That you heroically slew the wicked twin?" His red eyes, with their distinctive cross-shaped pupils, still burned with defiance even as life drained from them.
"This isn't about stories," Marcus snarled. "This is about justice for the millions you've slaughtered. For the kingdoms you've burned. For every life you've destroyed in your mad quest for power."
Behind Marcus stood his five companions—his precious harem of powerful women who had helped bring the villain to his knees. The Emerald Windweaver, the Azure Tidespeaker, the Violet Stormbinder, the Amber Earthcaller, and the Crimson Flamedancer. Each one had played her part in dismantling Adam's carefully constructed plans.
Shayna, the Flamedancer, stepped forward, her fiery hair whipping in the wind. "Finish it, Marcus. He's trying to manipulate you even now."
Adam's lips curled into a bloody smile. The fools. They never understood. Power wasn't something to be used for others. Power was everything. The only truth in this wretched world. And he had come so close...
"Any last words, brother?" Marcus raised the Radiant Blade.
Adam's gaze locked with his twin's. They had once shared a womb, but that was all they had ever shared. While Marcus had been blessed with adoration and light, Adam had been cursed with suspicion and shadows from birth. The cross in his eyes marking him as different. Dangerous.
"You think this is victory?" Adam whispered, each word a struggle. "You've understood nothing. Kill me if you must, but remember this—in any story worth telling, death is never the end."
"Goodbye, Adam."
The blade descended, a streak of blinding light. Adam felt a moment of searing pain as it severed his head from his body, and then—
Nothing.
Darkness.
Silence.
Until...
A voice. Distant yet impossibly clear.
[SOUL RETRIEVED]
[FATE ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
[GENESIS SYSTEM INITIALIZING]
[REBIRTH PROTOCOL ACTIVATED]
Adam Morningstar opened his eyes to a strange ceiling, memories of his death still fresh in his mind. But this wasn't the afterlife he'd expected.
This was something else entirely.
He tried to move, to speak, to unleash the torrent of Obsidian energy that had once been at his command—but his body refused to obey. His limbs were weak, useless.
A face loomed over him. A woman with tired eyes and a gentle smile.
"Look, James," she called to someone out of sight. "He's awake. Your son has your eyes."
Son? Adam tried to protest, to explain that there had been some cosmic mistake, that he was Adam Morningstar, the most feared Arkmage in the history of the Thirteen Kingdoms.
But all that emerged from his mouth was a baby's wail.
And somewhere, in the depths of his infant brain, words formed that only he could hear:
[WELCOME TO THE GENESIS SYSTEM]
[YOUR FIRST CYCLE BEGINS NOW]