A mountain stood ancient and vast, its peak piercing the heavens, towering so high it vanished into the clouds above. Near the summit, a man was bound tightly to a massive boulder, his form battered and worn as though time itself had tried to erase him. His long, crimson hair, matted and unkempt, hung like a faded banner against his rugged shoulders, and his hollow eyes, once a vivid red, now seemed almost lifeless, dulled from ages of suffering.
An eagle, wings stretched wide, circled slowly above him, its sharp gaze fixed on the man below. As it spiraled down, the man's head suddenly lifted, as if awakened from a trance. Light flickered within his eyes, a brief resurgence of something fierce, something alive. A weak, strained chuckle escaped his cracked lips.
"Hahahaha... what is this?" he murmured, his voice gritty and worn. "After seventy Million years… I feel it." His eyes narrowed as if focusing on a distant point, their spark growing. "Someone has embodied my will… Someone has been chosen by my one and only remaining creation…" He sighed, deeply, almost reverently, a glimmer of satisfaction crossing his face.
With a calculated swoop, the eagle descended, landing upon the man's torso. Without hesitation, it drove its beak into his abdomen, tearing a chunk of flesh from his liver. The man grunted, his face twisted in pain as he felt the bird's beak gnawing at him, slow and deliberate. Yet a gleam of defiance hardened his gaze.
"Ah… you cursed creature... Let's see how much longer you remain my tormentor." His voice, weary yet steeled with an indomitable will, grew harsher, each word laced with an ancient wrath. "Sooner than you think, this bondage will end… and when it does, it shall be my turn to reap my vengeance upon Olympus and all who cursed me to this."
The eagle continued its feast, oblivious to his words. The man's body convulsed as the beak tore further, sending waves of pain shooting through him. But even as he gritted his teeth against the agony, he sensed it again—a distant, rhythmic beat, faint yet undeniable.
The heartbeat's cadence, steady and strong, reverberated through him. His weary eyes sharpened, filling with a dark, hopeful fire as he strained against his binds, his defiance growing fiercer.
"Child… you shall be my vessel," he declared, each word an oath etched into the fabric of the world. "My one and only true successor." He closed his eyes as if reaching out across eons and realms, focusing with every fiber of his being. "Yes… you can hear it, can't you? The beating of the heart… the call of the sacred flame!"
The heartbeat grew louder, its rhythm pounding like a war drum echoing across the mountain, slicing through time and space itself. One beat… then another… then three more quick and thunderous beats.
The man's eyes snapped open as he felt the unmistakable presence drawing closer. He spat at the eagle, his face twisted in fury. "Get away from me, putrid beast!" he roared, thrashing against his unbreakable chains, trying to shake the bird from his body. But the eagle, undeterred, plunged its beak deeper into his liver, tearing through sinew and bone as the man let out a guttural, blood-curdling scream that reverberated through the air like a storm.
Far below, in the midnight stillness of a quiet cemetery, silence reigned over Xander's fresh grave, his name etched into the headstone above. Six feet below, entombed in darkness, lay Xander's still form. Yet, as the final scream echoed over the mountains, a tremor coursed through his body, followed by a hollow, echoing scream that erupted from within his casket.
Muffled, frantic knocking resounded from beneath the earth, breaking the cemetery's eerie silence as the midnight rain poured down in sheets, drenching the earth above. The cemetery lay deserted, as if even the night was holding its breath.
---------------------------------
Xander jolted awake with a start, gasping as his head slammed hard against the wooden ceiling above him. Dazed, he dropped back down, grumbling, "Ow… what the fuck?" His mind still foggy, he blinked in the darkness, trying to make sense of where he was. "What happened…? W-where am I?" His voice sounded hollow, reverberating off confined walls.
With a jolt, fragments of the last few hours began to resurface. "That… that weird dream? That man, bound to a rock… and that eagle…" He shook his head, trying to clear it. But his surroundings pulled his attention back. It was pitch black—so dark that he couldn't even see his own hands. Reaching up, he touched the rough wood above him, realization dawning.
"Hold up… am I… in a casket?!"
He shot upward instinctively, only to bang his head against the unyielding wood again. "Shit!" he muttered, his heart pounding as panic began to set in. "Why the hell am I in here?!"
In a rush of desperation, he started pounding on the wood with his fists. "Someone!!" he yelled, his voice thick with fear as he struck the surface over and over, each impact echoing back at him. But silence was the only response. His chest tightened, and his mind raced with frantic thoughts.
"Did I… did I die? No, that can't be… How long have I been here?"
His breaths came fast and shallow, each one eating away at the limited air around him. His mind screamed to keep fighting, to do anything to escape, but another part of him knew he needed to stop, to conserve his breath.
"I have to calm down. If I keep panicking, I'll use up all the oxygen."
And as if someone had flipped a switch, his heart rate steadied, his breathing slowed, and a wave of calm washed over him, unnaturally swift and absolute.
The sensation was strange, like someone else had taken control of his body's response, but it worked. His pulse thudded softly in his ears, slower, controlled.
In the stillness, he heard a faint beeping in his head, followed by the appearance of a small, pulsing red dot in the upper left corner of his vision. "Huh? What's that?" He squinted at the dot, and instinctively reached out toward it—only to freeze, feeling his fingers touch the wood.
His fingers. Not his stump.
He stared, wide-eyed in the darkness, flexing his hand. His entire hand, whole and intact, every joint moving fluidly as he turned his wrist, feeling each fingertip. "Ha… hahaha…" he chuckled, the thrill of realization warming his voice. "The experiment worked!" A triumphant grin spread across his face as he clenched his hand into a fist, raising it in victory.
But his euphoria was short-lived as he recalled his current predicament. "No time to celebrate right now. I need to get out of here… or I'm just going to suffocate."
Xander squinted at the pulsing red dot and reached for it instinctively. As his fingers touched the flickering light in his vision, it expanded, revealing a line of text in crisp, computerized font.
[SYSTEM PROMPT]
You have 6 unattended notifications.
"Unattended notifications? What the…" he muttered, scratching his head in confusion. "Did they actually bury me with the device still on my wrist?" He looked down, expecting to see the familiar bracelet that linked him to the System, the one all explorers received after their initiation. But his wrist was bare.
"Then… how am I still able to access the System?" he wondered aloud. "I wasn't anywhere near ready to use it without the device yet." He pondered this, trying to push away the rising dread. But before he could think too much about it, a new notification flashed before him.
[SYSTEM PROMPT]
You are now soul bound to the latest virtual creation of *?[]?[][]*
.
The name glitched, replaced with a series of question marks and strange, undecipherable symbols. He frowned, the ominous message adding to the mystery.
The System voice—an artificial, almost metallic tone—continued, devoid of emotion but laden with revelation.
"This is a prototype that was created to train Demi-gods to better integrate them into the hierarchy. The prototype was stolen by the Celestial Entity known as [Watcher Of The Eternal Flame] and transferred into a specimen several millennia ago, as per the latest records."
Xander's heart skipped a beat as he processed the words. "What… does that even mean?" He stared blankly at the text, his mind racing to connect the dots. "Demi-gods…soul bound? And that 'Watcher Of The Eternal Flame'… Why does that sound so familiar?" He remembered the haunting words of the man in his strange vision, bound to the rock, speaking of a flame—a sacred flame.
The System remained silent, waiting for his input as the weight of it all pressed down on him.
He gritted his teeth, exasperated. "Whatever, I'll deal with this later," he muttered. "System, open notifications!"
The notifications flooded Xander's vision, overlapping and popping up in every corner, each message bearing more unexpected news than the last. His head spun as he tried to make sense of it all, his eyes darting from one line of text to another.
[SYSTEM PROMPT]
You have successfully soul bound to the ???? System! Current remaining soul essence: 66%. A third of your essence has been lost due to various variables…
"What the hell… my soul essence?" he murmured, feeling an odd chill settle over him. Soul Essence wasn't something casually mentioned in any guide on the System. Whatever this was, it was leagues beyond anything he'd heard of.
Another notification flashed across his vision.
[SYSTEM PROMPT]
Your status window has been updated.
As he took a steadying breath, another prompt appeared almost instantly, layering over the others.
[SYSTEM PROMPT]
You have acquired 4 new skills!
"New skills…? From what?" He barely had a moment to process this before yet another message blinked to life.
[SYSTEM PROMPT]
You have received the blessing of: [Watcher Of The Eternal Flame]
Xander's pulse quickened, the name repeating in his mind like a faint echo. The old man's voice from his dream—or vision, whatever it was—had called out to the "sacred flame." Could there be a connection?
His thoughts were cut short by the next notification.
[SYSTEM PROMPT]
You have died and lost 25% of your soul essence…
His breath hitched. Died. The word seemed to linger, filling the cramped darkness of the coffin with an oppressive weight. He'd been dead, gone, however briefly. He wasn't sure what to feel: fear, awe, or some blend of both. But even that thought was disrupted by the final, glowing line of text.
[SYSTEM PROMPT]
Blessing of [Watcher Of The Eternal Flame] has been used… you have been resurrected. +11% Soul essence recovered!
Xander's mind spun, each notification a revelation that demanded more answers than he could supply. He closed his eyes, trying to ground himself in this torrent of information. Resurrection, soul essence, a divine blessing—somehow, he had come back from the dead.
As Xander read through the system prompts, an unusual calm continued to settle over him, almost as if his mind had been fortified against the chaos of his surroundings. Another notification pinged to life in his vision, catching his attention.
[SYSTEM PROMPT]
The skill: [Hyper Adaptation] has triggered! As a result, you have acquired a new skill: [Enhanced Reading] (Rank-F). Your reading speed and comprehension ability has increased! +1 Intelligence.
"Hyper… Adaptation?!" he muttered, a mixture of disbelief and excitement tightening in his chest. The words carried weight—a potential he hadn't dared to imagine. If that's what I think it is…
Without hesitation, he opened his status window.
[STATUS WINDOW]
Name: Xander Shayden
Rank: E
Level: 1
Stats:
Strength: 8
Dexterity: 11
Constitution: 10
Intelligence: 28
Charisma: 12
Perception: 10
Sub Stats:
HP: 50
Mana: 56
Speed: 22
"Rank E?!" he almost jolted up, barely catching himself before his head could slam into the wood above him again. "When did I get to Rank E? This is insane… And 28 Intelligence? Not something a barely F-ranked explorer would have." He felt a rush of exhilaration mixed with a tinge of disbelief as he scanned the stats further. Alright, let's see these skills…
[Active Skills]:
[Iron Will of the Strategist] (Rank E)
Type: Passive / Active
Born from the resolve and ingenuity displayed in the face of overwhelming odds, Iron Will of the Strategist grants you an ability to steel your mind, clearing mental distractions, and enhancing strategic insights in moments of danger.
Passive Effect: Calm Resolve
Your mental state remains stable even in chaotic or life-threatening situations, boosting focus and resistance to mind-altering effects.
Your ability to analyze battle situations and predict enemy moves is enhanced by 10%.
Active Effect: Clarity of Vision (Cooldown: 10 minutes)
When activated, Clarity of Vision allows you to momentarily perceive an ideal course of action with a precision-based overlay (displaying weak points, best positioning, etc.), helping you exploit your environment or enemy vulnerabilities with high accuracy.
Mana Cost: 15
Skill Duration: 1 minute
"Is this something I got from beating the serpent?" he whispered to himself, a surge of pride mingling with his wonder as he glanced over the skill's detailed description. He scanned down to the next prompt.
[Enhanced Reading] (Rank-F)
Your reading speed and understanding of material read has increased slightly.
He couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle.
"Well, it's a start. And it could come in handy if I'm going to have all these system notifications coming my way."
Then his eyes caught on the next entry, and his heart nearly skipped a beat.
[Unique Skill]: [Hyper Adaptation] (Growth-Type Evolution) (Rank-S)
??????
"Not the question marks again…" Frustration flickered through him, but it only fueled his curiosity further. Whatever this skill truly entailed, he was sure it was linked to the experiment, to the changes coursing through him now.
A slow, triumphant grin crept onto his face. "There's no doubt about it—the experiment worked. I've transformed my genes and fused them with… that creature." He flexed his new hand, marveling at the renewed sense of vitality flowing through him. "It feels strange, but it's given me exactly what I wanted—a second chance."
His voice turned resolute, filled with an energy that felt entirely new. "And I'd be damned if I wasted it rotting away in this coffin!"
Xander scrolled further down his status window, searching for any other new gains or surprises. As he read through the unique skills section, two more skills appeared:
[Unique Skills]:
[Regeneration] (Rank-E) (Passive)
Users can regenerate limbs and other exterior body parts given enough time. Heals 2 HP every minute.
[Ether Circulation] (Rank-D)
Your body has adapted to your weakness and overcome your disease. Mana flows through you like a river! You regenerate 1% of your max mana every minute.
Xander stared in disbelief, a thrill of astonishment and satisfaction running through him. "This is ridiculous! Hyper Adaptation is no joke…" A grin spread across his face, sharp and determined. "At least now I'm a lot harder to kill."
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. "Alright, Xander, let's get out of here." His fingers felt up along the rough wood of the coffin's ceiling, seeking any weak spots, though his vision was still murky with the lack of light, thick darkness pressing in from all sides.
Just then, his vision shifted subtly, a faint glow illuminating his surroundings as a new prompt flashed into his line of sight:
[SYSTEM PROMPT]
The skill [Hyper Adaptation] has been triggered! You have gained a new skill as a result: [Dark Vision] (Rank-F)
Xander blinked, his eyes adjusting instantly to the dim glow. His surroundings sharpened, the rough grain of the wood coming into clearer view.
"Great!… I can see a bit now!"
Xander continued feeling along the wood grain of the coffin, pausing as he sensed a softer area near the middle. "It should be around here somewhere… let's see what this skill is all about," he muttered, activating the ability he'd recently acquired.
His eyes glowed with a faint green outline, and as his vision sharpened in the pitch darkness, he scanned the only object within his view—the coffin lid above him. A red dotted line appeared, directing his attention to a specific spot just to the left of center.
"So, that's the weak point, huh?" he murmured with a flicker of excitement, his eyes alight with a vigor that hadn't been there in what felt like a lifetime. "If I just bash this thing here, it should break. Let's hope 8 Strength is enough…"
Clenching his fist, he aligned it with the trajectory of the red line, ensuring he hit the marked spot dead on. But as his fist connected, the only response was a dull thud against the wood. No splintering, no breakthrough—just the hollow, mocking sound of his own strike.
Xander sighed deeply, momentarily discouraged. "I guess it's not gonna be that easy. I need more space to build up momentum, but there's barely any…" He tried again, pulling his arm back as far as possible in the confined space, but this time his fist missed the precise mark by a fraction.
"Fuck! Only about forty five seconds left before the cooldown," he muttered, glancing at the timer in his vision. His frustration bubbled over, and he began pounding on the weak spot in quick succession.
"Damn it!!! Break! Break! Break, you stupid piece of trash! This is supposed to be the weak spot—why isn't it budging!?"
Recognizing the toll his outburst was taking on his dwindling oxygen supply, he forced himself to calm down, his breathing instantly slowing as his eyes narrowed, cold and calculating. "Get a grip, Xander," he muttered, swallowing back his frustration.
With a steadying breath, he positioned his fingers over the weak point, his hand flattened and his fingers extended to brace against the wood. Then, he quickly turned his hand into a fist, driving it into the precise spot with both accuracy and intent.
A faint cracking noise answered him.
He allowed himself a small smile. "I need both power and accuracy… Only twenty seconds left," he reminded himself, feeling the pressure build. "Come on… I don't wanna spend another ten minutes here.
And I've probably already used up a lot of oxygen."
Pulling his arm as far back as he could manage, he arched his back to give himself a bit more reach. Then, with a focused exhale, he drove his fist into the weak spot again. This time, a louder crack responded, followed by the soft patter of debris trickling down onto his face.
"Alright, alright… we're getting somewhere," he whispered, shielding his nose from the dusty fallout. His hand was bloody now, his knuckles raw, but he ignored the sting. He reached back one more time, every muscle in his body tensing in preparation for one final, decisive strike.
With a fierce growl, Xander launched his fist into the weakened spot, putting every ounce of strength he could muster behind it. The wood splintered under the force, and a huge crack spider-webbed across the coffin's ceiling. This time, a steady stream of dirt poured in, bringing with it the stale, earthy scent of the grave.
Xander's eyes widened as he watched the soil fall in, but he pushed away the fear creeping in at the edges of his mind. He'd come this far—he wasn't about to let a bit of dirt stop him now…
He paused, catching his breath, when suddenly a notification blinked into his field of vision, interrupting the moment.
[SYSTEM PROMPT]
The skill: [Hyper Adaptation] has triggered!