The silence after death was colder than any grave.
When he opened his eyes, there was no sky—only a sea of light. Shards of memory drifted around him like fading stars: the betrayal, the screams, the blade that pierced his chest.
"So… it wasn't just a dream."
A soft laugh answered him—a voice that seemed to echo from every direction and yet whispered beside his ear.
"No, brave soul. You truly died."
He turned. A woman stood before him, barefoot on water that shimmered like glass. Her silver hair floated as though weightless, and her eyes were an endless mix of gold and violet—divine yet unreadable.
"I am Elyndra, Goddess of Reincarnation. You were summoned here because your soul refused to fade."
"So… I get another chance?"
She smiled, a curve of lips that could bless or break hearts. "A chance, yes—but not mercy. You carry vengeance in your heart, and this world thrives on will. Tell me, mortal—what kind of power do you seek?"
In front of him, seven spheres appeared, each pulsing with its own light:
1. Flame of Wrath — Power born of anger; unmatched destruction.
2. Shadow Dominion — Control over the unseen; manipulation of minds and darkness.
3. Celestial Body — Immortal endurance and divine regeneration.
4. Soul Forge — The ability to craft weapons from one's own soul.
5. Beast's Pact — Summon and command mythical creatures.
6. Charm of Desire — The aura of allure; hearts and loyalty bend to you.
7. Rebirth's Sin — Absorb the abilities of those you slay.
"Choose carefully," Elyndra whispered. "Once chosen, it cannot be undone. Each path grants strength—but every strength hides a curse."
He stared at the glowing spheres, their power humming in his chest. Revenge demanded force. Survival demanded cunning. And deep within, something darker whispered for both.
"If I can only choose one…" he muttered, extending his hand.
Elyndra's eyes gleamed. "Or," she said softly, "you can take the forbidden path—the Eternal Convergence, where all powers meet, and every curse is your own to bear."
He smirked. "Sounds like my kind of sin."
The spheres shattered, fusing into his body. Pain like molten fire and freezing water tore through his soul. Elyndra watched, a faint blush of fascination crossing her divine calm.
"You are reckless," she murmured. "And reckless souls… make the greatest stories."
The light consumed him again.
His second life had begun.
And somewhere, Elyndra whispered to herself, "Perhaps… this time, even a goddess might fall."