In the world of Dagon, on the Polenia continent, a massive war is taking place. This war was between the Great Alliance and the armies of the Skeleton King.
The Skeleton King, a being body that's half skeletal and half machine. A evil being that wishes to destroyed the barrier Otherworld to the Netherworld and release the Dark Ones.
Currently, the Alliance has finally been able to reach the stronghold Citadel of the Damned and is preparing to assault it in a final gambit to stop the evil one in its track. The Alliance force consisted Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Draenei, Gnomes, Tieflings, Beastmen, Orcs, Genasi, Demons, Giants, and Angels.
They brought total number of their armies of 99,500,589,100 S-Class, 1,000,000 SS-Class, 200 SSS-Class and 3 X-Class personnel. They attacked mutated army of the Skeleton King with their full force and were met with a horde of every boss class monster and above present in the world full corrupted by the Skeleton King. As the Alliance force fought and killed the army of boss class monsters, more were summoned by Skeleton Mages. This was one of the reasons why the Alliance orchestrated this assault. The more people died to the Skeleton King, the stronger he grows and he almost ready to summon of his Outer Gods to the Otherworld.
There was no way about it. The Alliance had to destroy it as soon as possible, or else a Calamity-Class monster will be unleashed to the world.
The Skeleton King stood unmoving at the crown of the Citadel of the Damned, his skeletal half etched with ancient runes and his mechanical half humming with cold, calculated precision. Beneath him, the war raged in its most brutal crescendo. The Alliance had committed everything. Spells powerful enough to terraform continents collided with corrupted titans. Dwarven siege cannons fired compressed suns. Elven archmages sang harmonic destruction into the marrow of undead dragons. Angels clashed with fallen seraph constructs in the burning skies.
Still, the tide turned against them.
The horde adapted.
When Dwarves shifted to seismic suppression, the undead became winged. When Angels deployed radiant saturation, the enemy evolved void-absorption membranes. When Orc berserkers initiated shock-wave formations, counter-units emerged that mirrored their fury with mechanical precision. Skeleton Mages stood in ritual circles across the battlefield, sacrificing entire regiments of summoned horrors to fuel fresh abominations. Each fallen Alliance soldier fed the Skeleton King. Each death strengthened the core within his chest.
The S-Class fell first in waves. Then SS-Class captains began to vanish from the front lines. One SSS-Class commander was impaled by a bone-lance the size of a tower. Another was dragged beneath the earth by skeletal colossi. Of the three X-Class champions, one had already expended half her lifespan sealing a Nether breach that tore open mid-battle.
Hope thinned.
The sky darkened not from storm clouds, but from pressure. The summoning circle within the Skeleton King's chest reached ninety-eight percent completion. The barrier between Otherworld and Netherworld began to fracture in visible lines of crimson light that stretched across the heavens like veins.
Then the phenomenon occurred.
It began as silence.
Not the absence of sound, but the absence of permission.
Spells faltered mid-incantation. Arrows hung motionless in the air. A Giant's warhammer froze inches from crushing a necrotic hydra. Even the howling winds around the Citadel ceased, as though the world itself had been commanded to wait.
A pulse radiated outward from somewhere above the battlefield.
It was not mana. It was not divine light. It was not demonic force.
It was something older.
The sky split in a perfect circle directly above the Citadel. Not torn. Not shattered. Opened, like an eye.
From that opening descended a pillar of pale, geometric radiance composed of rotating sigils no scholar of Dagon had ever catalogued. The pulse expanded across the battlefield, and where it passed, corruption withered. Mutated flesh sloughed off bone. Necrotic enchantments unraveled into inert ash. Even the Skeleton Mages screamed as their summoning arrays collapsed into dust.
The Skeleton King reacted immediately.
His mechanical half shifted configuration. Cannons reoriented. Wings of segmented alloy unfolded from his spine. The core within his chest flared to full capacity as he redirected the nearly complete summoning ritual into raw destructive output. A beam of concentrated void-energy lanced upward toward the descending light.
The beam struck.
The radiance did not move.
Instead, the beam fragmented, refracted into thousands of harmless motes, and dissipated like mist before a rising sun.
A figure emerged from within the descending pillar.
Humanoid in silhouette, though their proportions seemed slightly wrong, as if drawn by someone who had only heard rumors of anatomy. Their armor was seamless, silver-white with veins of shifting script across its surface. A mantle of energy flowed behind them, not fluttering like cloth but flowing like equations solving themselves in real time. In their right hand rested a long, narrow blade of translucent crystal that bent the surrounding air as though reality were reluctant to touch it.
They did not land with force.
They stepped onto the air itself and began walking downward.
The battlefield watched.
The Skeleton King's voice rolled across the plains like grinding tombstones. "Foreign entity detected. Origin unregistered. Authority invalid. This world is under reclamation."
The figure reached the ground.
When they spoke, their voice carried across the battlefield without volume, resonating directly within the minds of every sentient being present.
"Reclamation denied."
The Skeleton King unleashed everything.
Thousands of boss-class monsters were sacrificed simultaneously, their bodies liquefying into raw necromantic power that surged into the King's core. His mechanical half detached into orbiting weapon platforms that fired gravitational lances. His skeletal half expanded, ribs elongating into serrated wings, skull splitting into layered maws chanting in dead tongues.
The ground liquefied into bone and steel. The sky blackened. The incomplete summoning circle flared as he attempted to force open the barrier prematurely.
The figure moved.
Not quickly, but inevitably.
Each step forward erased something. A cannon platform vanished as though it had never existed. A gravitational lance collapsed into a harmless ripple. A mutated dragon dissolved mid-scream, its corruption peeled away to reveal only drifting particles of light.
The Skeleton King adapted, recalculated, evolved new configurations in fractions of seconds. Nanite swarms fused with necrotic energy. Counter-signatures formed to resist the unknown force.
The figure raised their blade.
They swung once.
A line appeared across the battlefield, stretching from one horizon to the other. It was not a cut in space. It was a cut in influence. Every corrupted entity on the far side of that line simply fell apart, their animating force severed from the Skeleton King's control.
The Alliance felt the pressure in their minds lessen for the first time since the war began.
The Skeleton King roared and activated his final contingency.
The summoning circle completed.
The barrier shattered.
For a moment, the heavens opened to reveal something vast pressing against the divide. Shapes without geometry. Eyes without location. A presence that reduced mountains to trembling sand.
A Calamity-Class manifestation began to emerge.
The temperature of the continent dropped. Oceans recoiled. The souls of the living strained against their bodies.
The figure looked upward.
They extended their left hand.
The fracture in the sky halted.
Then it reversed.
Not sealed by force, but rewritten. The edges of the barrier reformed, knitting themselves together under new law. The emerging silhouette beyond the rift was pushed back, its form distorting as if reality itself rejected its entry.
The Skeleton King staggered for the first time.
His core destabilized.
"No," he hissed, thousands of voices fracturing. "This outcome was not within probability."
The figure vanished from the ground and reappeared before him, suspended at eye level. Up close, the Skeleton King's mechanical sensors attempted analysis, but returned nothing. No mana signature. No divine imprint. No demonic resonance.
The blade pierced the center of his chest.
There was no explosion.
Instead, there was subtraction.
The fusion of bone and machine began to separate, as if undone by a cosmic scalpel. The necromantic network spanning the continent flickered violently. Every undead creature paused in unison.
The Skeleton King attempted to self-detonate, channeling the remaining power of his core into a catastrophic implosion designed to erase Polenia entirely.
The figure placed their free hand upon his sternum.
A sphere formed around them, composed of interlocking sigils that rotated faster and faster until they blurred into pure white.
The detonation occurred.
The shockwave struck the sphere and folded inward, compressed into a shrinking point of light no larger than a coin. The sphere contracted, absorbing the entirety of the blast.
When the light faded, there was nothing left of the Skeleton King.
No ash.
No scrap.
No echo.
Across the continent, every undead construct collapsed simultaneously. Skeleton Mages crumbled. Corrupted beasts reverted to inert matter. The oppressive aura that had weighed upon the world lifted like a suffocating blanket torn away.
The Citadel of the Damned began to disintegrate, its black spires cracking and dissolving into harmless dust.
The Alliance stood in stunned silence among the ruins of what had nearly been the end of their world.
The three X-Class approached the lone figure, weapons lowered but ready.
"Identify yourself," one demanded, her voice steady despite the devastation around them.
The figure turned toward them. The glowing script across their armor dimmed slightly.
"I am not your enemy," they replied. "I am a failsafe."
Before further questions could be asked, the sky above shimmered once more. The circular aperture reopened briefly, though this time no pressure emanated from beyond it.
"You were not the first world he targeted," the figure continued. "You will not be the last world threatened. The Dark Ones search for weaknesses. He was one such weakness."
"Are there more?" another X-Class asked.
"Yes."
The word settled heavily over the battlefield.
The figure's form began to destabilize, flickering between clarity and transparency.
"The barrier will hold for now. Strengthen it. Prepare. When the next fracture appears, you must stand ready without intervention."
With that, the aperture closed, and the figure vanished completely.
The battlefield remained.
The Alliance had won.
But victory felt less like triumph and more like reprieve.
Far beyond the barrier, in the depths of the Netherworld, entities older than stars shifted their attention toward Dagon. The attempt had failed, but resistance had been observed. Calculations began anew.
On Polenia, the survivors gathered their wounded and honored their fallen. The war against the Skeleton King had ended.
The greater war had only just been noticed.
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Orbs of light floated everywhere in a blindingly bright room. There were so many that the single orb with a faint purple, black, white, and blue tint could not even begin to count them all. Granted, it had no idea how it got here in the first place, but the atmosphere was strangely peaceful.
Time passed. At least, it assumed time passed. It no longer understood what time even meant. Its memories felt scrambled, slippery, hard to grasp. Thoughts drifted apart before they could fully form.
Or maybe that was because of the busty angel standing in front of it.
The angel in front of it was tall, radiant, and built in a way that would have made sculptors weep and priests question their vows. Golden hair cascaded over her shoulders. A white and gold robe clung to her figure in ways that felt unfairly intentional. Her chest rose and fell in a slow, measured rhythm that the soul found deeply fascinating.
Her chest was… impressive.
The soul stared without hesitation.
The angel spoke, though her beautiful face was slightly strained as the human soul in front of her made absolutely no attempt to avert its gaze. It had been a very long time since such a shameless soul had crossed the Well of Reincarnation.
"Race: Human. Age of Death: 31. Virgin. Karma: 3,000,000."
The angel blinked, surprise flashing across her features at the unusually high karma value attached to the soul before her. Three million was absurdly high. Most humans barely scraped a few thousand. Saints reached into the hundreds of thousands. Three million implied a life of extreme restraint, repeated self-sacrifice, and adherence to moral codes so rigid they bordered on masochistic.
Which explained the partial retention.
A soul with that much accumulated positive karma resisted full purification. The Well had tried to scrub it clean, but the density of accumulated virtue acted like a protective shell. The ego dissolved, but the informational structure remained largely intact.
In short, he had lived like a monk with internet access.
"Hello, mortal soul," she began, voice calm and official. "You have died, so there is no point in attempting to remember your past life. Your memories were purified upon entering the Well of Reincarnation. This is standard procedure to ensure a balanced cycle—"
"But I remember everything, big boob angel," the soul interrupted cheerfully. "Well… mostly. I don't remember me. Or time. Or why I like breasts so much. But I know what music is. I remember songs. I don't have a favorite band though. That feels unfair."
The soul tilted slightly, gaze lowering again without shame.
The angel's jaw tightened.
Color crept into her cheeks. It had been centuries since a soul had been this casually disrespectful within the sacred chamber. Most arrived confused, terrified, repentant. This one arrived… ogling. But it also explains many other things.
That was why he remembered concepts, religions, songs, random cultural knowledge, and apparently an enduring fascination with anatomy. The emotional context was gone, but the data remained.
"Now we will proceed with your reincarnation in accordance with the Rule of Buddha," she said, regaining her composure.
"India was right?" the soul asked, sounding genuinely stunned. "But you look like you walked out of a Renaissance cathedral. So Christianity was right too? And maybe the Aztecs? Is this a group project?"
The angel pinched the bridge of her nose.
"All major belief systems contain fragments of truth," she said flatly. "The afterlife is administrative. We adjust presentation based on the cultural expectations of the incoming soul. If you were born in another region, I would look different."
The soul paused.
"So you're saying you customized yourself like this because this is what I'd respond to?"
She did not answer that.
"Your memory retention is a side effect of your accumulated karma," she continued instead. "Your personal identity was removed, but your cognitive framework remains intact. Think of it as losing your username but keeping the operating system."
"That's… actually kind of terrifying."
"Existence is not designed for comfort," she replied dryly.
The golden screen expanded, displaying branching options that stretched infinitely outward. Races. Worlds. Power systems. Difficulty settings. Skill trees that twisted like galaxies.
"With three million karma points, you may reincarnate as nearly anything within regulated dimensions," she explained. "You may purchase abilities, modify your starting conditions, adjust talent growth rates, or alter species parameters. However, certain divine-tier and Outer-tier authorities remain restricted."
The soul drifted closer to the screen.
"So I can min-max my next life?"
"If that is how you wish to phrase it."
"And there's no catch?"
"There are always catches," she said calmly. "Karma spent is karma lost. The more you optimize for power, the less margin you have for error. Reincarnation with overwhelming strength often invites overwhelming opposition. The multiverse prefers balance."
The soul hummed thoughtfully.
"I don't remember my name," it said slowly. "But if I was that moral and still died a virgin at thirty-one, I feel like I deserve at least one overpowered run."
The angel's blush returned.
"You are aware that your… fixation is unusually intense?"
"I lost my identity. Let me have this."
She sighed.
"Very well. Design your next existence. Choose carefully. Once you confirm, the process cannot be undone."
The screen pulsed brighter.
Somewhere beyond the chamber, the machinery of reincarnation turned.
And in the endless white space filled with drifting souls, one particularly shameless orb began scrolling through the menu of its next life with dangerous enthusiasm.
[Choose Race][Human: 5,000,000 Karma][Elf: 750,000 Karma][Dwarf: 600,000 Karma][High Orc: 500,000 Karma][Beastkin: 400,000 Karma][Spirit Folk: 1,200,000 Karma][Half-Dragon: 1,300,000 Karma][Celestial-Blooded: 1,800,000 Karma][Demon Aristocrat: 2,000,000 Karma][Ancient Titan Spawn: 2,500,000 Karma][Avatar Wyrmling Lizard: 1,500,000 Karma]
[...]
Looking at the races, the soul was not shocked that Human was the most expensive among the common races. Humans were absurdly adaptable. Short lifespan, insane growth rate, ridiculous potential ceiling. The sheer number of evolutionary branches under the Human tab alone was enough to make the menu lag. High Human, Sage Human, Battle Human, Saint Vessel, Mana Reactor Host. It was like a buffet designed by a god with ADHD.
Still… safe was boring.
There were even animal races listed that actually refunded karma. Slime Hatchling: +50,000. Forest Rodent: +120,000. Lesser Cave Worm: +300,000.
Yeah. Hard pass.
The soul drifted lower down the list, ignoring the weak options and the overpriced holy trust-fund babies. It wanted power. Not prestige. Not politics. Power.
Then it saw it.
[The Wyrmling Lizard is descent of Ancient Dragon and Ancient Elemental Gorja. Being all use multiple elemental are once this race is very powerful once grown up, but often fallen to stronger monsters and adventurers before maturing since their blood is a great bonding agent.]
Now that… that was sexy.
The preview image rotated in the air. A sleek, scaled body with iridescent plating. Eyes like molten gemstones. Small but elegant horns curling back from a narrow skull. Wings not yet massive, but structured for terrifying expansion. Elemental aura flickering across its scales in subtle pulses of fire, lightning, frost, and something deeper.
A wyrmling wasn't just a baby dragon. It was a premium version. Like comparing a regular human to some myth-tier evolution that bench-pressed mountains for cardio.
One point five million karma.
That hurt.
Worth it.
The selection pulsed.
Karma Remaining: 1,500,000.
Still rich.
[Choose Gender][Male: 5 Karma][Female: 5 Karma]
The soul paused.
It did not remember its old body. It did not remember its face. It did not remember its name.
But it remembered liking breasts.
That felt like a clue.
Statistically speaking, odds favored former male.
Also, dragon king energy sounded better than dragon queen energy for whatever reason its scrambled instincts were suggesting.
Five karma was basically pocket lint.
[Male] selected.
Karma Remaining: 1,499,995.
The next screen unfolded like a skill tree on divine steroids.
[Skills]
[Mutations]
[Traits]
The numbers were insane. Hundreds. Thousands. Some even priced in the tens of thousands. A few rare options blinked in red, costing six figures.
This was what three million karma got you. A sandbox with cheat codes.
It take long for him to pick out his skills, mutations, and traits.
Skills
▸ [High Dragon Bloodline Lv 1 — 500 Karma]The blood of a High Dragon floods your veins, refining your draconic ancestry into noble purity.+15 VIT, +10 MAG, +15 STR, +15 AGI per level.Minor resistance to elemental backlash.Instinctive dominance over lesser draconic species.
▸ [Flight Lv 5 — 1,000 Karma]Advanced aerial control from birth. From flight or flight magic.
▸ [Swimming Lv 5 — 1,000 Karma]Streamlined aquatic movement. Enhanced lung capacity and underwater maneuvering.
▸ [Climbing Lv 5 — 1,000 Karma]Scaled surfaces with ease. Claws find purchase on stone, bark, and bone.
▸ [Running Lv 5 — 1,000 Karma]Explosive ground acceleration. Efficient stamina usage.
▸ [Parkour Lv 5 — 1,000 Karma]Urban and forest traversal mastery. Wall rebounds, mid-air redirection, environmental exploitation.Yes. Dragons can absolutely do parkour now.
▸ [Digging Lv 5 — 1,000 Karma]Burrow through soil and softer stone. Rapid subterranean escape routes.
▸ [Camouflage Lv 1 — 5,000 Karma]Chromatic scale adjustment to blend with surroundings. Limited to basic terrain mimicry at this level.
▸ [Hunting Lv 1 — 50 Karma]Enhanced predatory instincts. Tracks scent, movement, and weakness patterns.
▸ [Venom Sac Lv 1 — 4,000 Karma]Produces paralytic toxin. Delivered through bite or claw. Potency scales with level.
Survivability secured.
Then came magic.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
▸ [Water Magic Lv 7 — 100,000 Karma]Can use Water Magic
▸ [Fire Magic Lv 7 — 100,000 Karma]Can use Fire Magic
▸ [Earth Magic Lv 7 — 100,000 Karma]Can use Earth Magic
▸ [Air Magic Lv 7 — 100,000 Karma]Can use Air Magic
▸ [White Magic Lv 2 — 50,000 Karma]Basic healing, purification, minor barrier formation.
▸ [Black Magic Lv 2 — 50,000 Karma]Curse application, mana drain, shadow binding at low intensity.
White and Black escalated brutally after Level 2. He would branch into advanced subtypes later. For now, elemental dominance was the goal.
One more essential cheat.
▸ [Scan — 10,000 Karma]
Allows user to view personal stats and analyze other entities. Normally restricted to humanoid races.
Totally unfair.
Totally based though.
If humanoids got stat screens, so did he. Equality through force.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
[Traits]Each only 10 Karma. Practically theft.
▸ [Strong Body]Dense muscle fibers. Increased physical output.
▸ [Strong Magic]Improved mana efficiency and control.
▸ [Flexible Muscles]Greater elasticity. Reduced injury from extreme motion.
▸ [Nimble Body]Enhanced reflexes and balance.
▸ [Enhanced Hearing & Voice]Wide frequency detection. Sonic intimidation capability.
▸ [Keen Sense of Smell]Chemical tracking over long distances.
▸ [Reinforced Frill & Hair Growth]Thickened crest and sensory filaments. Minor defensive benefit.
▸ [Quadra Wings]Four functional wings instead of two.Superior aerial stability and acceleration.
▸ [Omnivore]Can digest plant and animal matter efficiently.
▸ [Gills/Lungs]
Can breath underwater and on land.
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[Mutations]
This was where things got spicy. He didn't want to overdo it, but some upgrades were non-negotiable.
This was where evolution got dangerous.
▸ [True Draconic Regeneration Lv 1 — 400,000 Karma]
Gradual regeneration of lost tissue.Severe wounds recover over time.Does not restore instantly, but prevents permanent maiming.
▸ [Blade Tail Lv 1 — 50 Karma]
Tail tip hardens into a sharpened, cleaving edge.
▸ [Harpy Eagle Talons Lv 1 — 50 Karma]
Crushing grip strength. Improved piercing and lift capacity.
▸ [Conodont Teeth Lv 1 — 50 Karma]
Layered inner fangs for shredding flesh. Increased bite retention.
▸ [Pit Organs Lv 1 — 50 Karma]
Thermal vision through specialized sensory pits. Detects body heat through obstacles.
▸ [Multi Vision Lv 1 — 50 Karma]
Expanded peripheral awareness. Reduced blind spots.
▸ [Adaptive Scale Armor Lv 1 — 150,000 Karma]
Scales harden in response to repeated damage types. Gradual resistance build-up.
▸ [Apex Predator Presence Lv 1 — 90,000 Karma]
Instinctive dominance aura.Weaker creatures hesitate, tremble, or flee.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
He reviewed everything. He was so going to overpowered.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"So that's how it happened." He said out loud.
Small. About the size of a large puppy. Maybe three feet from snout to tail tip, not counting the blade extension. His scales were deep black with faint iridescent undertones that shimmered blue and violet when light hit just right. Not bulky. Not lumbering. Sleek.
Four wings flexed behind him. Two primary wings anchored near his shoulders. Two secondary wings slightly lower along his back. They weren't massive yet, but the muscle density was obvious. Compact power.
A long, narrow snout. Rows of sharp conodont teeth hidden behind closed jaws. Harpy-grade talons dug lightly into the dirt beneath him.
He turned his head slightly. A mane of dark, coarse frill-like hair ran from the back of his skull down along his neck. Not fluffy. More like a predatory crest. Decorative and slightly intimidating.
His tail swayed once. The tip ended in a hardened, curved blade that gleamed faintly. He looked nothing like a Dragon.
Like a crocodile mix with a Komodo Dragon lizard which is still cool as hell to him.
He was now a Avatar Wyrmling Lizard. A monster that could evolve and grow stronger by kill other monsters, animals, and so forth. Because of the dragon blood inside of him, the need to grow a horde and army was strong.
Feeling his new body, he tired to call his stats too what his base looked like.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[Status Window]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Name:—
Race: Avatar Wyrmling Lizard
Gender: Male
Level: 1/5
Karma: 0
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[Stats]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
STR: 185
VIT: 210
MAG: 240
AGI: 195
Combat Power: D+
Magic Power: C-
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[Skills]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
High Dragon Bloodline Lv 1
Flight Lv 5
Swimming Lv 5
Climbing Lv 5
Running Lv 5
Parkour Lv 5
Digging Lv 5
Camouflage Lv 1
Hunting Lv 1
Venom Sac Lv 1
Water Magic Lv 7
Fire Magic Lv 7
Earth Magic Lv 7
Air Magic Lv 7
White Magic Lv 2
Black Magic Lv 2
Scan Lv 1
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[Traits]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Strong Body | Strong Magic | Flexible Muscles | Nimble Body | Enhanced Hearing & Voice | Keen Sense of Smell l Reinforced Frill | Quadra Wings | Omnivore
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[Mutations]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
True Draconic Regeneration Lv 1 | Blade Tail Lv 1 | Harpy Eagle Talons | Lv 1 | Conodont Teeth Lv 1 | Pit Organs Lv 1 | Multi Vision Lv 1 | Adaptive Scale Armor Lv 1 | Apex Predator Presence Lv 1
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
If the rankings are to believed he wasn't that strong at all. Did he do something wrong? The traits had done what they said given him a strong body and magic. Stronger than average for his species.
The only thing was to give himself a name.
"Now let it be known, world," he declared in a sharp, draconic hiss that echoed farther than his size should have allowed, "that I, Deva, will rule it!
The system responded instantly.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[Status Window]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Name: Deva
Race: Avatar Wyrmling Lizard
Gender: Male
Level: 1/5
Karma: 0
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The blank line was gone.
Replaced.
Deva.
It felt right.
Short. Sharp. Slightly arrogant.
Perfect.