Anthony looked at his hands. They were the same hands, yet different. He stood up, and suddenly, knowledge began to flood his mind. But it wasn't like the fragmented memories others reported. This was absolute, complete understanding.
He saw the principles of fire, not as chemistry, but as the essence of combustion and spirit. He understood the structure of the earth, the flow of water, the intangibility of wind. He understood mathematics not as equations, but as the fundamental language of the universe.
"Magic..." Anthony breathed out. The word felt natural on his tongue. "I am a Mage."
But not just any mage. The voice spoke again, calm and resonant.
I am the Archmagus Aetherion. I have lived for ten thousand years. I have walked among gods and demons, I have created worlds and unmade them. I am a Millennium Soul, one who has transcended the need for repeated rebirth.
Anthony's eyes widened. "A... Millennium Soul?"
Yes, Aetherion replied. Ordinary souls awaken at thirteen because they are weak and need time to integrate. I did not awaken then because my power would have crushed your infant spirit. I waited until your mind was strong enough to bear my legacy. You are not useless, Anthony. You are the host of the most powerful existence this era has ever seen.
Wave after wave of insight crashed into him. Alchemy, Enchantment, Rune-Craft, Strategic Warfare, Divine Physiology. He knew it all. He felt the vast Mana reserves opening up inside his dantian, a swirling galaxy of power.
He walked to the window and looked at the moon. He wasn't the same boy anymore.