Kael woke with a strange feeling in his chest. Not pain. Not fear. Just… pressure. A slow, steady thrum behind his ribs, like a second heartbeat out of sync.
It was still dark outside, the kind of early morning haze where even the birds hadn’t made up their minds about singing yet. Rimuru floated beside the window, glowing faintly gold.
“You're up early,” Kael muttered, pulling on his hoodie.
Rimuru squeaked and wobbled like a compass needle.
“Mana disturbance detected southeast of Emberleaf,” Great Sage intoned. “Unstable. Organic. Dormant.”
Kael paused. “That's a lot of adjectives.”
“Discovery potential: High.”
He sighed, sliding on his boots. “Alright, you win. Rimuru? Recon mission?”
Rimuru spun like a cheerleader and zipped to his shoulder.
Kael tiptoed across the village paths and quietly knocked on Nanari’s workshop.
She opened the door in a haze, glasses askew. “It’s still dark.”
“There’s something pulsing out past the moss line.”
Nanari handed him a glowing green stone. “Mana compass. Tracks anomalies. Don’t die. I just fixed the forge.”
Kael grinned. “I’ll do my best.”
The forest past the moss line was thick with dew and fog. Kael moved carefully, branches brushing his shoulders, leaves dampening the sound of his footsteps. Rimuru floated ahead, glowing with muted light.
No birdsong. No wind. Even the mana in the air felt... heavier. Like breathing through honey.
Kael whispered, “I swear, if this is another cursed toadstool grove, I’m throwing you into the river.”
Rimuru beeped in protest.
“Anomaly proximity: thirty meters,” Great Sage said. “Path curvature suggests unnatural geometry.”
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“So… a weird clearing?”
“Correct.”
They stepped into the glade.
It was perfect. Too perfect.
The circular clearing was ringed by ancient stone markers and luminous mushrooms. At the center stood a tree unlike any Kael had ever seen.
Twisting roots, bark laced with glowing runes, and leaves that shimmered between green, gold, and silver. The sight stirred something in Kael—an odd mixture of reverence and déjà vu, like he was staring at a place from a dream he hadn't dreamed yet. The air around it pulsed—not with sound, but pressure. Like a heartbeat.
“This is... alive,” Kael breathed.
Rimuru drifted forward slowly, drawn by something neither of them could name.
“Warning,” Great Sage said, without urgency. “Contact likely to trigger event. Harm probability: 0.0001%.”
Kael hesitated. “That seems suspiciously low.”
Rimuru landed at the base of the tree and touched one of the glowing roots.
The world snapped white.
Kael floated.
There was no ground. No sky. Just black, with flecks of emberlight drifting past like ash.
Seven thrones appeared before him.
Each was unique. Each radiated power.
The throne of Wrath was molten stone, rimmed in flame.
Pride's was golden, but cracked down the center.
Envy's half-submerged in a reflective pool.
Lust's buried in silk and petals.
Sloth's sat still, frozen.
Greed's built from chains and coins.
Gluttony's pulsed like a heartbeat.
Kael stepped forward, drawn to Wrath.
Just before his fingers touched its armrest, the Flame Mirror appeared behind it.
It reflected not him, but a silver-eyed girl standing atop a mountaintop shrouded in fog.
Her eyes met his.
The mirror shattered.
Fire consumed everything.
Kael gasped and jolted upright. Rimuru was in his lap, pulsing sky-blue.
The tree's glow had dimmed, but its heartbeat remained.
Then it whispered—not in sound, but in his mind.
“Remnant.”
Kael shivered.
“Dryad root-nexus confirmed,” Great Sage said. “Awakened. Ancient connection to lost kingdom: Luxoriath. Recognition pattern incomplete.”
Kael rose to his feet and approached the base of the tree.
With the edge of a rock, he carved a sigil into the bark—the new emblem of Emberleaf.
The tree pulsed once in acknowledgment.
They walked home in silence.
Kael looked down at the cracked earth where the glade ended and whispered, “That cracked throne… it felt like it knew me.” He paused, troubled. What did it mean for a throne to recognize someone? Was it a warning? A promise?
“Interpretation: Your alignment is shifting. Your role is not fixed.”
Kael snorted. “Great. Identity crisis and world prophecy. All before lunch.”
Rimuru rested on his shoulder, unusually quiet.
As they neared the village, Kael paused on a low ridge, looking back toward the hidden glade.
He sighed. “I’m not telling Nanari about this yet. She’d try to harvest the bark for potion ingredients.”
Rimuru gave a soft chirp that sounded dangerously close to agreement.
Kael glanced upward through the trees, stars still fading into dawn.
“Guess we just found our first monument.”
He ran his fingers along Rimuru’s smooth surface, grounding himself. This wasn’t just about carving symbols into bark. This was about declaring presence. About leaving proof that they existed—and endured.