Pain.
That was the first sign Kael Draven wasn't dead.
The second?
The smell of burnt moss, cracked spirit stones, and what he could only describe as roasted ego.
His ego. It smelled kind of like ash and disappointment.
Kael blinked slowly, trying to focus. Blurred stars danced across his vision, like someone had dipped the sky in paint and smacked it with a hammer.
Groaning, he sat up. The ancient ruin he'd entered earlier had been reduced to glowing rubble. Stones etched with celestial runes were cracked and flickering. A wide blast crater surrounded him—he was dead center. Shirtless, shoeless, and, as he quickly realized...
"Great," he muttered, inspecting the remains of his pants. "Exploded right off me. That's not even impressive, that's just rude."
Something hummed in the air—like a voice buzzing through a crystal. Then it spoke.
"Congratulations," the voice said, ancient and echoing, yet weirdly snarky. "You've survived the Astral Core backlash. Probability of that was… 0.00001%. Are you a cockroach?"
Kael froze. "...Did a relic just sass me?"
"I am not a relic," the voice replied, offended. "I am the Sentient Soul Imprint of Grandmaster Veyrix the Void-Forged, Devourer of Suns, Bane of—"
Kael raised a hand. "Okay, hold up, Grandmaster Vey-something."
"Veyrix."
"Right. Two questions. One: am I dying?"
"You are very much alive, albeit... barely. Your Astral Veins are partially fused. Your spiritual core is unstable. Your soul signature is fluctuating like an undercooked beast egg. But you're alive."
"Great. Second question..." Kael looked down. "Do you know where I can find pants?"
There was a pause. Then, from the fractured ceiling above, a robe floated down like a divine miracle—sparkling silk embroidered with faint constellations.
He caught it mid-air. The fabric was warm, glowing faintly, probably worth more than his entire village.
"Stylish," Kael said, wrapping it around his waist toga-style. "Now I just need sandals and a meal that doesn't explode."
"You are remarkably calm for someone who just survived a cosmic implosion."
Kael smirked. "Yeah, well. When life chucks you into a forgotten ruin and your pants explode, you either laugh or cry. I don't have tears left, so here we are."
The voice of Veyrix let out what sounded like an ancient sigh.
"You are now bonded to the Astral Forge, a cultivation path lost to time. With it, you can ascend beyond the stars—if you don't accidentally destroy yourself first."
"Cool, cool," Kael said. "And does this come with an instruction manual? Or am I supposed to wing it while my liver glows?"
"Your liver is fine. Your spleen, however... questionable."
Kael stood slowly, taking in the devastation. The central altar was cracked in half. The glowing glyphs that once pulsed with energy were now flickering like dying fireflies. And in the middle, where the Astral Forge had once floated, there was only a faint, star-shaped scar in the stone.
He'd come here expecting disappointment. Just another dead-end ruin his late father had once whispered about in bedtime stories. But instead... he got this.
"You said I fused with the Astral Forge?" he asked, stretching his limbs and wincing.
"Yes. Against all logic, your broken Astral Veins adapted. Instead of rejecting the Forge... they bonded. You are now something entirely new."
"So, I'm... unique?"
"Or a freak of cultivation nature. The line is thin."
Kael grinned. "Well, I've always been a trendsetter."
Elsewhere…
Storm clouds brewed over the cliffs of the Sky Shard Sect.
A woman stood barefoot on the balcony of a spire, robes billowing, her eyes reflecting the stars. Her presence rippled with quiet authority.
"He survived the Trial of the Void?" she asked softly.
Behind her, a hooded elder knelt. "The ruin was consumed in astral backlash, Lady Seris. Yet... he emerged."
"Interesting." A slow smile tugged at her lips. "The boy with broken veins. Perhaps he is more than a footnote after all."
"Shall we eliminate him before the others find out?"
"No," she said. "Let him climb. Let him struggle. There's more entertainment in watching hope rise... before we crush it."
Back in the ruin…
Kael took one last look around, then tied the robe tighter.
His body ached. His veins pulsed with unfamiliar energy. His spirit core, if that's what it was now, throbbed like it had its own heartbeat.
And yet, despite it all, he smiled.
"Alright, Astral Forge," he muttered. "I'm Kael Draven. Seventeen, orphan, broke. Recently pantsless. I don't know what I just bonded with, but if you give me power... I'll find my own path."
He turned to the exit tunnel, limping forward.
"Also," he added, "I wouldn't mind a few cultivation manuals, a magic snack, and maybe a pretty girl who doesn't want to kill me."
From somewhere in the shadows, the soul imprint chuckled darkly.
"You'll get one of those things. Probably."