Suddenly, the air cracked.
Riven flinched, instinctively stepping back. The ground didn't shake—space did. Like a glass dome shattering above an invisible world, the skies split apart with a soft chime.
And through the cracks, he saw it—
The battlefield.
The place of his trial.
That endless plain where he'd fought, bled, roared, and crawled. Where his fists shattered the faceless shadows and his bones screamed for rest. The same void, now... glowing.
Millions of shadowy figures—once formless nightmares—began to flicker like dying bulbs. Then, one by one, they ignited into light.
And from that light—they emerged.
People. Beings. Real, living souls. Of all kinds. Men, women, children. Some with wings, others with horns. Not human, not exactly. But people. Free now, blinking and breathing as if waking from a thousand-year sleep.
Riven raised a brow. "Excuse me?"
"They belong to you."
He frowned. "You say that like I bought a subscription."
The realm gave a soft laugh. "You may command them, shelter them… or abandon them. Their fate is yours to shape."
Riven stared out over the glowing figures.
Quiet. Watching him.
A sea of eyes. Waiting.
And for once, Riven didn't feel annoyed or sarcastic. He felt… responsible.
He slowly reached into the inside pocket of his coat—one that hadn't existed before today—and pulled out the Realm Stone.
It pulsed in his palm like a star caught in glass. Raw. Primal.
"Alright," he whispered. "Let's do something... different."
He clenched it—and the world shifted.
Light spiraled out from the stone, etching runes into the ocean's surface. The stars bent. The moon blinked. And then—land rose. A massive island burst from the water beneath them, formed of pale crystal and dark soil. Trees sprouted, winds shifted, a sun blinked to life above.
A realm. A home.
He turned to the realm's voice behind him.
"You said this place was beyond comprehension. Well—this settlement… this will be our edge. Their new beginning. And maybe... my own."
The beings slowly began to descend into the land that bloomed for them. No longer faceless. No longer cursed.
They had a name now.
And a place.
Given by the boy who fought with nothing but his fists.
"Call it..." Riven paused, then grinned. "Fistreach. No, wait—Shadowfall. Hm... actually I'll come back to that."
The realm chuckled, its voice low and oddly… proud.
"You're a strange one."
Riven turned. "Yeah. But I make strange look good."
Riven dusted off his coat, adjusted the black grimoire strapped to his side, and stared down at the radiant realm he'd just created.
"Anyway…" he turned back to the realm's voice, stretching casually. "So is there anything else you wanna say before I peace out? Maybe some final cryptic wisdom? A prophecy? A coupon?"
A soft chuckle echoed across the skies.
"Yes. Just one thing."
The space around him rippled gently, like the surface of a calm lake touched by wind.
"One year here equals... one second outside your world."
Riven blinked. "…Wait, what?"
"In other words," the voice continued with a smile audible in its tone, "you'll return to exactly the same place, the same moment, where I... borrowed you."
"Oh." Riven raised a brow. "So you're telling me I went through all this life-threatening magical chaos, made a pocket civilization, absorbed a sword, got rich, almost lost my soul—and when I go back, nobody's even gonna notice I was gone?"
"Precisely."
"So… I can come here anytime, right? Since I'm the shiny new owner of this realm?" Riven asked, half-smirking as he watched the horizon ripple like glass.
"Yes," the realm replied, its voice low and resonant, like distant thunder in a calm sky. "Time is yours here. Stay a day, stay a year. The world you came from will never know the difference."
Riven grinned, flipping his hair back with mock arrogance. "Ah, finally—real estate that respects my schedule."
A soft portal of light shimmered open in front of him, its edges glowing like the dawn through stained glass. Wind brushed past him, tugging gently at his coat. The realm stirred with a quiet hum, as if recognizing the end of a chapter.
He turned his head for one last look.
The ocean stretched endlessly, holding the colossal World Tree in the center like a sacred monument. Beneath its shade, the people who had once been void-puppets now wandered, alive and reborn, their settlement beginning to take root.
His people now.
His responsibility.
His creation.
Riven took a breath.
"Alright," he said, waving lazily over his shoulder. "Take care of them till I'm back, yeah? Don't let any of them accidentally start a cult in my name. That's how world-ending religions start."
The realm chuckled faintly. "You underestimate your influence."
"Pfft, I'm twelve," he shrugged, stepping toward the glowing portal, hands in his pockets. "They can worship me after puberty."
As the light enveloped him, he paused with one foot in the gateway and glanced over his shoulder, voice softer now.
"Hey... thanks. For everything. Even if you're the weirdest landlord I've ever met."
The realm didn't answer—but the leaves of the World Tree rustled gently, almost like a nod.
And then—with a flash of light and a faint distortion in the air—Riven Altharys vanished, stepping out of eternity and back into a world that hadn't even noticed he'd been gone.
Not a second passed.