The shattered light of the dual suns shimmered like phantom auroras across the Sky Bastion's shields. As the Bastion trembled beneath another tremor from the core, Aeneas gripped the steel banister, his mind a chaotic lattice of memory—some not his, some far too vivid.
In his last life, he was Kael Varn, a scholar turned revolutionary on a drowned Earth. He had watched oceans swallow cities, his inventions twisted into weapons. Betrayed by the very council he built, he died in exile with a single wish: to remember.
Now, reincarnated in this strange, fragmented star system, he awakens with all his former intellect, scars, and rage intact. But this world is different—it runs not on physics, but on a volatile force called Elythium. And somewhere in its radiant chaos lie the gods who engineered his death... and his return.
Aeneas: Character Development
Core Traits: Brilliant, haunted, analytical, wry. Aeneas doesn't mourn easily—he calculates grief like variables in a theorem—but buried deep is a furious compassion for those forgotten by the powerful.
Flaw: Aeneas is too self-reliant, often mistrustful of allies. His past b
The Sky Bastion trembled as another Elythium surge rippled through its hull. Cracks spiderwebbed across the dome above, casting blue firelight onto the rusted control spires. Aeneas stood alone at the precipice, eyes fixed on the twin stars bleeding into the void like wounded beasts.
His hands, calloused yet unfamiliar, gripped the metal rail—proof he did not belong to this body. He flexed his fingers. No scars from the forge. No burn marks from prototype failures. Not Kael Varn, and yet... he remembered it all. The drowning Earth, the betrayal, the cold silence that followed.
Behind him, the city stirred. Mechanized pilgrims crossed energy bridges between floating isles. Sky traders bartered in half-forgotten tongues. Above them, the Obsidian Throne rotated in low orbit, casting its judgmental shadow.
Aeneas turned.
He hadn't come here to mourn.
He'd come to break the system that tried to erase him.
"Codex," he called, his voice gravel-laced and strange in the Bastion's charged air.
A pulse blinked in the air—a luminescent geometric AI formed in fractals. "Awaiting parameters," it replied.
"Locate node-archive 7A on the Orphan Isle. Unlock the Council Records. All cycles."
There was a pause—then static.
"Access denied. Archive sealed under Prime-Seal: Exile Protocol."
He smiled grimly. "Still afraid of ghosts."
Turning back to the shattering sky, Aeneas whispered, "Then let's haunt them."