Hah…
It had started.
Just as he intended.
Just as he remembered from that grainy, half-corrupted gameplay footage—the way the system had flickered and stuttered as the trial began syncing with the player's body. The way their movements began to carry just a little too much weight, like gravity itself had changed its mind about them.
That was the moment the inheritance began to fit.
To test. To teach. To burn its shape into you until there was no distinction between the motion and the meaning.
And in that flicker—just one frame—an identifier had popped up.
Most players missed it.
But Damien hadn't.
It had read:
[Source: Legacy-Class—The Unbreakable One]
No title.
No name.
No guild. No faction. No divine lineage.
Just that.
Unbreakable.
In the lore, the figure barely existed.
A ghost.
A contradiction.
Some historians claimed he was the last mortal to walk unshielded through the Ninefold Heavens.
