The realm of gods trembled as I stepped away from the dying embers of the guardian's bones.
My skin shimmered with sigils I didn't recognize but somehow understood—markings not of worship, but of warning. A language older than this world, etched into me like scars. My blood burned with the fire I had claimed, but I felt no pain anymore. Just purpose.
I had walked into this place half of who I was.
Now I walked out divine.
The Flame Gate still stood behind me, quivering with the aftershocks of my awakening. I approached it, silver light bleeding from my hands as I touched the arch. The stones pulsed in recognition. It would open again, now that I commanded it. Now that I had become what I once was—and more.
"Take me home," I whispered.
The portal obeyed.
Wind and light collapsed inward, and with a final pulse of power, I stepped through.
