The ticking of an ancient clock echoed through the underground vault of Valtherion —
a place where time itself should not have existed.
Between circles of glowing blue runes, a crystal capsule slowly awakened,
its pulse beating faintly like the rhythm of a forgotten heart.
Inside that capsule, light shimmered softly.
No body. No blood.
Only fragments of consciousness — drifting like morning mist.
It was the final trace of Eldran Valtherion,
the Core of Valtherion, the legacy that held both his knowledge and his soul.
> "If you are hearing this… then I have long become part of time itself."
"And if this world still stands, it means you have found a reason to continue."
The voice did not come from any mouth.
It echoed directly within the mind — resonating with something deeper than a soul,
as if the memory had been written into the bloodline itself.
Above the vault, far beyond the forgotten chambers,
the world had changed beyond recognition.
Valtherion was no longer a kingdom — it had become a living machine,
a metropolis powered by the same logic that Eldran once dreamed of.
Towers of silver pierced the clouds,
rivers of pure energy flowed through crystal channels,
and the sky itself glowed with a permanent aurora,
a silent echo of the night when the first light was born.
But in that brilliance, something was missing.
The people of Valtherion no longer looked to the stars with wonder —
they only sought perfection, control, and certainty.
The dream of one man had turned into the system that chained his descendants.
Far below, the Core's light flickered once more,
and a whisper escaped — almost like a sigh.
> "The future I saw… was never meant to be perfect."
"It was meant to begin again."
The crystal's pulse grew stronger,
sending ripples through the network of ancient machinery buried deep beneath the city.
Somewhere in the labyrinth of steel and memory,
a faint voice responded — a young woman's voice, trembling yet resolute.
> "I can hear you… Grandfather."
The Core glowed brighter — as if recognizing her blood.
A forgotten protocol activated,
and lines of ancient symbols danced across the chamber walls.
At that moment,
the legacy of the first king finally began to move once more.
And with it —
the wheel of fate turned,
signaling the dawn of a new era for Valtherion.