God of Death: Rise of the NPC Overlord

There are children who are born inside prophecy.

And then there are those who are born from it.

Syllas had once been a boy.

An orphan of a broken city. A shadow-touched mind with a spark Darius had kindled.

But what returned now was not the same boy.

He stepped into Spiralspace like a glitch dragged out of an unwritten page.

Eyes flickering between centuries.

Breath syncing with forgotten verses.

His spine arched unnaturally, as if bearing the weight of a thousand possible futures—and rejecting all but the one that burned.

His first word was not a word.

It was a Chapter.