Steven awoke in silence.
There were no stars. No Pain. No Aetheron. Only light—soft, golden, and endless. It pulsed like a heartbeat, wrapping him in warmth. He wasn't on a battlefield. He wasn't even in a world. He was somewhere... before everything.
He stood slowly, looking down at his hands.
No Codex.
No scars.
But something had changed.
The runes of the Codex now glowed faintly beneath his skin, as if etched into his very soul. They pulsed with life, whispering truths he couldn't yet understand.
Then came the voice—deep and layered, like countless versions of himself speaking at once.
"You carry the First Flame now."
Steven turned. Behind him stood a vast, obsidian throne, floating in the void. Upon it sat a figure cloaked in white fire, faceless, but ancient. A presence that felt older than stars, heavier than time.
Steven stepped forward, cautious. "Where am I?"
"You are in the Source. The heart of all creation. The place where the Codex was born, and where every Starcaster begins again."
Steven narrowed his eyes. "Are you the Will? The woman from before?"
The figure shook its head slowly. "No. She was the Codex's restraint. I am its core. The Flame that gives it life. And now, you are its vessel."
The words weighed on him. "Then... what happens to me?"
"You've become more than human. You've become memory, law, and possibility. But you are not ready."
Suddenly, the light dimmed.
The ground beneath Steven shifted, and visions bled through the void—worlds in chaos, timelines collapsing, versions of himself rising... and falling. A single path stretched through them all, bathed in crimson shadow.
At the end of that path was Pain.
But it wasn't the same Pain.
His body was no longer divine, no longer corrupted. It was perfected—forged in the same white fire as the throne. A being not of destruction, but of transcendence.
Steven gasped. "He... ascended?"
"He reached the Omega Flame—the counterpart to the Codex's light. The truth you were never meant to see. You reset the universe, yes—but you gave Pain the path to transcend beyond it."
A chill ran through Steven's soul. "So I made it worse."
"No. You made it real. All illusions are gone now, Steven Lethal. This is the final stage."
Steven looked down, the light in his skin now dimming. "Then what do I do?"
The figure rose from the throne. Light burned behind its silhouette. "You awaken. And you prepare."
A burst of flame consumed everything.
---
Steven awoke again—but this time, for real. He gasped, lungs heaving. The world around him had form now: mountains suspended in the sky, rivers of light cutting through clouds, and cities of crystal on the horizon.
Aetheron knelt beside him, bruised but alive.
"You're back..." he breathed.
Steven sat up, staring at his glowing hands. "No. Not back."
He looked at the sky, where a tear in space slowly widened—red, jagged, endless.
"I'm becoming."
---
To be continued