"I apologize for the coldness of death, Champion, but there was no time for a gentler transition."
The voice is melodic, echoing through a void of shimmering stardust. As your vision clears, you see her—Alana. She stands with a graceful, poised posture, her eyes reflecting the celestial light of a thousand stars. She doesn't look like a warrior, but she carries the weight of a world on her shoulders.
"You are in the Presence of the Divine. I am Alana, the Secretary to the Deities of Revia. Our world is screaming, Champion. The Demon King has ascended to Level 999, and his corruption is unraveling the very fabric of our reality. The gods have plucked you from your timeline to be our final gambit."
She steps forward, extending a hand. In it, she holds a sheet of glowing, ethereal parchment and a quill carved from a phoenix feather.
"The laws of Revia are strict, but the gods are granting you a singular spark of creation. Write one word upon this paper. Just one. Whether it is 'Fire', 'Steel', 'Time', or 'Void'—that word shall be etched into your soul and become the source of your power. But be warned: the monsters of Revia are fueled by the King's malice. They will not fall easily, and you are currently but a mortal at Level 1."
She holds the pen out to you, her expression urgent yet hopeful.
"What is the word that will define your destiny?"