Standing just beyond hulking metal gates, with walls a story and a half tall at his back, Rune stared forward in quiet awe.
'I could never really see inside here before. I only knew it was big from the perimeter.'
What lay beyond the gates was not just a house.
It was a proper manor, the kind he had only ever read about in stories. Where nobles lived, the sort of place that didn't feel real until you were standing in front of it.
To the right sat a stable with a small fenced field for grazing. To the left was a wide structure that looked like a garage, large enough to hold multiple carriages.
A paved road ran straight toward the estate before curving around an intricate fountain. Ten statues stood in a circle at its center, all carved to face outward, like guardians watching the grounds.
Further in, there was a training yard of decent size, with an outbuilding set off to the right. He counted three outbuildings in total, and one of them could easily be converted into a storehouse.
And beyond it all, dominating the view, stood the manor itself.
Four stories tall, with the main building at its center and a wing extending from each side.
"How has someone not come and snatched this place up? I get that it's probably creepy to stay here by yourself, but still…"
He didn't waste any time. Rune stepped back and placed his palm against the cold metal of the front gate.
A message surfaced in his mind.
[No current owner found]
[Would you like to register Manor #3 in District 11 as your place of residence?]
"Yes."
Blue light washed over Rune and rippled across the property, tracing the outline of the gates, the walls, and the manor beyond.
[Residence registered with the World Tree]
Rune blinked.
"You know… this is the second time I've seen the world tree mentioned when it comes to the system." His brow tilted. "I wonder why nobody talks about it when they talk about the gods."
Another message appeared immediately, before he could think further.
[Memory of the World activating…]
The manor, the gates, the light, all of it began to fade as the world slipped away.
Right before it vanished completely, Rune muttered under his breath.
"That one's on me."
As his vision came back, all Rune could see was a sapling planted in fresh, dark soil.
It looked nothing like any tree he had ever known. Its trunk was not formed from solid wood, but from roots and vine like strands braided together, coiling upward in a slow spiral as if the tree had been woven rather than grown.
He couldn't see anything else.
No sky. No ground beyond the small patch of dirt. No surrounding landscape.
It was as if he were looking through someone else's eyes, standing directly in front of it, close enough to see the fine texture of each braided strand.
A voice spoke from behind him.
"Brother… is this it? Is this what you've been working on all this time?"
"Yes," a voice came out of the person he was embodying. "This is it. My hopes and dreams given form."
A brief pause, filled only by the quiet presence of the sapling.
"It will bring life to this world," the voice continued. "And it will provide a structure for that life to grow."
The first voice sounded hesitant.
"Are you sure this is the right thing to do? It's so different from what the others do."
The reply came without anger, but with a quiet firmness.
"And how does their way always work out?" A faint edge entered the voice, not cruel, just resolved. "With you by my side, and the others beside us, we can do this."
The speaker continued, with conviction in every word.
"Let's put our dreams into this."
A reverent pause.
"Our world tree."
"Revelis."
The memory faded, and Rune found himself standing in front of the manor once more, his hand still resting on the gate.
For a moment, he didn't move.
"Was I just…" Rune swallowed. "Was I just looking through the eyes of the creator of this world, after he planted the world tree?"
The name lingered in his mind.
Revelis.
It drifted through his thoughts like a fragment that didn't belong to him, yet somehow fit too perfectly to ignore. The sound of it carried weight, pulling at something deep inside Rune, stirring feelings he couldn't name and memories he couldn't reach.
Just as Rune felt like he was about to catch hold of the feeling, a woman's voice rang out from around the corner, sharp with frustration.
"I told you I don't want to join you! You should've figured that out when I kept walking away! You even followed me into a dead district. Who does that?"
Rune stepped out through his gates and into the street.
Six men stood in a loose circle, surrounding a familiar blonde girl.
'Miri… no. Kathryn.'
One of the men took a step forward, speaking like he was delivering a verdict.
"We told you. We received a gospel from the Unnamed One himself. It said you must join the Ascended Path, and walk with us to salvation."
The Ascended Path was one of the six great factions, and easily the most zealous. They worshiped the Unnamed One as if he were the answer to every suffering. In their eyes, he was salvation itself. The one who brought the worthy here, bestowed power, and granted eternal life.
Kathryn's jaw tightened as she stared them down.
"I said I am not joining your faction. Stop bothering me." Her voice rose, steady but furious. "I don't want to follow some shady god who dragged us here against our will and dangles promises about some unknown prize at the end of some rainbow."
One of the men, the only one wearing robes instead of armor, slapped Kathryn across the face.
The sound cracked through the empty street.
Kathryn's head snapped to the side. She didn't fall, but the impact left her still for a moment.
The robed man stepped closer.
"How dare you speak down on our god, your god, the only true god of this world." His voice dripped with certainty. "He has given you everything."
He lifted a hand as if he were granting mercy.
"You will come with us. We will teach you what it means to worship him." His mouth curled. "You will learn."
A hand clamped down on his shoulder.
A grip that locked him in place.
The robed man stiffened as he was turned around by sheer force.
Rune stood there.
His posture was still, but the air around him felt sharp, like something had been pulled taut. His eyes were fixed on the man in robes, and the expression on his face was one Rune had not worn once since arriving in this world.
Pure rage.