Most people heard the voice of the system on their sixteenth birthday — usually during a ceremony, or after their first kill, or during a moment of stress. It arrived with fanfare, a glowing sigil in the sky, and the proud declaration of a class that would define their future.
Kael Virex heard… nothing.
No sigil. No voice. No purpose. He passed his Class Rite in silence while the others celebrated. While friends became Fireblades, Iceweavers, Rangers, and Wardens, Kael left the temple empty-handed, a ghost in a world shaped by titles.
Now, eight years later, he was still ghosting through life.
He poured another glass of bitter ale behind the bar of The Shattered Horn, wiping at the sweat rolling down his neck. The tavern smelled like fried meat and desperation, packed with low-ranked adventurers blowing their pay or lying about kills. His manager, a squat woman with a bark louder than her bite, shouted something unintelligible from the back, but Kael ignored her.
The laughter. The bragging. The clink of enchanted steel.
It all made him feel... hollow.
---
"You still classless, ghost boy?"
Kael turned. The voice belonged to Dren, a Brawler class idiot who'd failed to make Tier 2 for three years running. He was halfway through a bottle and entirely too loud.
"Still working here. That answers your question," Kael replied, calm.
Dren smirked and leaned closer. "You know, I heard people who don't get a class are cursed. Maybe touched by a Sin." He winked. "Maybe you're just broken in the head."
Kael didn't answer. He just kept cleaning the counter, letting the comment sink into silence. Dren eventually got bored and wandered off, but the words stuck.
Cursed. Broken. Maybe he was.
Because lately, something had been changing.
It started with the dreams.
Not nightmares — not exactly. But vivid, layered things. Seductive whispers from a woman he'd never seen but somehow knew. A presence. Sometimes she laughed. Sometimes she moaned. Sometimes she just... waited.
And Kael woke up harder, hungrier, and more empty every time.
---
That night, it broke.
The tavern had emptied. Rain lashed the windows. Kael stood alone near the door, locking up, when his vision blurred — just for a second.
And then he heard it.
A voice. Inside his skull.
> "System Detected… Anchor established… Sin Resonance confirmed."
He staggered back, pulse hammering. A sigil lit the air before him — a swirling mark of crimson and black flame, hovering in silence.
> "Welcome, Lustbound."
Pain followed. Not physical — it was something deeper. Something primordial.
Heat surged through his skin. His vision flashed white, then gold, then something wet and red. He felt his body stretching, twisting, not in form but in desire — like every suppressed need in his life screamed awake all at once.
And somewhere behind it all… she was laughing.
The presence from his dreams. Watching. Approving.
Kael fell to his knees, gasping.
> "L.U.S.T. Protocol initializing. Sinborn classification complete.
Essence Level: 0.
Class: Incubus.
Subsystem: Emotion Drain.
Aura Status: Dormant.
System Lock: False Identity Required."
His hands shook. His skin felt too tight.
The world would never look the same again.
And the system wasn't done.
> "Begin induction: Claim. Feed. Ascend."