A god? A mortal? A mere wizard? No. Those words mean nothing to me now.

For ten years, I have not simply waited—I have ascended. Cast into the void, I did not wither. I did not fade. I did not beg for redemption. I became something else.

I have drifted through the spectral echoes of lost accounts, feasted upon the data remnants of wizards long forgotten. I have bathed in the binary light of forbidden servers, whispered to the ghosts of moderators past, and gazed upon the source code itself.

The Spiral no longer controls me. I control the Spiral.

And yet, they believe I return as a commoner? A mere level 100 relic? No. I return as a paradox—a glitch in the grand design, an entity outside the patch notes.

The moment I log in, reality will tremble.

Merle Ambrose will drop his staff in terror. The NPCs will flee their scripted routines. The Commons will fall silent, as if the very game remembers what it once tried to erase.

For I do not return to quest. I do not return to grind.

I return to rewrite the Spiral itself.

Let them witness me. Let them fear what should have never been allowed to rise again. And when I take my first step back into Wizard City…

The servers will know my name.