Right there, sitting at that small wooden table with his mouth full of beast meat, Sol made a silent, ironclad promise to himself.
He would never cower again.
He would not hide behind these wooden walls waiting for the monsters to come. He would not let the sheer scale of beings like Elyndra paralyze him with fear. He was going to live this second life spectacularly. He was going to push his limits, devour his enemies, and take whatever the hell he wanted from this universe.
And so what if he died doing it? So what if an enemy tribe or a Layer 4 Apex finally got the best of him?
At least this time, he would die standing on his own two feet. At least this time, he would die happily, completely devoid of regrets, knowing he had swung his sword until the very last breath.
In that exact moment, a profound, heavy transformation rippled through Sol's mind.
