“I was only three and a half years old, living in a damp basement and beaten daily by Enoch Pruitt with a heavy leather whip. "Get up, you useless waste of space!" He always told me I was a stray he had picked out of the garbage. But during one brutal beating that nearly stopped my heart, time froze, and a glowing figure called The Chronicler appeared. "You are not an abandoned orphan, Clare. You carry the blood of the highest gods." He revealed that I was the stolen daughter of the ultra-wealthy Barrett family. Then, he showed me the horrific ending of my previous life. I had died right here on this bloody dirt floor. My real parents and three brothers went completely insane with grief, turning into ruthless monsters who destroyed themselves and the entire world to avenge me. Meanwhile, the Pruitt family kept torturing me, locking me in a woodshed and feeding me moldy bread. The memory of my bones breaking and my real mother's agonizing screams crushed my chest. Why did I have to suffer like an animal while my true family tore the world apart looking for me? This time, I refused to die in the mud. I accepted my divine blood, my eyes glowing gold as I summoned a bolt of purple lightning to strike my abuser. I just needed to survive the night. Because my real father's heavily armed convoy was already tearing up the mountain, ready to burn this hell to the ground.”