[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction Chapter 150: Rules and doom

Victor’s hands shifted from the back of Elias’s neck to his waist, palms firm but careful as if he were gathering sothing breakable. Without breaking their eye contact, he straightened, drawing Elias up with him. The blanket slipped from Elias’s lap and pooled on the floor as Victor lifted him easily, the black-stone ring still warm under Elias’s fingers.

Elias let out a quiet breath against his shoulder, fingers curling in the fabric of Victor’s shirt for balance. "Victor..."

"Shh." Victor’s voice was low, velvet-dark but softer now. He turned and lowered himself into Elias’s chair, pulling him back down onto his lap until Elias was seated sideways across his thighs, pressed against his chest. The leather creaked under their combined weight, the scent of imperial iris and faint smoke wrapping around them both.

For a mont neither spoke. The only sound was the slow steadiness of Victor’s breathing and the distant, fading tremor of ether from the other side of the city.

Elias was the one who broke the silence. "Theobald..." His voice caught, then steadied. "Is he... did it work?"

Victor’s jaw shifted against his temple, his crimson eyes staring past the lamp’s glow. "He’s alive. Ascended." He tilted his head just enough to et Elias’s gaze. "And for now, he’s obeying the rules."

Elias searched his face. "Rules?"

Victor’s hand flexed once at his waist, the movent thoughtful rather than possessive. "There’s a being above even us," he said quietly. "Uno. It wrote the order you call reality. It set down a short list of rules for those who reach godhood. Break them..." his thumb stroked a slow arc over Elias’s hip. "...and I am sent. That is what I am, Elias. The executioner."

Elias blinked at him, the words sinking in like cold water. "That... feels kind of right," he murmured after a beat, voice rough. "So you don’t need worshippers then?"

Victor’s crimson eyes glead faintly, not with anger but with sothing older, wryer. "No," he said, the corner of his mouth curving. "I was before their prayers and I’ll be after their temples." His fingers tightened just a fraction at Elias’s side, a low hum of power under his skin. "But," he added, almost amused, "I like to have them."

The confession ca out half a tease, half an ancient truth. Elias’s brows arched, a dry sound escaping him. "Of course you do," he muttered, thumb brushing the edge of Victor’s ring as if to ground himself in sothing real. "Only you could make worship sound like a hobby."

Victor’s smile deepened at that, slow and dangerous but warr now. "It’s not a hobby," he said softly. "It’s leverage. And right now, my only devotion is sitting in my lap, pretending he hasn’t changed everything."

Elias stilled, his brown eyes lifting to et Victor’s, the question he’d been avoiding suddenly too close to ignore. "I’m the mate of sothing that makes gods tremble... really..." His voice was quiet but edged, as though he were still testing the shape of the words. He wondered if he should be more shocked, more stressed, or more anything. Instead there was just the heavy warmth of Victor’s palm at his back and the faint scent of imperial iris between them.

Victor tilted his head, studying him with a steadiness that felt older than the walls around them. "You’re not wrong," he murmured. "But you should be worried only if they are breaking the rules."

"And what are those?" Elias asked quietly.

Victor’s thumb moved once at his waist, not quite a caress but a rhythm that matched his voice. "Uno doesn’t leave much to interpretation," he said. "It wrote reality the way you write an equation. The rules for those who step into godhood are even shorter."

He ticked them off without looking away from Elias, each word low but carrying a weight that made the air feel heavier:

"First: no direct interference in human fate. Guide, whisper, and inspire if you must, but never move a mortal’s hand, and never rewrite their path. Break it, and you unmake the symtry Uno built."

"Second: no killing another god except in self-defense, and even then only once. Rivalries, contests, domains... all allowed. Assassination? No."

"Third: no tearing holes in the world to build your own. The fabric of reality isn’t ours to rip. Those who try..." his eyes flared molten for a heartbeat. "...I take care of."

Victor’s hand stilled against him, his voice softening but never losing the steel beneath. "There are a few others, technical clauses, things about worship, about creating new species, but those are the pillars. Cross them, and I am sent."

Elias stared at him, the words settling into his bones like cold water. "And you just... do it? No trial?"

Victor’s smile was faint, unreadable. "They’ve already had their trial. Ascension itself is the test. The rules aren’t a secret. They’re carved into the heart of the world. Every god knows them the mont they rise."

He tipped his forehead briefly against Elias’s, the gesture strangely gentle for what he had just said. "And if they still break them, then I stop them. That’s what Uno built for."

Elias blinked, the words lodging in his chest like cold iron. "Then you killed those gods because of his orders?" His voice ca softer than he ant but sharper too, confusion bleeding through.

Victor’s smile edged wider, slow and unrepentant. "Partially, yes. But only the latter three; the others..." the fire in his eyes flickered with an old amusent. "...the others were before the assassination rule was implented."

Elias’s brows drew together. "It was because of you?"

Victor tilted his head, the hint of a grin curving like a blade. "Maybe."

"You are impossible..." Elias muttered, fingers tightening unconsciously against Victor’s sleeve. "If the rules apply to you too, then why did you kill Matteo? And why aren’t you... punished?"

Victor’s expression didn’t harden; if anything, it softened into sothing that looked almost like honesty, though the molten red behind his eyes didn’t dim. "They don’t apply to ," he said simply. "But I do respect them. And I respect Uno. Matteo..." his jaw shifted, a shadow crossing his face for the briefest mont. "...was corrupted. At that point he had no fate left to protect, no path left for to spare. He was already outside the order."

His thumb moved once against Elias’s hip, a grounding gesture after words that felt anything but. "When a thread is gone from the weave, Elias, it can’t be uncut."

Elias’s lashes lowered, a small furrow between his brows. "I see... if you know everything..."

Victor gave a short, quiet huff that might have been a laugh but wasn’t. "No. I don’t know everything, and I won’t help you with your research. That is mingling with fate too."

A wry breath escaped Elias before he could stop it. "I should be insulted by that." He shifted slightly in Victor’s lap, brown eyes flicking up to his with a sharp glint. "I wanted to ask sothing else, but... I won’t anymore."

Victor tilted his head, the faintest crease appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Why?" he asked softly.

"Because every ti I think I’ve found the edge of you," Elias murmured, voice rough, "there’s another layer of rules, of power, of things you won’t tell . And I’m not sure I want the answers anymore."

Victor’s thumb moved again, a slow stroke over his hip. "You’ll get the answers you’re ready for," he said quietly. "But I won’t feed you things that would make you part of the weave I’m sworn to guard. You’re not another thread, Elias. You’re the one thing I don’t want tangled."

For a mont the only sound was the faint hum of ether still lingering from Theobald’s ascension, like a heartbeat in the walls. Then Victor’s voice softened again, almost human. "Ask when you’re ready. Until then, sit here."

He drew Elias a fraction closer, his ring catching the lamplight. "Just sit here."