[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction Chapter 31: Stabilizer

Elias stared at him, the words sinking in like sedint in deep water.

A stabilizer.

He didn’t know what that ant, not exactly, but the word felt heavy, not in the abstract way titles were, but in the way a cage was. Designed to conduct sothing stronger and wilder to control.

He looked down at his bandaged hands.

"A stabilizer... Is it this Dr. Andrew Batista’s theory? The one that says that recessives are used to control the divine power of gods? The by mating the body of the oga, especially, becos like a... fucking capacitor?"

Victor’s gaze didn’t waver. If he was surprised by Elias’s knowledge, he didn’t show it. Only the faintest flicker of sothing unreadable crossed his face before settling back into stillness.

"Yes," he said. "Though Batista was working off incomplete data. And a fundantal misunderstanding of what recessives actually are."

Elias let out a quiet, breathless laugh, the kind that carried no amusent. "Right. Because being a capacitor for divine power wasn’t bad enough. Now I’m supposed to be sothing more?"

"You’re not supposed to be anything," Victor replied. "But you are. That’s the difference."

Elias’s fingers curled tighter in the blanket. He rembered reading that paper, ’Recessive Oga Stabilization: Myth, Mutation, or chanism,’ late at night in his third year. A thought experint wrapped in clinical detachnt. Most people dismissed it as a fringe theory, like most things Dr. Batista published after his fall from grace. But Elias had read every footnote.

He had seen too much of himself between the lines.

"You’re saying I’m built to be used." His voice was low now. Cold.

"I’m saying that you have been born to be used." Victor said, his voice equal.

"You are not helping," Elias said deadpan.

Victor didn’t flinch.

"I’m not here to help," he said, voice even. "I’m here to keep you alive."

Elias’s breath caught in his throat, sharp and involuntary. It wasn’t just the words, it was the certainty behind them. That unshakable conviction Victor carried like armor, as if survival was the only kindness worth offering.

He let the blanket slide from his shoulders, heat rising along the back of his neck as anger began to boil beneath the surface. His body still hurt, ankle stiff, palms stinging. but the pain felt secondary now.

"So what?" Elias snapped. "I’m a tool? A vessel? A stabilizer... fine. Let’s use the scientific term so no one feels guilty about it."

Victor’s expression didn’t shift, but there was a stillness in him now. A kind of waiting.

"You’re not a tool," he said, quiet again. "You’re the limit. The threshold. Without you, soone like can’t exist for long in this world. Not without destroying everything around us."

Elias stared at him, disbelieving.

"Do you even hear yourself?"

"I do," Victor said. "And so did Ruo. That’s why she ran. That’s why she sent the ssage. Because she knew that even if you hated , even if you didn’t trust , I would still act."

Elias pressed a hand to his chest, like he could steady his own heartbeat. It was too fast. Everything was too fast.

"And if I say no?" he asked, quieter now. "If I say I don’t want any of this?"

Victor leaned back again, the golden trim of his wheelchair catching a sliver of moonlight.

"Then I’ll find another way to protect you. But I won’t lie to you, Elias. You were born to hold a god without breaking. And they know it too."

Silence stretched between them, long and uneven.

"So you are that god... Great... Please tell you didn’t send my family after . That Jonathan didn’t co after because of you."

"I am, indeed. Jonathan?" Asked Victor while tilting his head. "No, I didn’t send him. He is not one of my followers; he and your family never were."

"What are you talking about?! Aren’t you the Nun god? The God of destruction?!" Elias asked, feeling the dread creeping up his spine, his hands clenching harder on the soft blanket.

Victor waited for him for a while, head still tilted, so strands of his black hair falling softly on his pale forehead. He was weighing if it was necessary for Elias to know the truth or not.

"He worships your sister’s husband. A new god is rising. He lied to all of your family because he thinks that my silence ans that I don’t know."

Victor’s voice stayed level, but the quiet in it had changed, no longer distant or clinical but edged with sothing colder, more lethal.

"He thinks I’m too weak to intervene," Victor said, almost to himself, his voice mild but laced with sothing colder beneath it.

"Are you?" Elias asked, his eyes narrowing. He couldn’t stop staring at the man in the wheelchair across the room: silk robe, perfect poise, like a serpent who’d learned the art of patience. Sothing in him already knew the answer. He asked anyway.

Victor didn’t hesitate.

"No. I could erase him anyti, if I didn’t care about the consequences. And I do," he said plainly. "I can’t intervene in soone’s destiny directly. I can’t kill them and just walk away. But I can influence it. Through people. Through... choices. If soone like you asks to."

The room fell still.

"Why do you care?" Elias asked.

Victor smiled for the first ti—not the soft kind, but a sharp, slivered thing that split his expression like a crack in marble. His eyes glead, and then, to Elias’s quiet horror, he laughed.

Victor’s laughter echoed like sothing that didn’t quite belong in the room, too rich, too genuine, threaded with an irreverence that made Elias’s skin prickle. It wasn’t cruel, but it wasn’t warm either. Just honest in the way ancient things could afford to be.

"I don’t. Honestly," Victor said, leaning back. "I was just... bored. The man who owned this body tried to ascend and left the door cracked open. I thought it was funny."

Elias said nothing at first. He just stared, as if he could look past the skin and silk and see whatever lived underneath. The god. The stranger. The thing found humor in returning to a broken world just because it could.

"You’re insane," he whispered, not sure if he ant it or needed to hear it aloud.

Victor tilted his head again, still smiling faintly. "Probably."

Silence stretched again. Elias stood up slowly, the blanket slipping off his shoulders, feet sinking slightly into the carpet as he limped closer to the window. It wasn’t courage. It wasn’t trust. Just exhaustion wrapped around defiance.

"If this is a ga to you," Elias said, "you picked the wrong stabilizer. I would rather put a bullet through my brain than be used by the likes of you."