His connection to the elents was no longer dictated by skill trees or activated abilities.
They obeyed his subconscious now. Think of fire, and it danced in his blood. Think of gravity, and it shifted. The laws of nature were no longer unbreakable. They were suggestions. Loose ideas. And Pyris? He rewrote them with ease.
He sat up slowly from his bed, and as he did, the space around him cracked—not visually, but structurally. The air warped. Geotry folded inward. And then, without flash or sound, he disappeared.
The next mont, he stood above the city—directly over the do-glass rooftop of the massive arena where the Ga Launch was unfolding. His arrival didn’t disturb the sky, didn’t stir the wind. But space around him rippled with minute fractures that healed instantly, like the cosmos was rushing to correct itself around his existence.
His eyes opened fully—lit from within by a deep, dark golden glow, tinged with faint, ominous red. They weren’t eyes anymore. They were revelations wrapped in flesh.
[Fate Nesis Eye activated.]
[Ding! Death Eye ability has been devoured by Fate Nesis Eye.]
He felt it, but he didn’t react. Of course it had. Of course the Death Eye, powerful as it once was, had been absorbed—not erased, but refined. Its sight, its perception, its ability to glimpse the end of life, had now beco a thread within the larger tapestry of the Fate Nesis Eye—an eye that didn’t just see fate, but opposed it, unraveled it.
Everything around him was visible—not in light, but in essence. He saw the molecules in motion, the tension in the air, the electrochemical pulses in the minds of those below. Nothing was hidden. Lies, thoughts, intentions—they all stood exposed beneath his gaze, like shadows caught under a god’s eye in a world that thought it still had secrets.
Below him, thousands gathered, celebrating the Ga Launch, cheering in blissful ignorance. They believed this mont was the beginning of a new era for the Mortal Realm. But they didn’t know. Not a single one of them knew that in the dark, above them, a force had awakened—an entity no longer bound to ranks or realms.
Pyris watched quietly. Power didn’t need to be declared. His existence was the declaration.
{Fate Nesis Eye!}
The mont Pyris had fully activated the Fate Nesis Eye, the world changed—not in color, not in brightness, but in clarity. What was once invisible beca understandable. Not just seen, but known.
The very laws of reality unfolded before him like ancient scrolls etched across the layers of space.
Fire, water, air, gravity, ti—he no longer perceived them as simple forces or elents. Each was a law, a woven thread of logic and intention birthed during the early pulses of Existence. And now, those threads unraveled themselves before him.
They bowed to his gaze, not out of fear, but as if they were eting the eyes of soone who authored them.
The elental codes danced in geotric patterns around everything—hexes, golden rings, light-grids that pulsed in fractals and recursive feedback loops. The formulas of thunder hovered near clouds. Fire laws spun like spirals inside furnace systems. Even space had structure—he saw it like interlocked sheets of crystal, layered in invisible strata, each with subtle cracks waiting to be pressed just right.
And then there were the threads of Existence.
They stretched from everything—people, places, even shadows—glistening in translucent filants of color. Every thread was tied to fate, to consequence, to probability. He saw them weaving in and out of each other, forming fate fabrics—huge veils of interconnectivity that spanned through the do, across the city, beyond the planet.
Pyris could see which thread pulsed with deceit, which glowed with ambition, which flickered with decay.
The system chid again, quieter this ti, like it knew it was interrupting sothing sacred.
[Ding! Host has gained a new Fate Nesis Eye ability: Foresight. You can see three seconds into the future.]
A second later, he activated it, a faint echo appeared in the air before him—like an overlay in a cosmic comic panel. He moved his hand—and saw it move before he did. Three seconds. Not much... but in a fight, it might as well have been immortality.
And this? This was only the first ability. The Eye had more. Much more. But it wasn’t sothing to be given. It had to be unlocked. Explored. Earned.
Below, inside the vast do of glass and neon steel, the ceremony continued. Testers were stepping into sleek obsidian ga pods—one by one. But now, it wasn’t just civilians. It was the ruling leaders of the Mortal Realm. The greedy vampire king, known to most—Dracula, and the pompous, overfed Human Emperor were the first to slide into their pods—chuckling, fat with ambition and delusion.
Pyris smirked.
What did these fools even know? Nothing. They were walking straight into a domain shaped by his other self. Hopefully, that version of him—his Earthbound soul—would whip their asses across the ga’s code and carve his legacy in their failures.
His gaze drifted from them... to the won leaders now gathering. Not politicians. Powerhouses. Empresses, Sorceress, the Priestess, The Demon empress And yet, one drew his attention deeper than the rest.
The Beastfolk Empress.
His Fate Nesis Eye locked onto her. Around her soul, the white fabrics of Existence’s laws coiled tightly—binding her core like ceremonial wrappings. She wasn’t suppressed. She was shielded. Guided.
"An immortal... huh?"
It hit him like a whisper from Liez’s warning about immortals. The Empress was now one of them. Not a puppet. Not mind-controlled. It was a willing alliance. She had chosen their side—the Immortals.
The more he looked across the do, the more Pyris realized the truth.
Everyone here—every single powerhouse—wanted a piece of his family.
Even Zolo Vallen, the enigmatic ruler of the Aether Dominion, who stood on the edge of the platform like he was watching stars die for fun. Even the Crown Prince of the Human Empire, whose fate-thread glowed with pride, obsession, and underlying dread. He’s the one who stood out most amongst the humans young royal generation and even among other royalts, he was a force of his own—radiating with divine branding that nearly offended Pyris’ senses—was Heris, the so-called Sun God. The Prince was Heris’s champion.
Or more accurately?
The Sun God’s obedient little slave boy.
Pyris’ eyes glead darker, the dark glow in his pupils pulsing once, like a warning from the universe itself. They all thought they were playing a ga.
But they had no idea what had just awakened above them.
Reviews
All reviews (0)