The tower stood in eerie silence, the faint hum of the Stardust Gem resonating against Ryuxian's chest. He ran his fingers over the smooth surface of the pendant, feeling the pulse of energy within—a fusion of his own power and the divine essence of the God of Fate.
He closed his eyes.
Threads of fate shimmered before him, delicate yet unbreakable. They wove through the air, some leading far beyond his understanding. This was the power he had inherited—the power to weave destiny itself.
"But power alone is never enough."
A sudden shift in the atmosphere made him snap his eyes open. The air grew dense, as if reality itself were resisting something unseen. Ryuxian turned toward the doorway, where a shadow flickered against the morning light.
A figure stood at the threshold, clad in robes as dark as the void. Their presence sent a shiver through the fabric of fate, threads twisting and fraying unnaturally.
"A Shadow Weaver," Nyx whispered within his mind, her voice sharp with warning.
Ryuxian's grip tightened on the Stardust Gem. The Weavers of Fate were meant to maintain balance—but Shadow Weavers were different. They did not weave fate; they consumed it.
"You carry something that does not belong to you," the figure spoke, its voice eerily smooth.
Ryuxian narrowed his eyes. "You're talking about the gem, aren't you?"
The Shadow Weaver stepped forward, and Ryuxian immediately saw the threads of fate around it start unraveling, turning into wisps of nothingness. This wasn't just manipulation—it was destruction.
"That power was never meant for mortal hands," the entity continued. "Give it to me, and I will spare you."
Ryuxian let out a slow breath. "Sorry," he said, cracking his knuckles. "But I didn't go through all that pain to hand this over to some shadow freak."
The air trembled.
The Shadow Weaver chuckled. "Then you have chosen suffering."
Darkness exploded outward, devouring the room in an instant. The threads of fate around Ryuxian snapped, breaking away like brittle glass.
For the first time, the power of fate itself was being stripped from him.
And the battle for destiny had begun.
The room trembled under the weight of unraveling threads, the very fabric of reality fraying as the Shadow Weaver stepped forward. His presence alone distorted the fate surrounding him, warping it into a chaotic abyss.
Ryuxian gritted his teeth, instinctively reaching out to the Stardust Gem, feeling its pulsing warmth against his skin. This wasn't just any enemy—this was someone who had once been like him. A Successor.
"Nyx," he called in his mind.
"I know," Nyx's voice echoed, calm yet urgent. "He was once chosen by fate, but he fell into the abyss. His threads are severed, his essence is corrupted."
The Shadow Weaver lifted his hand, and the air grew heavier. "I was once where you stood, Ryuxian. A successor, a weaver of threads. But do you know what I learned?"
Dark tendrils erupted from his palm, striking toward Ryuxian like spears. Ryuxian barely managed to dodge, flipping backward as the attack tore through the stone floor.
The Shadow Weaver continued, his voice filled with twisted amusement. "Fate is a prison. We successors are nothing but puppets, bound to an endless cycle of servitude. But I found the truth."
He stepped forward, and reality itself rippled. The golden threads of fate around them snapped, turning into black wisps that vanished into nothingness.
"I broke my chains, and now I am free."
Ryuxian's eyes darkened. "No. You didn't break free. You just let the darkness consume you."
He surged forward, the Stardust Gem glowing with celestial energy. A golden thread shot from his fingertips, aiming to bind the Shadow Weaver in place.
But the figure merely laughed, catching the thread with his bare hand.
"You still don't understand, do you?" the Shadow Weaver murmured. "This power—you are only scratching the surface."
With a sharp pull, he yanked Ryuxian forward, his other hand forming a blade of void energy.
Ryuxian had no time to react—
—until Nyx intervened.
A shimmer of silver light burst forth, the wings of the celestial moth expanding around Ryuxian. The attack was redirected, the void blade missing him by a breath.
"I won't let him erase you," Nyx whispered, her energy reinforcing Ryuxian's own.
Ryuxian's body blazed with renewed strength. He lashed out, threads of fate weaving around his arms as he struck the Shadow Weaver with everything he had.
Their battle tore through the Realm of Fate, golden and black threads clashing like storms in the sky. Every strike from Ryuxian sent waves of celestial energy, while the Shadow Weaver's attacks corroded fate itself, erasing everything in its wake.
It was a battle of creation vs. destruction.
But Ryuxian was losing.
His breaths grew ragged. His body ached. The Stardust Gem flickered, struggling to maintain his energy. He wasn't strong enough yet.
"Ryuxian, we need to go!" Nyx urged.
But the Shadow Weaver wasn't letting him escape.
Black threads wrapped around Ryuxian's limbs, dragging him toward the abyss. The Shadow Weaver grinned, his void blade raised for the final strike.
"This is where your thread ends."
A deep, rumbling growl echoed through the realm.
The air split apart as an overwhelming presence descended.
A golden flash streaked between them, severing the black threads binding Ryuxian.
The Shadow Weaver staggered back, his eyes narrowing. "...Lynx."
A figure stepped into the light—his emerald eyes glowing with raw power, his aura so vast it made the entire realm tremble.
"The boy is under my protection," Lynx said coolly. "Leave, Shadow Weaver. Or I will force you to."
The Shadow Weaver exhaled, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he seemed amused—then, with a flick of his hand, he vanished into the abyss.
Ryuxian collapsed to one knee, gasping for breath.
Lynx sighed, stepping forward. "You're reckless, Ryuxian."
"...Yeah," Ryuxian muttered, forcing a tired grin. "But I'm still alive, aren't I?"
Lynx chuckled, shaking his head. "Barely."
As Ryuxian steadied himself, he looked down at the Stardust Gem, still glowing faintly.
The battle had nearly cost him everything.
But one thing was clear.
The war for fate had only just begun.