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As Ikki gazed upon the destruction wrought by his blow, he cracked his neck, a slight relief easing his muscles.
Just as he was about to return to his group, something completely unexpected occurred.
The invisible particles of Nemesis's existence, the remnants of her essence, began to flow towards him as if possessing a will of their own.
The [Conceptual Void] within him acted autonomously, rapidly absorbing each fragment of the Goddess's being.
As this happened, a surge of power infiltrated every cell of his body, filling the gaps in his being. It wasn't a complete fulfillment, but the sheer immensity of it felt like he had almost reached his limit, even though he hadn't even attained 1%, he was infinitely closer because of it. The sensation was paradoxical, as if he were being consumed and filled simultaneously, a feeling that caused him to lose himself momentarily.
In that instant, Ikki entered a state of enlightenment. His mind grasped the laws governing Nemesis's concepts of [Balance], [Retribution], and [Justice] to the point where they materialized within him, altering his body and granting him an innate mastery over the three concepts. It was as if he had become a "God" of retribution, justice, and balance, taking Nemesis's place, albeit on a different scale.
But that wasn't all. By comprehending these three concepts, a new world of understanding opened before him.
He felt an unexpected connection, as though the very fabric of the universe was unfolding before him. His mind wandered the infinite staircase of concepts and laws while the [Nameless Manual] operated automatically, the words spoken at the beginning of eternity, which he had already grasped, helping to elevate his existence.
With this, the Laws of [Lightning] and [Wind] became complete within his mind. Ikki felt a synchronicity with these elements that transcended any physical power. White lightning crackled around his body, illuminating the surroundings as if the entire sky responded to his newfound understanding. The energy of wind and electricity enveloped him, not merely as forces, but as extensions of his own essence. He was now attuned to the winds that swept across the planet, the electrical currents that coursed through the heavens. It was as if he had become the God who controlled these two Laws of the world.
This caused his [Conceptual Void] to reach one percent.
But it wasn't over yet. He even benefited from understanding the concept of [Magic], increasing the percentage by ten.
Furthermore, fragments of Nemesis's memories flowed into his mind. He understood why she was at the docks with the young Asian boy named Ethan Nakamura. Kronos had asked her to help kill everyone and capture Thalia. As the goddess of balance, retribution, and revenge, Nemesis had authority over luck. She could bestow misfortune upon anyone with too much good fortune and good luck upon those with too much misfortuneāthe Titan believed that luck was the only thing that could favor him against Ikki nowāand that wasn't all. Nemesis could even alter fate for a price. Her son, Ethan, had given her his eye in exchange for more power and the ability to escape from the Hunters and campers once he learned they were together, an idea of Kronos, aware of her power.
With this, he understood the concept of "Fate."
[Fate]āthe concept that had always eluded his grasp, that always seemed beyond his reachāfinally revealed itself, even if only partially.
He sensed the invisible threads that stretched across all existence, weaving events and lives like an impossible tapestry. The hands of the old witches were everywhere, shaping the world in directions no one could imagine.
But what struck him most forcefully wasn't the grandeur of Fate itself, but the painful truth that accompanied this perception.
He had been manipulated.
As he comprehended and attuned himself to "Fate," he understood completely.
He had always been manipulated. From childhood until now. Every event in his life, every choice he thought was his own, had been subtly guided, pulled by invisible strings he had never noticed before.
His most precious bondsāhis friendships, his struggles, even his love for Artemisāweren't just natural feelings, but meticulously positioned pieces on the grand chessboard of the Fates. His passion for Artemis, his deepest tether, what should have been genuine and pure, was also part of their game.
When his enlightenment ended, all that remained was silence as he processed everything he had learned in mere seconds.
His emotions burst forth like a dam exploding.
Frustration. Bitterness. Hatred.
Conflicting feelings consumed him like a furious storm, tearing at his soul from the inside out. Everything he had livedā¦ was it false? Every friendship, every bond he had forged, every emotion he had carried within him, was it nothing more than an illusion crafted to keep him under control?
The invisible hand of Fate had shaped his every step, every encounter, every battle. And worst of allā¦ his mother's death.
Ikki clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Luke. Kronos. The Fates.
It was all orchestrated.
His mother hadn't died by chance, nor by some cruel irony of fate. It was a calculated sacrifice. A cold, cruel move in a game he didn't even know he was playing. They killed the only person who truly loved him without ulterior motives. And why? To ensure he never turned against the Olympian Gods. To break him. To make him useful to them.
The Fates, or Moirai, had made him a prisoner without chains, a slave unaware of his servitude.
The realization weighed upon his shoulders like a mountain, but at the same timeā¦
Ikki gave a bitter, almost sardonic smile as he looked at the devastated horizon. His heart, once marked by resentment and doubt, now carried immense bitterness.
"Hahahahahaā¦" A laugh echoed throughout the region, coming from him. Everything he lived was a lie?
After a few moments of grappling with his emotions, on the verge of madness, he fell silent.
"Pawnā¦" he murmured to himself, almost a painful realization. Everything he had experienced, every choice he had made, hadn't just been reflections of his failures or inaction. No. He had been molded to be this way. The flaws he considered his own, his hesitations, his inability to move forward, everything had been carefully orchestrated by the Fates. He wasn't just a victim of his own human nature, but of a game he didn't even understand.
What he called choices, mistakes, were actually pieces moved on the board by invisible hands, hands that weren't the least bit interested in his well-being, but only in ensuring he followed the path they had already laid out for him.
He thought of the countless times he had hesitated, the opportunities he had missed, the words he hadn't spoken. Like a marionette, dancing to the rhythm of strings he didn't even know existed. His inaction, his lack of reaction, his impulse to always hold backā¦ it was all part of their plan. He had never been truly free, never truly himself. He was just a piece in a Machiavellian game being played in the shadows.
And the worst part was realizing he believed himself to be the author of his own actions, when in reality it was the game itself manipulating him. A puppet, with the illusion of being his own master.
"Fuck fate," he muttered, hatred burning in his voice with each word.
Artemis.
Suddenly, he thought of her, of the pain he felt when she rejected him, without fully understanding why. Now he knew. It wasn't for lack of love, but because the Fates had placed that love there, like a trap, a lure, drawing him closer to her without ever truly being able to have her.
They didn't want Artemis to lose herself in a relationship with him, didn't want her to stray from her purity, her essence. They needed to maintain balance, conventions, standards.
And him? He was trapped, tormented by the incessant pursuit of something that could never be realized. The love he felt for Artemis wasn't real, or rather, it was real insofar as it had been planted within him. The passion, the obsession, the paināit had all been a seed sown by the old witches, keeping him in line, guiding him without him knowing where he was going.
It was disgusting.
It was repulsive.
He had been used as a pawn in a game of manipulation and deceit. And the truth was now there, right in front of him, a truth he deeply hated.
The seed of love, planted without his consent, had grown into something he believed to be true, but which would never be more than a twisted plot, written to keep him captive.
He looked at the emptiness around him, at the ruins of everything he had destroyed.
A disgusting plan, a manipulation so perfect he could barely process it. The pain he felt, the loss, the frustrations, it all made sense now. And he wouldn't accept it anymore.
"I am my own fate now," he declared, his eyes blazing with fierce intensity.
It didn't matter who had plotted against him. It didn't matter who or what was trying to control him. He wouldn't follow whatever those old witches or anyone else desired. Fate, the one they wanted him to follow, whatever it may be, was now something he would sever with his own hands. He would take control, and nothing, not even divine forces, would prevent him from shaping his own path.
Ikki took a deep breath, feeling the tension of his rage subside as he slowly regained control over his emotions.
He was calmer now, but the clarity of his thoughts was no less disturbing. At least now he knew he was being manipulated; that was the first step.
And now he had a way to become even stronger.
The [Conceptual Void]āhis power to absorb and consume anything conceptually relevant to the world through his understanding to form his own Divinityānow made sense. The gods, those near-omnipotent beings, were nothing more than a colossal mass of energy, with dominion over abstract concepts and capable of dividing themselves into multiple aspects to control and govern the elements for which they were responsible.
But if the gods were the manifestation of these near-infinite energies, he could absorb them through his [Conceptual Void] and complete it faster.
This changed everything.
The smile on his face widened, and his gaze became resolute. Nothing else mattered.
If fate wanted him to be merely a follower of Artemis, just another pawn in their game, then he would change that. He would no longer be a puppet in the hands of the Fates or any other entity that wanted to manipulate his path. His life wouldn't be defined by an impossible love or a burden he hadn't chosen to carry.
The thought of his mother, of how she had been taken from his life, washed over him with renewed force. It wasn't just a pain in his heart; it was a flame ignited within him. He could no longer accept that her death was a simple act of fate. He would revive his mother, no matter the cost. If fate wanted to make him a passive spectator in his own life, he would rebel against it, defying the forces that had led him here.
"If fate wants me to be unhappy, a mere spectator and pursuer of something I can never have, thenā¦" He took a deep breath, his voice lower, but filled with a newfound confidence: "I will change that. I will revive my mother. I will make my future something I choose myself, not what they want me to beā¦"
He would no longer be a piece in their game.
"A true man can feel depressed for a short period, but he definitely won't feel depressed for his entire lifeā¦"
His thought was a reflection of everything he had endured, of the internal and external struggles, the losses and the victories.
He didn't want to be trapped in the past anymore, no longer a hostage to the shadows that haunted him. The suffering, the losses, none of it dominated him anymore. Now, he saw the world with clarity, as if the pain were merely fuel for his inner fire.
The wind passed through him, but he didn't feel it. It was as if he were just another leaf in the wind, a symbol of what he had left behind. The past no longer held power over him. Now, what moved him was something much stronger, something not even fate itself could stop.
His resolve was even firmer. He didn't just want to become stronger, he knew he would become a God. Not for glory, but for the purpose that consumed himāreviving his mother. The pain of loss, the disappointment of not being able to protect her, all of it now propelled him with relentless clarity. He knew this goal was possible, and he would do anything, any sacrifice, to achieve it.
He felt the energy in his body, every muscle and every cell responding to the desire to achieve what seemed unattainable. He was ready to defy the heavens themselves and continue his journey without looking back. His strength wasn't just physical anymore; it was the strength of a man who had freed himself from the shackles of the past and now walked with a single purpose in mind: to achieve the impossible.
And from that moment on, he knew that nothing could stop him.