Fate is not a chain, but a whisper—binding only those who choose to listen."
"To resist fate is not to deny it, but to demand a voice in its telling."
"What is destiny but a script left unfinished? And what are we but the ones holding the pen?"
"Power is not in what is given, but in what is refused."
The ruins trembled.
Ryuxian coiled instinctively, his glowing amber eyes locked onto the celestial being before him. The God of Fate loomed above, its body shifting between divine stardust and something far more unsettling—something that made his instincts scream.
> "You are a mistake, little serpent. An anomaly that was never meant to exist."
The words echoed, hollow and absolute.
Ryuxian snorted. "Gee, thanks. Real confidence booster."
The celestial being tilted its head. "And yet… your existence is fascinating."
A pulse of energy surged through the air. The ruins changed. Stone pillars twisted, rewriting themselves, ancient carvings shifting into something new. Ryuxian barely had time to react before the world around him snapped—
—and suddenly, he wasn't in the ruins anymore.
The Forgotten Memory
A scorching sun burned above.
Heat waves danced over golden sands, stretching endlessly in every direction. The air was thick, suffocating, heavy with the scent of something old.
Ryuxian blinked. He was standing—not slithering, but standing. His hands clenched into fists. Human hands.
His breath caught.
No.
No, no, no.
His gaze darted down. Tanned skin. Scars he didn't remember earning. A loose white tunic, torn at the edges. A silver ring on his left hand.
> This isn't real.
He spun around. The desert was silent—too silent. Then, in the distance, he saw something. A body.
His stomach twisted.
He knew that body.
He didn't want to, but he knew.
Each step felt heavier as he approached. Sand clung to his feet, the air thick with unspoken dread. The closer he got, the more the details solidified.
Blood. Dark, soaking into the golden sands. A wound carved into their chest, deep and merciless. Their face was turned away.
> Don't look.
You don't need to look.
You already know who it is.
"Power is not in what is given, but in what is refused."
"To exist outside of fate is to walk a path unlit—where every step is both freedom and abyss."
"A soul unclaimed is a soul unbroken."
His body disobeyed.
His fingers trembled as he reached out—just enough to turn the face toward him.
His reflection stared back.
It was him.
A choked breath escaped his throat. He stumbled back, his vision swimming. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a trick.
This was a memory.
> "You died, Ryuxian. You died long before you ever became a serpent."
The God of Fate's voice wove through the air like silk, emotionless yet deafening.
> "And you don't even remember why."
The Black Path Opens
The desert shattered.
The golden sands fractured into obsidian shards, swirling like ink into the void. The memory crumbled, rewriting itself into fate's tapestry.
And Ryuxian?
He fell.
Plunging into darkness, weightless, breathless—until his body coiled once more. His serpent form returned, but something had changed.
"To challenge fate is to stand before the storm and dare it to change direction."
"The past is written, the present is fleeting, but the future—ah, the future is a beast waiting to be tamed."
His heart pounded. His mind burned. His past wasn't just some distant, ignored thing anymore. It was real. It was clawing at him, demanding to be acknowledged.
The celestial being's voice followed him into the abyss.
> "You were given a second chance, serpent. But fate does not grant favors without a cost."
Threads of black fate wrapped around him. Twisting, binding, sinking into his scales. His very soul felt like it was unraveling—only to be woven into something new.
> "Now, tell me, Ryuxian…"
The air cracked. The abyss breathed.
> "Will you claim your fate? Or will fate claim you?"
[The Black Thread of Fate has been embedded into your soul.]
The abyss breathed.
Ryuxian's scales burned where the Black Thread of Fate coiled around him, seeping into his very essence. It wasn't just power—it was something far worse. It was a claim.
A contract he never signed.
> "Claim my fate? Or let it claim me?"
The celestial being's voice echoed in his mind, distant yet inescapable. The weight of its presence pressed against his very soul.
No.
A sharp hiss tore from his throat. His body writhed, thrashing against the invisible force tightening around him.
Even though he knows himself, it's not a life he want, he doesn't like to complaint deep down he always had a feeling of not knowing himself or what he wants, He found himself in same situation where he lost his damn life for someone even though he did that, it doesn't seem to feel good but he hated that feeling of being selfish or regretting of he lost his life for someone. He doesn't seem to like the idea of being a hero. Even after a death somehow the anger in him pursue him. He clenched his fingers..he told
"I don't belong to fate." His voice was low, defiant. "I don't belong to you."
The celestial form tilted its head, stardust shifting like a nebula in motion.
> "Oh? And yet, here you are—bound to it, regardless of what you desire."
The threads pulsed, sending a sharp jolt through him. A vision flickered in his mind.
A battlefield. Blood and sand. A sword driven into his chest.
His own hand gripping the blade.
He again felt the pain of stab that he loose himself for some one again, that feeling in his chest make him tremble.
> "Why do you resist, Ryuxian?" Do you think being a Hero is easy !?
Even though it's an error to born as a serpent don't you feel it's suits you better! ?
The vision shattered, and the abyss around him twisted. He gasped, his body coiling instinctively, but the celestial being merely watched.
Waiting.
The weight of its question pressed down on him.
And, for a moment—just a moment—he hesitated.
He tried again and again to make himself from detached from the question in his head, he told himself. Since the question and answer pains me then I will not hear or think about the question either an answer.
> Why?
Because this wasn't just power. This wasn't just another skill or evolution.
This was fate itself taking hold of him but he doesn't seem to care.
He took a slow, steady breath.
Then—
A grin spread across his face.
"You want me to accept this? To just bow to fate?" His amber eyes gleamed, bright and untamed. "Nah."
You think I'm a child!?
He bared his fangs. "If fate wants to claim me…" His coils flexed, tension building like a storm inside him.
"…then it better be ready to fight me for it."
The Black Thread of Fate surged.
For a brief second, the celestial being's glow dimmed. The air cracked, something shifting—something unnatural.
Then—
It laughed.
A soft, cosmic sound, both amused and intrigued.
> "Then fight, little serpent."
The abyss shattered.
Back in the Ruins
Ryuxian hit the ground with a sharp hiss, his scales scraping against the stone floor of the ruins. His body tensed, muscles coiling instinctively. He was back.
But something was different.
The Black Thread of Fate still coiled around him—no longer binding, but lingering. Watching.
Testing.
His tongue flicked out. The ruins smelled the same, but the air had shifted. The weight of that celestial presence was gone, yet its influence remained.
> [The Black Thread of Fate has integrated into your soul.]
[New Ability Unlocked: Fateweaving Instinct]
Ryuxian narrowed his eyes. Fateweaving?
He focused, and suddenly—
The world shifted.
Shadows of possibilities flickered before him. The stones beneath him crumbled in one vision, stayed intact in another. A breeze blew past—one future where it was a harmless gust, another where it carried a scent of something deadly approaching.
It wasn't just seeing the future.
It was influencing it.
His grin widened.
"Oh… this is gonna be very fun."
Then—
A sound.
Faint. Distant. A presence.
Something—or someone—was watching.
Ryuxian flicked his tongue again. The scent was unfamiliar. Ancient. And unlike anything he had sensed before.
He turned slowly, his body coiling with anticipation.
And there, standing at the edge of the ruins—was someone waiting for him.
"If the gods wish to dictate my path, then let them descend and walk it first."
"Some chains are not forged of iron, but of belief. Break the belief, and the chain falls away.