"Fate does not grant favors—it collects debts."
"To defy fate is to carve a path through the unknown. But to wield fate is to bear its weight."
"Threads of destiny do not break; they are severed by choice."
"Power granted by fate is never truly given—it is loaned, with interest yet unseen."
Ryuxian's breath was slow, controlled—but his heart pounded like a war drum.
The Black Thread of Fate had changed.
He turned his gaze downward, catching his reflection in the cracked stone beneath him.
His eyes.
No longer the amber glow of his past self. No longer the golden hue that marked him as the serpent of legend.
Now—
They shimmered like liquid amethyst. Deep, rich, a shade that flickered between violet and something unnamable, something that caught the light and held it captive.
A color that wasn't just his.
It was fate's mark.
> [Your soul has been acknowledged.]
[The Black Thread of Fate has granted you a reward.]
[Refining Your Fruit Ability…]
A sharp pulse coursed through his veins. It wasn't pain—it was clarity. His body suddenly felt lighter, stronger, sharper.
His fruit ability—the very foundation of his strength—was changing.
The air around him shifted.
> [Devourer's Fruit—Refinement Process Initiated.]
Ryuxian stilled, and coughed the pain and agony return
Refining?
His ability had always been powerful—consuming energy, evolving beyond natural limits—but now it was refining?
The world around him blurred for a moment. His body coiled instinctively, his senses sharpening. He felt everything. The vibrations in the air, the way the ruins breathed beneath him, the way his very existence felt like it was unraveling only to be reforged.
A deep hunger stirred inside him—but it wasn't wild, wasn't uncontrollable. It was purposeful.
And then—
A second notification burned in his mind.
> [New Evolution Pathway Unlocked.]
[Humanoid Transformation Now Available.]
Ryuxian's pupils slit, his body going still. He's not sure whether he want or not, but he doesn't want to be crawl around like a serpent anymore.
A humanoid form.
Not just a mimicry of humans. Not just an illusion. A true form, he needed that, it feels worth after a continuous struggle
A reward.
A gift.
A test.
He flexed his power, feeling the shift. It wasn't just about becoming human-shaped—it was something more. His very essence stretched, the boundaries of his existence rewriting themselves.
Then—
A voice.
Soft. Familiar. Amused.
> "You adapt faster than I expected, little serpent."
The ruins trembled.
A golden thread wove itself into existence before him, shimmering in the air, pulsing with power.
And from it—she appeared.
The God of Fate.
Tall, draped in celestial silks that shimmered like constellations in green. Her hair moved as if caught in the gentle pull of time itself, threads of silver and black intertwining endlessly. But her eyes—
Her eyes were the same color as his.
Deep. Unreadable. Amethyst.
"…You." !!
The word left his lips before he could stop it.
She smiled. Knowingly
Nodded, she seems soft and sweet but she's not!
"I told you once before, didn't I?" she said, stepping closer. "Fate does not grant favors without a cost."
Ryuxian tensed. His instincts screamed at him, but not from fear.
From understanding.
She had been watching. All along.
"To evolve is to abandon the self that once was."
"A serpent that sheds its skin is still a serpent—but what of one that changes its very essence?"
"The eyes of a man reveal his soul, but the eyes of fate reveal his purpose."
"Transformation is not a gift. It is a test of who you will become.
> "…What do you want?" he asked, voice low.
The God of Fate's gaze held his. Then—
She reached out.
And placed a hand gently against his forehead.
A pulse of something ancient surged through him.
> "To see if you are worthy," she murmured.
Ryuxian's breath hit
A pulse of something ancient surged through Ryuxian's core.
The God of Fate's hand rested lightly against his forehead, but the weight behind it was immense. It wasn't just power—it was judgment. A force that measured him, tested him, and sought something within him.
His breath hitched.
This wasn't like before. The Black Thread of Fate had bound itself to him, but this—this was different. This was her will.
And then—
[Analyzing Candidate's Soul…]
[Fateweaving Instinct—Fully Awakened.]
[Potential—Acknowledged.]
The celestial markings on her skin flickered like dying stars, and her gaze—unwavering, expectant—held a challenge.
"You are standing at the threshold, little serpent," she murmured. "Your fate is no longer yours alone."
Ryuxian's body tensed. He could feel the choice pressing into his soul.
Something inside him was shifting.
Something irreversible.
[The God of Fate has marked you as her Successor Candidate.]
His breath caught.
> "…Successor?"
She nodded, stepping back, her presence like the pull of the cosmos itself.
"You have defied fate. Reshaped it. Challenged it. And now…" She lifted her hand, a single thread of black and gold weaving itself into his aura. "You have the right to claim a place beyond it."
His mind raced.
This wasn't just a reward. This was a path. A future that had never been meant for him.
But he had never followed the paths laid out for him, had he?
His newly refined power hummed beneath his scales. His ability to shift into a humanoid form, his enhanced fruit ability, the new instincts surging in his mind—
All of it had been leading to this moment.
> "And if I refuse?" he asked, voice steady but sharp.
The God of Fate smiled—not unkindly, but knowingly.
"Then fate will take back what it has given."
The air tensed.
[WARNING: Rejecting the Successor Mark will result in…]
[Loss of Fateweaving Instinct.]
[Loss of Humanoid Transformation.]
[The Black Thread of Fate will be severed.]
His nervousness visible from his movements of eyes.
Lose everything?
The power he had fought for. The instincts he had honed. The very essence of his evolution.
He narrowed his amethyst eyes.
"You don't believe in free choices, do you?"
The God of Fate laughed softly. "Oh, but you have a choice." Her gaze glowed like stars collapsing into themselves. "You can choose to fall."
Silence.
The ruins trembled.
And Ryuxian smiled.
"…Nah !
He stepped forward.
The Black Thread pulsed. His body thrummed with something new. His fate had already been rewritten once—what was one more time?
[Successor Candidate Status—Accepted.]
[Fate's Will Shall Guide Your Growth.]
A new mark seared itself into his soul. Not a chain. Not a curse.
A crown.
The God of Fate watched him. Not as a master looking down upon a servant—but as a predecessor gazing upon the one who might inherit her throne.
"Let us see, then," she whispered, her voice like a thread woven through time itself.
"If you can bear the weight of fate."
"Freedom is not in rejecting fate, but in choosing how to wield it, it's all about control"
"To refuse power is to remain as you are. To accept it is to become something unknown."
"Every throne is built upon sacrifice—whether it is your own, or someone else's."
"Fate does not force its hand. It merely whispers, waits, and watches who dares to answer."