"To perceive fate is to stand at the edge of the abyss, knowing that even a whisper might shift the winds."
"Threads of destiny are neither chains nor guides—they are warnings, silent echoes of what has yet to come."
"The presence of an unseen observer is never without reason. Some watch to protect. Others… to decide when to strike."
The morning mist was fading, but Ryuxian's mind was clouded with thoughts. His conversation with the Serpent Code lingered, replaying in his head like a whisper from another life.
"You may shape fate, but you cannot rewrite destiny."
"What you grant, you must also take."
Ryuxian exhaled sharply and let it out bluntly
If I try to change fate, something will be taken in return.
And yet, the red thread behind Grandpa still flickered in his vision—thin, weak, and close to vanishing.
Would he really just watch it fade?
Would he do nothing?
His fist clenched.
No. I have to do something.
But what? nope sometimes not intervening in thigs is good move, of course i cant let him live forever, just the flow of time changed.
Ryuxian wandered through the forest, his bare feet making no sound against the damp earth. He was thinking, searching for an answer—when suddenly, he sensed something.
A presence.
Someone was watching him.
His instincts sharpened immediately.
Without turning his head, he let his Fate Weaver sight activate, allowing the unseen threads to appear before him.
There.
A faint silver thread in the distance—attached to something hidden in the trees.
A person? No… this thread is too cold. It's not alive.
Ryuxian's muscles tensed. He wasn't alone.
If I pretend I don't notice, maybe I can lure them out.
Keeping his expression neutral, he walked further, pretending to be lost in thought.
Then—snap.
A single leaf rustled in the wrong direction, a sound too deliberate to be natural.
Got you.
Without warning, Ryuxian spun on his heel and flung a small stone toward the trees.
The moment the stone hit something solid—the air distorted, a faint ripple like heat haze.
A cloaked figure materialized, barely dodging the attack. Their cloak was a deep, matte black, and even in the brief glimpse, Ryuxian noticed the way the fabric seemed to absorb the surrounding light.
Ryuxian's eyes narrowed.
Who…?
The figure didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stood there, watching, their form utterly still.
This isn't normal. They didn't expect me to sense them.
Which means… they're testing me.
His golden eyes glowed faintly as he took a step forward.
"Are you just going to stand there?" he called out, voice steady. "Or do you actually want something?"
The figure tilted their head, a slow, almost mocking gesture, as if amused by his attempt at intimidation.
Then—they moved.
In the blink of an eye, they vanished from sight, a silent, fluid motion faster than Ryuxian could track.
He spun around instinctively—but they were gone.
The only thing left behind…
A single black thread, fading into nothing, leaving a chilling sensation in the air.
Fate's Warning
Ryuxian stood frozen, staring at the space where the figure had been.
A black thread.
Not silver. Not red.
Black.
And that meant danger.
A thread of death.
A fate already sealed.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
Whoever that was, they weren't just watching him.
They were a part of something much bigger.
Something unseen.
The black thread vanished, leaving Ryuxian standing alone in the quiet forest. His heart was still racing, but he forced himself to breathe evenly.
That wasn't an ordinary person.
The way they moved, the way their thread disappeared—it was unlike anything he had seen before. If they were dangerous, why hadn't they attacked? If they were just an observer, what were they waiting for?
The Serpent Code's words echoed in his mind.
"You may shape fate, but you cannot rewrite destiny."
Was this fate warning him? Or was it daring him to act?
He shook his head. No time to dwell on this. Right now, he had a destination—the next village.
Ryuxian adjusted the small bag slung over his shoulder, feeling the weight of the obsidian stones inside. The ones he had left for Zain were only a portion—he had taken the rest with him.
They might be useful.
The path to the next village wasn't far, but he had to move carefully. He wasn't familiar with this land, and after what just happened, he couldn't afford to be careless.
As he walked, the morning sun climbed higher, warming the damp forest floor. The scent of wildflowers and fresh earth filled the air, blending with the distant sound of flowing water.
A river nearby. Good.
He hadn't eaten since last night, and water would help keep his hunger at bay. With silent steps, he followed the sound, soon reaching the riverbank.
A Strange Encounter
Ryuxian knelt beside the clear water, cupping some in his hands and taking a slow sip. The coolness spread through his body, refreshing him.
Then—he heard a voice.
"You don't look like a villager."
Ryuxian's muscles tensed. He turned his head slightly, eyes scanning the trees.
A man stood a few meters away, dressed in simple yet worn traveler's clothes. He carried a wooden staff, its end worn smooth from long use. His posture was relaxed, but his gaze was sharp and calculating, as if weighing Ryuxian's every move.
Another observer?
Ryuxian stayed calm.
"I'm just passing through."
The man studied him for a moment, his eyes lingering on Ryuxian's unusual eyes, then stepped closer.
"The next village isn't kind to strangers."
Ryuxian raised an eyebrow.
"That so?"
The man nodded, his grip on the staff tightening slightly. A flicker of unease crossed his face, but he quickly masked it. "They believe in omens. Bad ones. And you…" He gestured subtly, a slight tilt of his head. "You don't belong here."
Ryuxian's purple eyes flickered.
"Is that your way of saying I should turn back?"
The man was silent for a moment, his gaze shifting to the forest behind Ryuxian, as if checking for something unseen. Then, with a faint smirk, he stepped aside. "Not my problem what happens to you."
A sealed fate is not an unchangeable one. But to alter it, something must always be lost."
"A village drained of color is a place where even fate hesitates, where life clings to existence but does not truly live."
Ryuxian stared at him for a beat longer before standing up, wiping his hands on his cloak.
"Then I'll take my chances."
Without another word, he walked past the man, his gaze set on the path ahead, wondering what the man was truly hiding.
The Village Gates
By midday, he reached the outskirts of the village.
It wasn't large—just a collection of wooden houses, smoke rising from chimneys, and fields stretching beyond the horizon. But something felt… off.
Even from a distance, he could sense it.
there are no birds or insects. Just dead silence.
The threads.
Unlike the lively, flickering red threads of a normal village, these were dim. Some frayed, like worn fabric. Some barely visible at all, flickering weakly. The villagers moved with a slow, almost listless air, their faces pale and drawn.
Something is wrong here.
Ryuxian narrowed his eyes.
And I need to find out what.
"When the world moves in silence, it is not peace—it is the breath before the storm."
He took a deep breath, stepping forward.
Whatever fate awaited him here…
Ryuxian senses something moving in the village shadows—or sees another glimpse of the black thread flickering in the wind,
but it was far more darker then the previous one he encountered, its not even a thread , its a black smoke that he cant touch everwhere around the ground.
So much for being a majestic serpent "
"Am I even human anymore "
When the world moves in silence, it is not peace—it is the breath before the storm."
"One does not simply walk into the unknown. The unknown is already watching, already waiting."
"Not all danger announces itself with a blade. Some arrive as whispers, as vanishing threads in the wind."