Day 724[1] in Jerrica's Labyrinth
The end of my trial didn't look like the explosive finale my brothers probably got. Nah, I wasn't gifted some grand exit, no divine cutscene, no epic return-to-reality prize screen. I was stuck on a dark violet planet that shimmered like a bruise across the skin of the hellish cosmos. It was quiet. Too quiet. Like the calm before a migraine. But something about the stillness told me my time in the Labyrinth wasn't over. Not even close.
Above me, the single remaining moon cast its gentle light over the surface, turning the broken valleys and jagged mountains into soft silhouettes. The glow felt intentional—like a stage spotlight. And I was the only actor.
That's when I searched for it.
That voice.
"No matter the Stellar Kingdom Cycle," she said, her words wrapped in velvet and wine, "you still manage to be quite destructive during your time active."
I turned slowly. Something about that voice—it pulled at something under my skin. Like I had heard it in a dream. It coiled around my name in ways only the past could. And standing in the center of the moonlight was "her".
The sight of her slapped the air out of my lungs.
She was art. Living, lewd, divine art. Her skin was milky white porcelain, like starlight given flesh, flawless and glowing with an ethereal sheen. Runes and sigils of living mana pulsed beneath her skin, in smooth, serpentine tattoos that framed her colossal breasts like cosmic jewelry. They bounced softly with every breath behind thin white suspenders that struggled not to be irrelevant. Her skirt—if you could call it that—was nearly transparent, clinging to her like fog holds to morning. The gold and blue trim danced with the light like royal embroidery in motion.
Her body was a war crime. Sculpted, not bulky, but defined like lust had rules—and she was the prototype. My eyes traveled against my will, every inch of her carved with temptation and glory.
But then I reached her face... and it clicked.
Freckles like distant galaxies dusted across her cheeks and nose. Her full, ruby lips curved in subtle amusement, like she was always a few steps ahead in whatever game you didn't know you were playing. Her long, strawberry-colored hair poured over her shoulders and down her back, ending just at her bare ass, dancing behind her like smoke made solid.
Her eyes, though...
Bright pink irises with cobalt blue sclera, gleaming like nebulae, focused on me like I was the last riddle in the universe. Those eyes were dangerous. They were sharp, almond-shaped, and if you looked too long, you'd forget how to blink. I'd seen that look before—just not on her.
They reminded me of the Creator's.
I narrowed my gaze, instantly on edge. "Here comes a new challenger."
She tilted her head, amused. "Still resorting to violence and force first? You don't change much with these variations."
"Variations?"
Her words danced like poetry laced with poison. She stood in a relaxed posture—weight shifted to one leg, one hand resting on her hip. Her long crimson nails drew attention right where she wanted it—her pelvis, exposed by the elegant slits in her skirt. Her energy wasn't threatening... but something about it made every nerve in my body whisper danger.
"Do we know each other?" I asked, cocking my head. "I try to remember all the cute bitches in both of my lives."
She smirked. "This would be our first time since your rebirth. I am known as Destini. The Archon of Fate."
The moment her name dropped into the air, something inside me snapped.
Like a goddamn fail-safe went off in my soul.
White-hot static of hatred surged through my veins like lightning riding adrenaline. My chest roared, and [Midnight Star: Belial] howled from the depths of my throat. The ground cracked beneath me as my aura exploded outward in a tsunami of dark, fatal energy. Belial's origins roared with images I couldn't make out—but the sound of them felt like betrayal wrapped in blood.
Violet and indigo light speared into the sky as my mana surged, an infinite pillar of cosmic wrath that tore through the atmosphere and echoed into Infernia's void. Wind, light, space—everything bent around the storm of my release.
But her?
She didn't move. Not a twitch.
Red hair tossed gently in the maelstrom, the golden-and-white crown layered in royal blue trim on her head, glowed with living tendrils that wrapped lazily around her shoulders. She stood firm, her leer never leaving me. She wasn't impressed. Just… watching.
"Yo, what's going on?!" I screamed inside. "Why can't I take control from Belial?!"
"Your Soul Core has activated a safety protocol built into [Midnight Star: Belial]," [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] responded from within. "I'm currently attempting to override it, but Belial has the same clearance level I do."
"Safety protocol? For what? Strange women with Olympic-level titties?!"
"That being before you is an Outer God."
"Yes." Destini's voice melted into the chaos like silk. "This is the reaction I was expecting from you."
Mana began to leak from my eyes, trails of crimson smoke. Arcs of vermilion and indigo energy clung to my limbs like chains of light. Lightning crackled across my aura. [Midnight Star: Belial] was beyond angry at this bitch—he was vengeful and serious. And I didn't know why. But he remembered something.
Destini finally moved. She cracked a half-smile, lifting her hand and beckoning me forward with a delicate "come on" gesture. That was enough.
Belial exploded into motion, activating [Dominus Desidiae] to stop time entirely. Everything froze. No air. No gravity. Just void. He snapped into [Ultimate Speed], boosting our movement until we were across the battlefield in less than an attosecond within an unblinking moment.
I threw a haymaker—an anti-star-level left hook meant to erase her. The air behind the punch screamed, scarring the ground in a delayed reaction.
But she caught my wrist.
Gently.
Her fingers closed around my arm with supernatural grace, her eyes never blinking. Then, like it was the easiest thing in the universe, she used my own momentum to throw me over her shoulder. I crashed into the landscape, cratering a mountain into dust.
Time resumed as I hit the ground, arms spread out like a chalk outline within a sunken crater.
That's when I noticed the weight.
Destini had appeared on top of me. Each of her legs pinned my arms down effortlessly. She straddled me—knees beside my shoulders, skirt draping over my head like curtains at a burlesque show. I was now under her skirt.
And this glorious woman did not believe in panties.
The scent of jasmine and unknown fruits filled my lungs. Not overpowering—intoxicating. My body twitched. My mind screamed. Even [Midnight Star: Belial] hissed in rage as she leaned forward, her glistening labia practically touching my nose.
"Who did her wax?" I thought absently. "To think I'd see divine coochie."
[Midnight Star: Belial] raged. He wasn't done. Losing control against my command, he gathered the volatile cocktail of Devil Mana and Divinity Mana, compressed into a single orb within his mouth. His final strike. A dirty play.
He spat the orb at her exposed vulva.
But she seemed ready for it.
In an instant motion, she stood up, bent down, opened her mouth… and caught it.
Her eyes locked onto mine as she swallowed it.
No gag. No recoil. Just… pleasure. Like I had just gifted her an orgasmic delicacy, and she was savoring it with gratitude.
[Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] chimed in, calm as a monk:
"Vessel Skill released. Control is back in your hands, master."
Destini licked her lips slowly, as if tasting me through the remnants of the mana. "Mmm. You taste different… yet the same. This must be Omnia's influence."
I blinked, brain struggling to reboot. "So, even you know the Twilight Goddess?"
She giggled, fingers dragging down my chest. "Well, I should. She's my oldest daughter."
I stiffened. "…Say what now?"
Destini leaned forward, lips nearly touching mine. "I guess since you've got him under control now… we can continue with our conversation."
Almost like she was teasing me on purpose, Destini lingered on my arms, her body sprawled across mine with the casual elegance of someone fully aware of their effect. The angle of her hips, the softness of her curves, and the teasing hint of her skirt hiking up again had me caught between awe and alarm. She shifted with slow, deliberate movements, and for a moment, I swore she was flashing me on purpose—again. When she finally stepped off me, I felt a weight lift that I hadn't noticed was there. And that was saying something. I could bench press mountains by now—hell, I could probably curl a few dying stars if I had the right gloves—but Destini? She felt like a few goddamn superclusters. No… like a whole universe folded neatly into a woman's silhouette, wrapped in snow white skin and dangerous curves that defied the laws of my blood pressure.
There was no denying it. She was in another league. Not just in how she looked or moved, but in raw, combat-ready energy. The mana in her body wasn't loud, but it shimmered behind her eyes like a lullaby that could end worlds. Outer Gods were still a "not yet" on my punch list. But that wasn't the part that rattled me. It was how [Midnight Star: Belial] reacted—how my nigga crashed out the moment she touched me. That alone was gonna stay with me.
"So you're an Outer God," I said, keeping my tone as flat as I could. "Why you actin' so damn comfortable with me?"
Destini gave a soft laugh that curled like warm smoke around my senses. "Old habits," she replied. "We once had history."
"We?" I echoed, squinting at her. "Like you and me?"
"Well, a piece of you," she said, tapping her chin. "The essence of the Primordial Void."
"Belial," I thought immediately.
Had to be. Nobody else in my spiritual Rolodex screamed "Void Essence" and dramatic ass history like he did.
"To think that Omnia succeeded in melding together fragments of an Archon and her Noetic Operational Virtual Architect with the former soul of an ancient human…" Destini's voice trailed off, and her pink eyes began to glow—not with menace, but with curiosity. "Yet something different happened this time. I see..."
Her mana moved as she spoke. I could feel it—a soft swirl of magitons brushing against my soul like wind on bare skin. Unique energy. It was intimate, sensual even, the kind of contact that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. It felt like someone was touching the inside of me with velvet gloves made of starlight.
"I see. So the former human spirit provided the soil to grow his core properly," she mused. "Meaning she found a balance for the power output by creating a triune. Impressive."
I rolled my eyes. "Alright, bitch. I don't like you sitting here readin' me without the damn author notes. Start from the beginning. What's your connection to [Midnight Star: Belial]? When was I the Archon of Night? Why does your voice sound familiar? And why the hell does your fine ass make my skin itch?"
That smile of hers twitched. Just a little. Like she was trying hard not to grin but failing at it.
"Because," she said slowly, "you can perceive me now. I believe I may have appeared to you as a ball of white light, the last time we spoke."
I paused. Memory flickered like old film on a broken projector. I had seen a white light. Right after Eden. Omnia had just told me good luck before I was ushered through the gauntlet of rebirth. Some weird-ass questions from some mysterious white light during my cosmic delivery into this lifetime. I never thought it was another deity. But now…
"I must say," Destini continued, her voice going soft like a whisper down my spine. "I didn't think you'd truly walk this path in life. All of your previous versions—if we can call them that—chose power through isolation. Alone."
I sucked my teeth. "Aht, aht. I said start from the beginning, bitch."
Her eyes gleamed. "Very well."
I braced myself. When ancient women start talking like bedtime storytellers, you know some cosmic trauma 'bout to get unpacked. She began weaving a tale older than light and heavier than time. Before the Prime Realms, before Gaia, before even thought had a name—there was the Void. A chaotic abyss of swirling nothing. Pure entropy. But from that chaos came a flicker of light. Random. Accidental. A concept called Order. It spread slowly at first, like cracks in an egg, balancing itself against the primal darkness. In that tension between chaos and order, the Void birthed a being.
The first Archon. The Abraxas.
Xero.
The Archon of Night.
He was born of Void, crafted not by hands but by intention, and filled with potential so vast that even Order blinked in confusion. The Aether tried to counterbalance him by creating its own Archon—the Archon of Day—but that boy couldn't fuck with Xero.
So Order got desperate. It made the Archons of Fate, Free Will, and Time, hoping to create a divine team strong enough to checkmate Night's unstoppable growth. Together, they wove a system—a whole damn existence—with rules and balance and barriers. A set of Prime Realms built like a prison made to contain a single being.
But Xero?
He was built different.
He raged against it. Fought the very fabric of reality, tore through universes like wet paper. And in one final, chaotic tantrum of divine fury, he destroyed everything—including himself. That tantrum reset the timeline. Forced reality to try again.
Over and over.
Until the end of the twelfth loop.
That's when she had an idea.
Knowing the Archon of Night was a slave to passion and desire, Destini flipped the script. She seduced him. Gave herself to him completely. Not just in spirit, but in flesh. Their sexual union wasn't days or years. It was something so long, it slipped outta time's dictionary.
"What you mean you fucked him for a long time to weaken him?" I asked. "How long is a long time?"
She smiled. "Let's see… That would be a #@$#%."
"A what?"
[Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] chimed in from inside me, his voice clear and bored. "That amount of years would be considered Rayo's Number in humanoid expressions."
"Rayo's Number?" I blinked. "Ain't that the one so big you gotta invent math just to write the first digit?"
I blinked again. "That's a long time to bust a nut."
Destini laughed. "Quite a good time, from what I remember."
After she had drained him to his lowest essence, she stabbed him. A blade called Kiss of Twilight—a greatsword forged from her will and spite. The attack managed to seal Xero back into the void from which he came. Then, in a move part tactical, part poetic, she hid the weapon within her first daughter, Omnia. That daughter would later create the first souls—the templates for mortal life.
But Destini, as always, couldn't control everything.
What she hadn't accounted for was Omnia, who fell in love with Xero for reasons no one quite understood. Maybe it was the fragments of his spirit still echoing through the void connected to her. Maybe it was the way his essence sang to her soul. Maybe it was just bad luck. But Omnia—the same one used to stab him—looked into the void and saw beauty. Saw him. And it overrode any other desire within her.
"Let me get this straight," I said, rubbing my temples. "Your daughter fell in love with your ex-boyfriend after you used her to kill him once he was drained from years of endless sex. Am I hittin' all the high notes?"
Destini gave a slow nod. "Yes. That all sounds correct."
I sighed. "Damn horny people with power. Okay. Keep going with the story."
The air was heavy with ozone and promise, the kind that lingered after thunder cracked but before the rain dared to fall. Destini stood across from me, arms folded, her eyes glowing that sickly opal.
"Omnia used the remains of Xero's essence to create the concept of Vessel Skills in the Prime Realm System," she began, like she was reading off a textbook carved into the bones of angels. "It allowed the divine essences of an Aeon Spirit to co-exist within a being, giving them access to that deity's abilities."
I raised an eyebrow. "So what, like a soul Airbnb for divine spirits?"
She didn't laugh. Not even a smirk. She was dead serious, chin high and voice smooth. "A soul has to be strong enough to house the skill, as it draws on immense magickal energy just to stabilize the Soul Core during use. That's why most people never have more than one. But you—" Her eyes narrowed. "You're one of the few anomalies."
I nodded slowly, already knowing where that was going. "And now… so is Luda."
Destini's lips curled. "Yet, it was the Soul Core that would become a staple in life within the Prime Realms and beyond. You see, Soul Cores are a genius creation that even Omnia didn't account for."
The air felt warmer—no, denser—with magick as she spoke. Her aura pulsed like a second heartbeat, radiating deep violet and gold, humming low in my ears like thunder under flesh.
"While it's true it's used as a magick battery for the spirit," she continued, "it also is a recorder of experience. The Soul Core remembers every breath, cut, touch, and smell. Every image and thought that was ever executed is tracked and logged by it."
That caught my attention. "So you get a backlog of the life it lived. How does that benefit Trappers?"
"Ah… the Principalities, you mean." She gave me a sly look, pleased I was keeping up. "Aeons and Angels have found that once a Soul Core reaches a state of nivarna—true enlightenment—it unlocks its full potential. This turns the Soul Core into a significant source of magick and spiritual energy that, once consumed, forces the consumer into evolutions they would likely never see otherwise."
I scoffed, folding my arms. "Yeah, they use mortal souls like protein bars. I heard from the Trapper."
"Yet," she raised a finger, "none of those souls compare to a Sonata Soul Core."
I tensed. My core—Sonata Zero: Moonlight—stirred with an eerie vibration at its mention, sending a cool shock down my spine.
"These souls are so powerful," she said, walking closer, "that when consumed, they can transcend even the Choir of the Heavens and elevate an angel into an Aeon. An Inner God."
"Alright. Then answer another question for me," I said, tone sharpening. "What was the purpose of these trials?"
Destini paused, her gaze distant. She pulled in a breath like she was filtering which truths she was allowed to give me.
"To judge the capability of the Soul Core," she said finally. "For when the Lower Realms' abilities become too high to contain, the trials will turn the clock down the path of the Rapture. And the Rapture will unleash a free-for-all in the Prime Realms. Each realm waging war for dominance."
"The Paradiso Realm knows this," she added. "That's why their Third Sphere Angels monitor the Lower Realms. Usually with the farming of powerful Soul Cores."
I clenched my jaw. "Just like that dumb ass cow said."
She nodded. "Aeons seeking to become Archons will chase that dream by any means. And they have no plans of giving up control of the realms."
"Yeah, yeah." I shook my head. "I'mma put an end to that. But what do you want? I know you ain't come here just to drop exposition on me."
"You were the one who requested I begin from the top."
"Bitch, focus."
She sighed, the breath from her nose sharper than her words. "I'm here to offer a truce for this Stellar Kingdom Cycle."
My eyes narrowed. She was being too diplomatic. Too polished.
"I'm willing to stay out of yours and Omnia's way," she said, her voice curling like smoke around a fire that hadn't started yet, "if you're willing to do me a little favor…"
I already didn't like where this was going.
"…and kill your father."
"Damn." I blinked. "You ask for a lot. Especially for a bitch that a part of me don't like."
"It's not the fun part of you anyway." She smirked. "But think about it. You don't have to have fate against you in this life."
Her request was heavy—sinister. Sure, I didn't know the man, but to be told to end him out of the blue was wild. Why him? What was so dangerous about some washed-up Majin last seen doped out on moonsand? She'd been forthcoming with info, but I could feel it. Like someone talking too much and still saying too little. She was hiding something.
"What's your beef with my sperm donor?"
"The path he walks," she said calmly, "will bring forth the 14th timeline reset. Creating another Stellar Kingdom. One, I'd rather we avoid this time around."
"Sounds like you need to be over there tussling with him, and not me."
"If only it were allowed. Archons are forbidden from waging personal battles within the Inner Realms."
I paused, hand resting near my blade. "Still... you want me to end the life of the man who gave one to me. Yet, he hasn't wronged me."
"No," she said slowly, stepping close again. "But he is a threat to your future paradise plans."
She began walking around me, her feet making no sound on the floor. It was like she moved in sync with my heartbeat, her pace a calculated tease. My blood rushed faster, not with lust, but warning. The Noir Empress responded first, armor warping on its own. Black metal curled into spikes across my chestplate and gauntlets, the hiss of heated magitons swelling in a protective aura. Even Red Queen—quiet in her holster—began to hum with stored potential, its glow peeking out like an eager ember.
Destini noticed.
"You don't have to answer it now," she whispered. "In time, you may come to change your view on him. And I will be there to ask again."
"What if I still say no... because I just don't like you?"
"You hurt me." Her smile was blades wrapped in silk. "Would you like to spend some time together, alone, and get to know me better? …Again."
That's when everything said, "hell no."
The Noir Empress flexed, releasing a low mechanical growl through my gauntlets, the spikes twitching like they were about to lunge. Red Queen buzzed with rising heat, her internal chamber alive with magitons I wasn't commanding. My own gear had decided for me: this bitch was a threat, temptation laced in treachery.
Destini giggled.
"Oh, right," she said, folding her hands behind her back, "you belong to my daughter now."
I scowled. "Are we done here?"
She stopped circling, returning to her original position, her smile dimming.
"I guess we are. But to show you I'm here on good faith…"
With a snap of her fingers, an ebony wood chest blinked into existence in front of me, glowing faintly with celestial shimmer. My eyes widened. It was the chest—the one that blew into the sky during my fight with Draco. I hadn't seen it since.
A second snap echoed, and a portal opened to my right. Cyan energy curled outward in spectral waves like fog underwater. I couldn't see inside… but I felt its pull.
"You'll find the last Artifact you need to complete your Guardian Armament through there," she said, nodding toward the glowing veil. "Consider it your reward for completing your trial. And tell my daughter, I said congratulations on her win of the bet."
She tilted her head. "I will send your party members to Gaia. So if you wish to communicate with them before your bonus trial, I suggest you do it now. Until our next meeting… I'll be watching."
"Bonus trial?" I asked, brows furrowing.
But she was already fading, her form dissolving into a puff of magickal energy that shimmered and danced before vanishing like ash on the wind.
And just like that… I was alone.
Alone with my thoughts.
Alone with a wooden chest.
And a glowing portal leading to whatever the hell came next.
Only a few seconds had passed since Destini vanished in that haunting swirl of divine distortion, but I was already swimming through the replay of our conversation like it was a reel stuck on loop. Her words had split my focus wide open—answers layered in riddles, truth wrapped in manipulation, and damn near every sentence laced with the kind of double-meanings that made you question the damn laws of reality.
The revelation that the Outer Gods were not only aware of the Succubus Queen's vengeance against Paradiso, but cool with it—planned it even—just so it could double as a fucking extinction event? That wasn't no fucking strategy, that was sadistic cosmic theatre. Destini said it all with a smile that had too many meanings, like she was trying to see how many strings she could pull before I realized I was the puppet and the stage.
Gaia didn't deserve to be a battlefield for eldritch-divine pettiness. That world had suffered enough from the gods above and the monsters below. It needed freedom, not salvation. And me? I was sick of playing nice with higher powers. My list of enemies was starting to look like a credits roll. It felt like new opposition was added daily.
I took a slow breath and gathered myself, grounding my soul before triggering [Telepathy]. My aura flickered, a ripple of soft lunar blue wrapping around my temples as the spell initiated. But static crackled hard through the mana-line like someone was scraping broken glass across a chalkboard.
"C'mon," I muttered, adjusting the spell's anchoring vectors, rotating the temporal link by a few degrees, and tuning the spatial coordinates. The haze cleared, and boom—connection established.
The Wolfpak's collective presence hit me like warm sunlight through thick fog. The link opened with a visual feed, revealing the four of them posted up in what looked like the same ancient temple we stumbled into after surviving the Trial of the Thriller. Cracked ivory pillars, glowing glyphs humming from the stone, and this ever-present halo of suspended dust that never quite touched the floor. They'd just finished their final trials, sitting in a square formation with that worn-out patience only fighters could muster after pushing past their limits.
Alex tilted his head, ears twitching. "Hey, did y'all just feel that?"
"Yo, fools," I said, my voice sliding into their minds like velvet smoke. "It's Xi. A lot of shit's happened, and I'mma be in here a lil' longer."
Luda's presence pinged back first, his tone focused. "You good? I wouldn't think you'd run into any problems."
Artamis followed, his energy cold and stoic as always. "Who's giving you an issue? Is it a Cardinal King?"
Alex blinked. "Y'all fought one of those, too?"
Steez's voice came with a lazy drawl. "Mine was a bee and shit."
I sighed through the link. "Fuck no. Listen, them portals'll take you wherever you choose. I'll be back soon as I wrap this mess up. And trust—I got info for days when I get out."
Luda pulsed with amusement. "Alright, Xi. I've got someone I need you to meet, too."
Alex buzzed with excitement. "And I got somethin' cool to show ya!"
"Say less," I replied. "I'll see y'all soon."
The link faded, their warmth drifting out like the last glow from a fire. I exhaled through my nose and looked down at the chest sitting in front of me. Unopened. Untouched. But my mind? Man, it was doing laps.
The road ahead was muddy as hell. Destini made it clear I wasn't on her level yet. I needed to seize control of the "plot" if I was going to achieve my goals. I wasn't even sure which genre we were in anymore. Endgame looked distant. My power was loud, unrefined, not god-breaking yet. But powerless? Nah. That would never be me again.
Draco's death hadn't triggered the seal's collapse, which meant the Succubus Queen hadn't just strolled outta Hell on a casual walk. She would have to be let out on purpose. Which meant the seal held. And if the seal held, then she wasn't the next big problem. Yet.
"At least I can see what was behind door number three, now."
I dropped into a squat and flipped the lock on the chest. It shattered like cheap candy beneath my grip. Inside rested a single artifact: a mask. Jet-black. Faceless. Smooth as obsidian, with twin hollow eye slots and a single full moon design carved deep into the forehead—so clean it looked etched by gravity itself.
It shimmered under the moon's ambient mana glow like moonlight trapped in water. When my fingers brushed it, a soft pulse echoed back into my hand—my mana wrapping around the mask like it was hugging something forgotten. The artifact pulsed once in response, blooming with a cold, silvery radiance that traced up my wrist and down my arm in a river of glowing script.
It was like holding a slice of midnight. Powerful. Quiet. Beautiful in a way that whispered danger.
"I like this shit," I said under my breath.
[Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] stirred inside me, his voice smooth and clinical. "Artifact parameters aligned. Death's Mask is now locked to your soul's frequency."
Karma chimed in next, her tone always laced with sultriness. "Equipment added to the loadout, papi."
"Efficient as always, everyone," I muttered, watching as the mask dissolved into liquid shadow and vanished into my [Midnight World].
My eyes lifted to the portal ahead. The mana around it writhed like dancing nebulae—thick with the promise of conflict, heavy with spiritual gravity. According to Destini, the next piece was just beyond: the artifact needed to seal the anima, Blue. The last piece of my Guardian Armament.
And more importantly, my Ultra Skill.
I'd been crawling toward that goal since the first breath of this second life. Now, I could finally see it glimmering at the edge of my reach. If I wanted to stand tall in the war that stretched across realms—between angels and devils, fate and chaos—I needed to grab every piece of my potential and weaponize it.
Because brute strength alone wasn't gonna carry me through this.
I ran my fingers through my dreads, tightening the last few locks behind my ears as the portal's pull intensified.
I wasn't just chasing destiny anymore.
According to the Archon of Fate, I was the twist to it. What destiny feared.
So I stepped forward, one foot crossing the veil with calm confidence and unshakable drive.
Ready to fight the universe.
[End of Chapter]
[1] Year Five.