The morning light spilled across the camp like a quiet promise after the storm. Soldiers moved between tents, carrying weapons and supplies. The rebellion's banner—half flame, half frost—fluttered against the wind. For a fleeting moment, it felt like hope might be winning.
Lian Xueyin and Yue Xiang stood at the edge of the camp, their figures a contrast of dawn and dusk—Lian's frost aura glimmering pale blue, Yue Xiang's glow soft and silver. They spoke little but worked easily together, directing troops and healing the wounded.
I watched from a distance, half-proud, half-wary. They were as different as night and tide—Lian, all control and discipline; Yue, all calm and warmth—but somehow, their strength together steadied the chaos that had consumed this place.
Arina's voice stirred quietly in my mind, clear as river water.
"They complement each other the way your power does. Frost and flow, flame and calm. But even balance can break when hearts begin to move beyond reason."
"You're talking about me again," I said softly.
"No," she replied. "I'm talking about humanity."
Her tone carried no judgment, only truth. I knew what she meant. The more deeply I connected to others, the more the mark inside me pulsed, feeding on feeling—both light and dark.
As I watched the two women commanding soldiers, I could sense their strength intertwining with mine through invisible threads. The Divinity Goddess System didn't just summon; it bonded. My emotions were their source of power—and their presence, in turn, made those emotions burn brighter.
Maybe too bright.
When I turned away from the camp to find quiet, Arina continued, her voice carrying a new depth—like something ancient waking.
"You once asked me what the Goddess System truly is," she said. "Now that you have bound two companions and absorbed the Abyss Source, it is time you know."
The air around me shimmered faintly; faint motes of light drifted through the morning wind.
"The Goddess System," Arina said, "is not a gift of divinity. It's a trial left by a dying deity—the Divinity Goddess herself. Its purpose is simple: to rebuild what the gods destroyed by merging divine essence with human hearts."
"Merging?" I frowned. "You mean we're becoming gods?"
"Not gods," she replied. "Balance itself. Every host who accepts the awakenthe storm. s, thesystem bears both creation and destruction inside. Your compassion fuels your power, but so does your pain. The more you feel, the more the System awakens. And the more it awakens—the closer you come to losing yourself as a person."
I pressed a hand to my chest. The mark beneath my skin throbbed faintly. "So I'm walking toward divinity by killing my humanity."
"Yes," Arina said softly. "That is the price of power that unifies worlds. Every host before you failed because they forgot which feeling made them fight in the first place."
Her voice grew quieter, almost tender. "I can guide you, but I cannot feel. Only you can decide which emotion defines your existence."
I stood there for a while, staring at my hand. The faint glow beneath the skin looked almost beautiful—and dangerous.
Behind me, footsteps approached.
Yue Xiang stopped first, carrying a jug of water. "You're hiding again," she said with her usual calm smile. "Is this what kings do before wars?"
"I'm not a king," I said.
"Not yet," she teased lightly, setting the jug down. "But people follow you like one."
Before I could respond, Lian joined us, her voice cool. "The scouts returned. Zhao Tian's forces are setting upawakens, thesetting up camps near the eastern pass. We have only a few days before they reach us."
Her tone was practical, but I felt the distance between us. Since Yue's summoning, Lian had grown quieter, sharper around the edges.
Yue Xiang looked at her gently. "I can help fortify the outer barrier with my tide energy. If we combine it with your frost wall, it will hold longer."
For a moment, I thought Lian might refuse, but she simply nodded. "Do it. The men trust your light even if they don't understand it."
Together, they turned to face the soldiers again, their forms merging with the rising sun. I watched them work side by side—Yue's gentle guidance soothing the wounded while Lian's orders carved discipline into chaos.
And within me, the system shifted.
Arina's whisper brushed my mind. "Do you see now, Mukul? Their spirits harmonize with yours, but that strength comes at a cost. Every bond deepens your divinity. Each emotion you share risks breaking your balance."
"What happens if I do?" I asked quietly.
"Then the system consumes itself," she said. "Your will would burn bright enough to rewrite the laws of creation—or destroy everything connected to you."
Her voice trembled, something rare for her. "And everything connected to you now includes them."
I looked at Yue Xiang's calm figure, her silver light touching the wounded like a mother's embrace. Then at Lian Xueyin, standing tall at the front lines, her frost barrier glinting blue beneath the sunrise.
Two opposite souls tied to mine, unknowingly walking the thin edge between salvation and ruin.
Arina's tone softened like a sigh. "They will protect you without hesitation. But the greater danger is that, in time, you might try to protect them at the cost of everything else."
The mark flared once, reacting to the thought—an echo of desire and fear. I clenched my fist over it. "No. I won't let my heart decide who lives or dies."
"That's the illusion every host held before losing themselves," Arina whispered.
The rest of the day passed in uneasy preparation. By dusk, both Lian and Yue had finished reinforcing the defenses. The soldiers cheered, a small spark of strength returning to their weary faces.
When night came, I met both of them near the river outside camp. The moon's reflection made the water glow like moving glass.
"You two saved us today," I said quietly.
Yue Xiang smiled. "Just part of your story now."
Lian nodded, her tone level. "Try to keep that story from ending too soon."
Their words were simple, but for a heartbeat, something unspoken wove between the three of us—something fragile, bright, and terrifying.
I looked toward the horizon where clouds gathered over the empire. The mark beneath my skin pulsed faintly again, almost as if the goddess herself stirred within.
Arina's voice followed, faint and distant. "The threads tighten, Mukul. Balance demands its due. The closer you come to love or loss, the faster divinity wakes."
Her words haunted me as the wind shifted across the camp.
Because for the first time, I realized the truth:
To save the world, I might have to lose the last pieces of what made me human.