Chapter 20: Threads Of Fate
Leon staggered as he emerged from the silver fire, the last wisps clinging to his clothes like dying embers.
Before him stood the Celestial Emperor, calm and watchful, seated once more atop his throne of jade and flame. The air was thick with unseen power, humming against Leon's skin.
"You have returned," the Emperor said softly.
Leon swallowed hard, the weight of what he had seen pressing on him like a second gravity. "What... what was that place?"
The Emperor's golden eyes gleamed. "A mirror. A fragment of the truth hidden within your soul."
Leon hesitated, memories flashing behind his eyes—the chains, the voice in the darkness, the shattered mirror. "The System... my abilities... they weren't meant for this world, were they?"
The Emperor's expression darkened slightly. "No. They were never meant for any world."
He stood, descending the steps of his throne with silent grace, until he stood barely a few feet from Leon.
"Even I dared not enter the Forsaken Grave," the Emperor murmured, his voice carrying a quiet, terrifying reverence. "But you did… and something answered. If you still hear its voice, Leon Voss—be wary. Not every gift is meant to be unwrapped."
Leon's heart pounded. He remembered the whisper that had followed him ever since the Grave, faint but insistent—a presence lurking just beyond the veil of his mind.
"What do you mean?" Leon asked.
The Emperor studied him for a long, heavy moment. "Some powers offer strength only to devour the one who wields them. You walk a knife's edge between ascension and annihilation."
The chamber trembled faintly, as if the heavens themselves quivered at the truth unspoken.
The Emperor turned away, pacing slowly toward the massive obsidian doors that led out of the throne room.
"I have stayed my hand, for now," he said. "You are not yet an enemy... but neither are you a pawn I can trust."
Leon stiffened.
"You will leave this place," the Emperor commanded, voice cold once more. "Return to the mortal realms. Grow stronger. Survive. And when the time comes—"He paused, glancing over his shoulder.
"—you will choose. Forsake the gift, or become the storm that breaks the heavens."
The great doors groaned open.
Beyond them, Leon glimpsed the sky of the capital—now heavy with gathering clouds, as if the world itself sensed the coming storm.
Without another word, Leon turned and walked toward the light.
But deep inside him, the whisper stirred again—a faint, chilling laughter echoing across the ruins of his soul.