Silence stretched between them.
The old man's molten gaze bore into Evolis, waiting. Expecting.
The weight of the question still lingered in the air.
"Do you seek strength for the sake of proving yourself?"
"Or do you seek it so that what happened to us, to my people—never happens to you?"
It should have been an easy question to answer.
For most, strength was a means to an end—a way to stand at the pinnacle, to dominate, to carve their names into history. A lesser man would have wanted power for power's sake. For vengeance. For control. For self-glorification.
But Evolis?
He closed his eyes, feeling the heavy air of the chamber press around him.
For as long as he could remember, he had always been fighting. Surviving. Growing stronger, not for the sake of himself, but because he had no choice. The world didn't allow weakness. The gods didn't allow weakness. If you weren't strong enough, you would be used, discarded, or worse—left helpless while everything you cared about was destroyed in front of you.
He thought of Aeliana, curled up in the corner, her face hidden beneath silver strands of hair. He thought of Orion, the ever-smiling warrior who now trembled in silence.
He thought of Lyris, who had been his anchor since childhood, whose absence felt like a missing limb.
He thought of his family, the celestial figures in his fragmented memories, standing beneath a golden sky that no longer existed.
Strength wasn't about proving himself.
Strength was about protecting them. All of them.
His golden eyes flickered open.
And yet—before he could even speak, the old man's lips curled ever so slightly.
"Ah… so this is the path you have chosen."
Evolis blinked.
The old man exhaled, stepping forward. "To protect, rather than conquer. To guard, rather than rule. You seek not power, but the ability to ensure those under your wings are never left to suffer alone." His molten gaze gleamed. "A path built upon conviction rather than ambition. You are not the first to walk it."
Evolis didn't speak. He didn't have to.
The being had already seen everything.
The old man turned, his robes shifting like flowing mist as he walked toward the tesseract, placing a hand upon its glowing crystalline surface.
"This is the legacy of my people," he said, voice quiet but filled with reverence. "A final fragment of what was lost. A bloodline born not from the will of the gods, but from the mastery of the mind. The culmination of thought and willpower made manifest."
The tesseract pulsed, a rhythmic hum vibrating through the air.
"This was forged by our finest Eidosmiths, beings who could construct things through the usage of sheer willpower alone. Beings who had no need for mere mortal materials, and could craft using the very fibres of the universe itself. It was made to hold our legacy and to protect it."
The Etherion and mist in the surroundings began to vibrate, as if celebrating the return of something great.
"The Astravyn Bloodline."
Evolis stepped closer, feeling the sheer power thrumming from the construct. The energy was unlike anything he had felt before—it didn't surge like flames or crash like waves. It was silent, controlled, infinite.
"Astravyn did not wield blades," the old man continued. "They did not raise armies. We did not need to."
His eyes darkened.
"The mind is a weapon beyond all else. The will, an unbreakable blade."
The tesseract pulsed again, and Evolis felt it. A pull—not just at his body, but at something deeper. His soul.
"The first gate is already open," the old man murmured, watching him. "That mist—the trial of illusions—it could not touch you. Not because you were stronger, but because your mind is not shackled by the same fears as others. You did not need to break free, because there was never a cage to begin with."
Evolis frowned slightly. "Are you saying I don't have fears?"
The old man smirked. "No. But unlike your companions, you have already chosen to carry yours rather than run from them."
Evolis glanced back at Aeliana and Orion, still curled up in the aftermath of their trials. His expression hardened.
He didn't like seeing them like this.
But at the same time, he understood.
Whatever they had faced… it wasn't something they could afford to keep avoiding.
The old man extended a hand toward the tesseract. "You came here seeking strength. You found a graveyard. But what remains here is not just death—it is inheritance."
Evolis felt his breath hitch slightly.
"This bloodline has no kings, no divine right. It has only one requirement."
His molten gaze locked onto Evolis once more.
"The will to never kneel."
The words sent a shiver down Evolis' spine.
Before speaking, Evolis glanced at Aeliana. She was still trembling, lost in a pain she hadn't yet conquered. His jaw clenched. He had come here for strength, but… what was the point of power if he was the only one who had it?
"Senior," Evolis finally said, "can this bloodline be given to someone else instead?"
For a long moment, there was silence.
And then—
"It isn't possible." Evolis was about to ask why but before he could the being continued, "Your body is uniquely fit to inherit bloodlines and assimilate them. Especially bloodlines of this rank." He pointed towards the tesseract, "But—" The being also gazed towards Aeliana, "I have taken a liking to this child's willpower, and... she has an energy which would be uniquely tailored to my expertise."
"Your expertise?" Evolis was confused.
"Ah it seems I have not introduced myself yet, my apologies." The air turned chaotic, maelstroms of energy swirling around the room, "My name is Asmodeus. The universe's most powerful Neurova, a branch of our bloodline who specialize in telepathic abilities."
Energy thrummed, as the man announced his title.
In this world the higher one went, and the more achievements they made, the more their name would be inscribed on the Cosmic AscensionRecord. Which meant that their names carried more power, and even uttering their name would cause the surrounding energy to be in imbalance.
"I shall impart my bloodline to her, as I am but a mere soul remnant after the passage of so many years." The being announced.
He then turned towards Evolis, "You must be wondering how a soul can impart on a bloodline. The answer is simple yet complex at the same time. Our race carries our bloodline not in our worldly forms but it is inscribed unto our very souls, therefore even in this form I can still grant it to her."
Evolis stared at the old man. And then he tilted his head slightly, as the energy that had once calmed, now began to rage again, even slightly more than when the man announced his name.
"Thank you senior, you have my, Evolis Aetherion's, gratitude." This had been the first time Evolis had bowed in this lifetime, as it seemed that even the world was astounded by what he was doing. He didn't know it now, but this was the third time he had ever expressed his gratitude and bowed his head to another being in his lifetimes. But it was worth it. As it was on the behalf of someone he had come to greatly care about.
The old man didn't say anything for a long while and just stared at Evolis. His gaze softening slightly.
Then without saying anything he pressed his palm to the tesseract.
The world shifted.
Light erupted from the crystalline construct, arcs of golden-silver energy lashing out, filling the chamber with an overwhelming presence. Symbols along the walls ignited, the very air vibrating as the weight of an entire lost civilization bore down on Evolis' soul.
His body felt weightless. His mind… vast. Endless. Expanding.
And then—
Something entered him.
Not gently. Not like the slow trickle of understanding.
But violently.
It was not knowledge—it was a rupture, a force that carved itself into his very essence.
Pain.
Unimaginable, searing pain.
Evolis barely had time to scream before his entire being was set ablaze. Not with fire, but with something deeper—a brand upon his soul, a cosmic truth forcibly etched into the fabric of his existence.
His knees buckled, his body convulsing as something beyond mortal comprehension dug into him, inscribing itself onto a level no healer could ever reach, no force could ever remove.
It was like being ripped apart and remade in an instant, his essence torn open, reshaped, redefined—not by choice, but by absolute will.
He could feel it burning into him, spiraling through every thread of his being, a power so alien yet so perfectly fitting that it was as if he had merely forgotten it had always been there.
His mind—his very soul—was splintering. Expanding. Shattering and reforging all at once.
Memories not his own flashed before his eyes. A civilization of towering spires, floating citadels held aloft by thought alone. A people who moved the world without hands, who shaped reality with the sheer force of their will. A war. Fire raining from the heavens. Cities collapsing not because of battle—but because the very fabric of their existence had been unraveled by divine decree.
His hands clawed at his chest as if he could physically grasp the sensation, as if he could hold onto himself while he was being rewritten.
The pain was endless. A baptism of agony.
But deep within the torment, beneath the overwhelming weight of knowledge, power, and inheritance—
He felt it.
A presence. A power. A connection to something so much greater than himself.
His mind expanded.
His soul burned.
His very existence shifted—not into something new, but into something that had always been waiting for him to awaken.
And then—
The world snapped back into focus.
Evolis staggered.
His breathing was ragged, his golden irises flickering with a white light as they began glowing brighter than ever before. His body felt the same, yet not. His mind, once sharp and disciplined, now hummed with a new awareness, as if a hidden sense had just been unlocked.
He clenched his fist.
And without even thinking—
A nearby piece of broken rubble floated.
His eyes widened.
Not through gravity. Not through force.
Through will.
The old man watched him, satisfaction and surprise flickering in his ancient gaze.
'The boy didn't even pass out from the pain, his willpower is phenomenal'
"Astravyn's first gift," he murmured. "The power to impose your will upon the world."
Evolis felt the telekinetic force bend to his thoughts, shaping around him as naturally as breathing.
And then—
A deeper sensation pulsed within him.
Not external. Internal.
Memories. Echoes of what once was. Not his.
Something else.
His eyes sharpened.
"What… is this?"
The old man's smirk deepened.
"Soul Search," he said. "The ability to peer into the memories of others and... eventually change them to fit your own narrative."
His gaze fell onto Aeliana and Orion who were still recovering, still trapped in their own minds.
The gift of Astravyn surged through him, his newfound ability whispering a single truth.
If he wanted to…
If he reached deep enough…
He could see their pain.
Understand it.
And maybe—just maybe—help pull them out.
The old man crossed his arms.
"They have to face the trials by themselves boy, you cannot interfere. It would do more harm than good."
Evolis shook his head dismissing his idea, before focusing on the mark on his soul again.
There it was, the Astravyn Sigil—a living construct of thought itself, an eternal fractal that spirals infinitely inward and outward, forever shifting yet never changing.
At its core was a luminous eye, its pupil resembling a constantly folding tesseract, a geometric paradox that defied comprehension. Instead of a simple iris, it held a cosmos within—a swirling galaxy of shifting silver and deep obsidian.
Encircling the eye are three concentric rings, each inscribed with ancient glyphs of willpower, mental dominion, and transcendence—glyphs that did not simply glow, but breathed, shifting subtly as if responding to his thoughts.
Beyond the rings, the symbol branches outward into fractal veins of energy, threading like a neural network, resembling the pathways of the mind itself. These veins extended infinitely, fading in and out of reality, as if they exist in multiple dimensions at once.
The sigil pulsed—not with light, but with intention. It was not merely seen; it was felt, resonating deep within his soul. Even gazing at it made him feel a subtle pressure on his mind as his thoughts were being drawn to its depths.
"The bloodline you have received is of the highest rank, the primordial rank, which will allow you to perform feats in the future that would look like miracles to you now wit a wave of your hand. But you will have to work extremely hard to unlock the rest of the abilities tied to it."
"Now that I have bestowed upon you my race's legacy Evolis, you have to understand that this power comes with a burden."
Evolis had expected this, as there was no way after the man had told him about his race's history and given him this power, that he wouldn't ask for something in return.
"You will become an enemy to the entire Divine Pantheon." The words were heavy, settling upon Evolis, as another weight settled on his shoulders.
"I'm not asking you to massacre all the gods as that would not only be hypocritical but also unrealistic of me to ask. But rather just to kill one being. The one who caused it all."
"A man who was once considered our race's most gifted scion, but eventually betrayed us to the gods. A man who's name I cannot even speak, as it would destroy this entire planet with its weight." The world subtly shook as if acknowledging Asmodeus' words.
"The man known as The Fool. The trickster. Or as his other title says... Lopt. The one who became the God of Stories."
"The choice is yours, Evolis Aetherion."
Evolis exhaled, flexing his fingers, feeling the power hum beneath his skin.
The weight of inheritance settled onto his shoulders.
He had already chosen his path.
"Evolis…"
A voice, fragile as a whisper, called his name.
His gaze snapped toward Aeliana. She was still trapped within the illusion, her body curled tightly against itself. Her breathing was uneven, shallow, her hands trembling as if clutching at something—or someone—that no longer existed.
"Please… save her…"
Evolis' heart clenched. There was no hesitation in his step as he moved toward her.
"She must truly care for you," Asmodeus murmured, his deep voice laced with something almost unreadable. "Even in the depths of her illusion, her thoughts reach for you. That is not mere coincidence."
Evolis didn't respond.
He simply knelt, gathering Aeliana gently into his arms, his fingers brushing against the dampness on her cheeks. Her body was cold, as if the weight of her grief had seeped into her very bones.
He cradled her close, his lips near her ear. His voice was steady, unwavering, filled with a certainty that reached beyond mere words.
"It's going to be okay, Aeliana."
His arms tightened around her as he whispered, "Everything's going to be okay."
Aeliana's trembling slowed. The tension in her body eased, her rigid form softening against him.
As if that was all she needed to hear.
Her breathing steadied, her expression shifting—from anguish to quiet serenity.
And then, her emerald eyes fluttered open, glazed at first, unfocused, before locking onto his.
Golden irises flickering with white light met hers, still damp with the remnants of sorrow. She stared, as if grounding herself back into reality, as if making sure he was real.
Then, before he could say anything else—
She threw her arms around him.
Tightly. Desperately.
Evolis stiffened, caught off guard, but only for a moment. Then, slowly, he let himself relax, resting his chin against her hair.
Aeliana's shoulders trembled against his chest. Her breath hitched, and then—a silent sob escaped her.
She didn't wail. Didn't break down completely.
But he could feel it.
The grief. The years of suppressed pain. The raw wound she had buried for so long, now laid bare before him.
She clung to him as though he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. And as her soft, barely-audible whispers reached his ears—
He realized.
She was calling for her mother.
She had relived that day. The day she lost her. The day her world had been shattered.
Evolis said nothing.
He just held her. Let her grieve. Let her take whatever time she needed.
Because sometimes, there were no words that could fix a wound that deep.
And sometimes, just being there was enough.
Aeliana's trembling eased. Her breath steadied against his chest, the weight of exhaustion finally overtaking her as she let herself rest.
Evolis exhaled, his golden irises dimming as the flickering white glow from his bloodline settled. He didn't move. He didn't let go.
Not until he felt her breathing even out completely.
From the corner of his eye, a shift in the air caught his attention.
Orion.
His body still lay motionless against the far wall, his hands clenched so tightly into fists that his knuckles were bloodless. His trial wasn't over yet—but soon, it would be.
And when it was…
They would need to talk.
Evolis' gaze flickered back to Asmodeus, the ancient being watching him with a knowing look.
There was still more to learn.
Still more to understand.
But for now—he simply held Aeliana close, letting the silence settle.
And waited.