"To awaken is not to rise—it is to become something else entirely."
"Power does not destroy; it reshapes. And what is left behind is not lost, but simply no longer what it once was."
"Fate does not pull—it waits. And when you step toward it, you do so with your own feet."
The silence after the storm was deafening.
The once-forgotten village now stood under the warmth of the sun, but none of the survivors could rejoice. Their bodies trembled, their souls still shackled by the terror they had witnessed.
The White Serpent was gone.
Yet his presence lingered.
The earth, now marked with the scars of his millions of threads, whispered the tale of his wrath.
And in that moment, the villagers understood.
They were not the ones who had been abandoned.
They were the ones who had forgotten.
The legend. The fear. The power.
And now, fate had come to remind them.
---
Far from the ruins of the village, Ryuxian's form reappeared, his body pulling itself back together from the scattering threads.
His breath came slowly, heavy with the weight of what he had done.
He had felt it—the shift within himself.
The Serpent Code, the threads that wove his fate…
I'm changing.
The thought lingered, but he shoved it aside. His violet and blue eyes flickered with something unreadable as he looked toward the distant sky.
The Black Shadows that had taken the dark entity's body were nowhere to be seen.
But he knew.
They were watching.
Waiting
And so was something else.
A presence he could not yet name, but one that had been watching him from the moment he cut that black thread.
Something beyond his understanding.
And for the first time in a long time…
He felt a flicker of uncertainty.
But he would not stop.
Not now.
Because fate was no longer something he fought against.
It was something he embraced.
And whatever awaited him beyond the horizon—he would face it.
Because he was no longer just Ryuxian.
He was the White Serpent of the Forgotten Threads.
And his story was far from over.
The moment Ryuxian touched the Stardust Marble around his neck, a strange warmth spread through his body.
Underground… I was supposed to…
His thoughts blurred as exhaustion finally claimed him. His body, drained from the immense power he had unleashed, could take no more. His vision darkened, his legs gave way, and he collapsed in the middle of the dimly lit underground pathway.
And there, under the silent sky, he slept.
Like a serpent curled beneath the shade, taking refuge in the darkness after shedding its power.
Three Days of Slumber
For the first time in years, Ryuxian's body did not wake after a few hours.
He slept—deeply.
The pulse of his own power hummed faintly within him, repairing, changing, adapting.
The sky changed three times. The moon rose and fell, the sun burned and dimmed.
And still, he slept.
"Until—Thud.Something smacked against his forehead."
His fingers twitched. A slow breath escaped his lips.
Then, his eyes fluttered open, greeted by the sight of a crimson fruit rolling onto the grass before him.
For a moment, he simply stared at it.
…Did that just hit me?
Then, a strange sensation spread across his body.
His instincts kicked in.
Something deep within him knew.
Something was happening.
The moment he tried to move, his skin—no, his entire body—began to shift.
Shredding.
Fine, translucent pieces of his old skin peeled away, drifting into the air like dust in the wind. His body trembled slightly before settling into something stronger, leaner, sharper.
The weight of exhaustion still clung to him, but beneath it, he felt it—power.
I… shed?
His fingers touched his face, feeling the smoothness of newly formed skin.
His body had changed.
His eyes flickered to the fruit that had woken him.
Without hesitation, he reached for it.
Bite.
The moment his teeth sank into the flesh, the sweetness spread through him.
Warmth. Power. Something old and ancient, yet oddly familiar.
The next thing he knew, his form shifted again.
When he stood up—his reflection in the water revealed something new.
His older, leaner form was gone.
In its place—stood a boy, no older than fourteen.
Violet and blue eyes blinked back at him, filled with quiet confusion.
I… got younger?
A slow sigh left his lips.
"What kind of ridiculous twist is this now?"
His gaze shifted to the nearby river.
Instead of overthinking, he simply stepped forward, letting the cool water embrace him.
He drank until his thirst faded, letting the crispness wash away the weight of fatigue. Then, without thinking, he settled under the moonlight, his back resting against the trunk of a large tree.
For the first time since his transformation—he let himself breathe.
I really overdid it…
His fingers absentmindedly traced the Stardust Marble around his neck.
Next time, I should be more careful.
The night breeze was calm. The silence almost comforting.
Until—
Footsteps.
A presence approached.
Ryuxian's instincts flared, but he did not move.
He let them come.
Closer.
Then—
A voice.
Calling out to him.
"The threads of destiny are not cut so easily. They weave themselves into new shapes, binding even those who believe they are free."