The entity studied the boy.
No—not a boy. Not anymore. Not entirely at least.
The entity, still coalescing into form even now, tilted its head slightly to the side as it hovered above the sundered ground. In its hand floated the Tome, heavy with writhing runes, endless streams of runes flowing out of its fractal pages. But something was wrong.
It was looking. It was searching. And it was finding nothing.
[Adversary Class: Pawn Confirmed]
[Dominion Protocol: Error]
[Designation: Error]
Error.
That word again.
The entity blinked—though it had no eyelids. Its gaze shimmered like a thousand mirrors cracked over one another, eyes that had no pupils but saw too much.
Kaelix stood before it, his body unmistakably adulterated. His soul torn, his mind dipped in the void. The marks that he was an Adversary were there. The Tome recognized him. But it did not know what to do with him.
More importantly—it felt no control over the boy.
Why?
The Tome pulsed with another surge of runes, more urgent now, as if trying to explain itself, as if panicking. And yet, all it could give was:
[Lower Class Adversary Recognized]
[Advent Authority: Non-Existent]
[Command Integration: Error]
The entity narrowed its eyes.
That should not be possible.
It was still new to this world, yes—still shaping itself into the form most suited to this realm. A being half-made of law and half-made of dream. But its instincts were as old as this Advent itself.
And those instincts told it that this creature before it should not be the way it was.
It looked at the boy more closely. Kaelix stood in the crater, his body twisted by the adulteration—black carapace glinting like bone in starlight, limbs contoured by alien geometries, veins that didn't quite pulse but hummed.
And yet... nothing.
Not a single Lorerune.
No runes poured from him.
No tales etched themselves into the world around him. He was silent. Unreadable.
He was not secretly a higher class Adversary. Which only meant one thing.
An anomaly.
And the entity found that it was not afraid.
Just annoyed.
I gave him death, it thought coldly. A clean end. No pain. No more yearning. What a shame he refused the gift.
It let the Tome float higher, its tendrils of runes swirrling through the air like smoke. It considered its next move.
Would it kill him again?
Would it bind him?
Or...
Would it speak?
Recruitment wasn't out of the question. After all, something like this could prove valuable. Not as a soldier—no, too wild, too unknown—but perhaps as a… lever. A fulcrum. A new avenue for it to become an even stronger Adversary.
Its eyes flared again as it took peered at him deeper—
—and the Adversaries surrounding Kaelix froze.
The horde that had been tearing into his flesh just moments ago—ripping, gnawing, shrieking—fell suddenly silent. They twitched. They stilled. Their hollow mouths stayed open as if caught mid-bite, but no further motion came.
Kaelix blinked.
Something had changed.
He looked down at his strange new form, black and patchworked like something half-forged and half-forgotten. There was no pain. No breathing. No warmth. Yet his senses were intact—or something close to it.
The silence of the Adversaries unsettled him more than their attack.
They didn't see him as prey anymore.
But they didn't see him as kin, either.
They backed away and circled him slowly now, twitching like glitching images in a corrupted dream. Their bodies dragged along the blood-slick floor, too many limbs scraping. Their heads tilted in odd unison, empty sockets staring.
He raised his arm slowly. It felt wrong. Not his. A machine? A parasite? A rebirth?
He didn't know.
He just moved.
One of the twitching Adversaries jerked toward him.
And Kaelix struck.
It wasn't calculated. He barely even made the choice.
His arm lashed out—faster than it should have. His claws—when had he gained claws?—sliced through the creature's midsection like it was made of paper. The impact sent it flying sideways, embedded into a pillar of malformed stone with a sickening crunch.
Silence.
Even the entity paused.
Kaelix looked down at his own limb, still trembling slightly from the strike. It didn't hurt. Not physically. But something beneath his skin shivered.
Not in fear.
In recognition.
He was no longer the same.
And for the first time since the Adulteration began—he was aware of what that meant.
His arm, still outstretched from the impact, trembled not from exertion, but from something else—uncertainty. What… what did he just do?
That thing he struck, the Adversary—he hadn't punched it so much as redirected it. A backhand meant to swat a fly had sent the abomination careening across the dead field, embedding it halfway into a cracked stone wall. Kaelix's own body didn't register strain. No pain, no recoil. The action had felt… natural. But also fundamentally wrong, like using someone else's limbs while still pretending they were yours.
He slowly looked down at his arms. His carapaced forearms shimmered with faint shifting veins of energy beneath the white plates. The joints were too fluid, too silent, like he had shed more than flesh.
This isn't strength, he thought, this is something else entirely.
Then, from the corner of his eye, movement. The Adversary he had just struck began pulling itself out of the crater, stone and dust falling off its black, half-liquid form like water. It rose fully to its feet—unharmed. Not even a crack in its midsection remained.
It turned, mouth still open in its eternal gnashing twitch, and walked calmly back into formation with the others surrounding him.
Kaelix's brows furrowed.
"What…?"
Then, a voice—smooth, slow, and filled with the kind of curiosity that felt more like dissection than conversation:
"Adversaries birthed of the same Advent cannot harm each other."
Kaelix turned.
The being was floating inches off the ground, dark tendrils flowing from its lower form like leaking ink suspended in space. It still wore Nick's face—calm, benevolent, utterly detached.
"Without my permission at least," it added, tilting its head slightly.
Kaelix's eyes narrowed.
Of course. Of course there were rules. Laws. Even here, in this broken fragment of reality, everything still bowed to systems.
The entity floated closer, the Tome still bleeding runes behind it like a cloak of dying stars. But its expression had changed. The analytical mask with his brother's face remained, but something softened beneath it. Not kindness. Not malice. Something worse—interest.
"You really are strange. No Lorerunes. No origin. Not even a proper Adversary. And yet… you live."
Kaelix said nothing.
"Your brother was right to see something special in you. I dismissed that faith. I was… wrong."
Kaelix's lip twitched. The fury was still there, coiled tightly like a spring.
"You've maintained your sense of existence. That is not something I know of, even admirable. I could offer you something, you know."
Kaelix's stance stiffened.
"Join me. This Advent is still growing. There are protectors belonging to this world gathering outside the veil—many. Too many for you. When they breach, they will kill anything that bears the mark of the Advent. Including you."
It extended a hand.
"But help me expand, purge this minor realm, and I will share with you my strength. My protection. Your pain will be useful, your grief a weapon."
Kaelix looked at the outstretched hand.
From behind the entity, the glowing glitch-runes returned. But this time, they did not declare. They asked:
[Reestablish connection with Advent?]
A silence fell.
The Adversaries surrounding Kaelix were no longer gnashing. They stood twitching, open-mouthed, unmoving. Like statues waiting for divine command.
Kaelix raised his eyes to meet the entity's gaze. He didn't speak for a long moment.
Then, his voice, low and fierce:
"You know… I made a promise not too long ago."
The entity tilted its head again.
"I promised to tear something human out of you."
His voice sharpened, resolute:
"And taking your offer, or running from this place, would break that promise."
The air around Kaelix shifted.
"I'm not leaving until I rip my brother out of whatever you've become."
[Request Rejected...]
And then, he moved.
The entity had not expected it.
Kaelix launched himself straight into the air—an inhuman jump that cracked the ground beneath him. His monstrous form blurred, white carapace streaking upward like a meteor against the dead sky. His hands were already drawn back, claws aimed for the entity's face.
The floating being's expression remained unreadable—but this time, it felt genuine. Not fear. But surprise.
Kaelix flew toward him like a blade unbound.
He was almost face to face with the entity.
Almost.
His strike missed.
The world blurred, and then suddenly he was plummeting through the air, no longer locked on to the being in front of him. It had vanished.
He crashed into the stage below with an echoing impact, embedding himself several feet into the now stone-like platform. The splintered ground crackled beneath him, a jagged crater forming around his cratered body. Dust and chunks of broken matter tumbled around as he groaned, pressing his claws into the shattered foundation to lift himself.
"Fast," he muttered. "Too fast."
He had hoped to catch it off guard—to leverage the raw, monstrous strength this new body offered him. Instead, it was he who had been caught off guard, once again.
Above him, the entity clicked its tongue in audible disappointment. It floated mid-air, one arm folded behind its back, and the other still holding the Tome.
That borrowed face—Nick's face—wore an expression of amused disdain.
"Tch. I was under the impression that Adversaries were elevated beyond foolish instincts, but here you are… trying to pounce on me like a rabid stray. Has becoming something more not increased your mental faculties?"
Kaelix snarled, yanking himself free from the wreckage and glaring upward.
"Oh well," the entity sighed. "You shame the gift you've been given. I had hoped to make something of you. But alas…"
It raised the floating Tome slightly in one hand, as though making a casual offering.
"Despite your mysterious nature, you hold no use if uncompliant. Some mysteries, I suppose, must die with their bearers."
At that, the Adversaries surrounding Kaelix—those twitching, gaping husks that had been silently encircling him—lurched.
With no howl or warning, they attacked.
They came all at once.
A storm of twisted limbs, gnarled mouths, and claws stained in black bile collapsed upon Kaelix like a tide of rot.
But this time—he didn't flinch. Didn't run.
He met them head-on.
His first swing took the head clean off one of them. A burst of white carapace and ichor followed.
But it didn't fall.
The severed head twitched. The body stumbled—and simply reattached itself, like time had reversed. No blood. No pain. No pause.
Kaelix's eyes widened.
"What the—"
Another came from his right. He drove an elbow into its chest, crushing it backward with an echoing crack.
No reaction.
It twisted unnaturally and lunged again.
He grabbed one by the neck and threw it into another. They clattered to the ground, broken.
They rose immediately, joints contorting like dislocated puppets.
Every attack. Every hit. Every brutal strike he delivered.
Useless.
They never stayed down. Not for a second.
They were weaker than him—much more so. But they were legion. An endless swarm that rebuilt itself in seconds.
Claws tore at him. Teeth gnashed.
And finally—
CRACK.
One pierced his shoulder.
A hiss escaped him. His back arched.
Deep red blood, vibrant and alive, spilled from the cracked black carapace.
"Tch—ah..." he growled.
A stinging, searing pain rippled through his nervous system.
The first real wound.
Then—
[Nexus Rune Spark Detected]
The glowing symbols manifested again in his vision, flickering not in declaration but in question this time.
[Activate Nexus Rune Spark?]
Kaelix stared at the message.
And then he felt it. Something beneath the pain. Like pressure in the blood itself.
A presence.
A choice.
All he needed was to say one word.
He slowly raised his carapace-covered face to glare at the entity above.
It was watching, impassive. Almost bored.
He could feel that more holes had been made in his body and more blood had been spilt but he maintained eye contact with the entitity.
He wanted to make sure it was watching.
And with a heavy, deliberate and mighty tone, he roared
"...Ignite,"
The blood at his feet shimmered. Boiled. Flared.
Then detonated.
A torrent of red flame surged outward from his body like a bomb, engulfing the mob of Adversaries around him. They shrieked—whether in pain or confusion was impossible to tell—as the crimson explosion erupted upward.
And Kaelix stood within—engulfed in a wreath of blood-red flame.