Godslayer's Legacy: THE PATH TO SUPREMACY

The airship drifted cautiously above the colossal sinkhole, its engines humming faintly as stabilizing runes flared along its hull. Below stretched an unfathomable void, its edges crumbling and unstable, as if the earth itself resisted revealing what lay within its depths. Blue mana veins traced jagged patterns along the sinkhole's cavernous edges, casting faint glimmers into the abyss.

Inside the airship's control room, Kovar manipulated floating crystalline panels, his glass brain dome flickering with streams of cascading data. Rui stood beside him, his glowing silver eyes locked on the vast chasm below.

"This sinkhole wasn't on our initial scans," Kovar muttered, his voice edged with unease. "It's as though it... manifested recently. The mana saturation here is—" he paused, fingers freezing over the interface, "—unstable. Wild. It's almost as if something is... breathing below."

Rui's brows furrowed, his sharp gaze unwavering as he observed the shadows dancing along the sinkhole's edges. His aura extended slightly, threads of silvery light spiraling outward and sinking into the Abyssal void.

He felt something. Not an emotion. Not intent. Something heavier.

"It's not just mana down there," Rui said quietly, his voice distant. "There's something else. Something... old."

Kovar's pale eyes flickered with faint alarm. "The stabilization runes on the airship won't hold if the mana pressure surges. You'll need to go alone, Rui. This depth is... uncharted. Unknown."

Rui nodded once, already stepping away from the control room and toward the exterior airlock chamber. His black tunic clung tightly to his form, his silver hair catching the faint ambient light of the mana conduits along the hallway.

Kovar's voice followed him over the comm crystal. "Be careful, Rui. There are echoes here—imprints in the mana threads that even I can't decipher."

The airlock hissed open, and Rui stepped onto the boarding platform. The chilling wind from the Abyss clawed at his skin, and the sheer weight of the void below pressed against his chest like an invisible hand. His silver eyes narrowed as he took a deliberate step forward.

Then, without hesitation, he dropped.

The wind roared past him as Rui descended, his aura flaring outward like silvery wings of light. His body glided effortlessly through the void, suspended by threads of mana woven tightly around him. The further he fell, the colder it became. The light from the sinkhole's edges faded rapidly, swallowed by the consuming shadows below.

Somewhere deep within the abyss, Rui felt it again—that faint pulse of something. It wasn't movement, nor was it mana. It was… grief.

The mana threads around him trembled faintly in response.

What is this? Rui thought, his silver eyes flickering as he descended deeper.

And then—he felt it.

A soundless weeping. Faint, distant, yet undeniably present. It wasn't carried through sound or vibration—it was felt in the threads of mana themselves.

Rui's descent slowed as he hovered in mid-air, suspended above an uneven stone platform that jutted out from the cavern wall below. His boots touched down lightly, and the hum of his mana threads dispersed into faint silvery mist.

The void stretched endlessly before him. The faint flicker of mana veins pulsed softly in the walls, but the light here felt… muted. Dull. Like it was being swallowed by something far heavier.

The weeping grew louder in the stillness. No echo, no source. Just weeping.

Rui's brows furrowed, and he took a step forward.

"Is someone… here?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

The silence answered him with a crushing weight.

---

The path ahead was unstable, fractured stone platforms suspended over an endless black chasm. Rui moved cautiously, his silver eyes cutting through the darkness as he advanced step by step. Each footfall felt heavy—as though the weight of the Abyss itself had sunk into his bones.

The weeping grew clearer with every step. Not closer, not louder—just clearer. It was as if it was seeping into his very essence, resonating deep within his chest.

Then, the light dimmed further. Shadows crept unnaturally along the edges of his vision, curling inward like skeletal fingers reaching from the void. Rui halted, his aura flaring faintly in response.

This place… it's not natural.

The weeping stopped.

The silence that followed was far worse.

Then came the voice—a faint murmur, like the final breath of a dying ember.

"You… walk… here…"

The sound was everywhere and nowhere all at once, reverberating in the mana threads, in the stones, in Rui's very breath.

From the shadows ahead, something began to emerge.

At first, it was formless—a wisp of darkness coiling and unfurling, like smoke rising from a forgotten pyre. But slowly, painfully, it began to take shape.

A colossal figure, cloaked in shadowed fabric that seemed to consume the light itself. Chains—etched with glowing, mournful runes—wrapped around its towering form, binding its arms, its chest, its throat. From beneath its hooded head, faint trails of luminescent liquid—like glowing tears—dripped into the void below.

Its face was empty. A void of absolute darkness where eyes should have been.

"You carry hope where none should walk… child of fleeting light."

Rui froze, his silver eyes locked onto the figure. His aura flared faintly, threads of mana swirling protectively around his frame. His breath was steady, but his chest felt heavy—an invisible weight pressing against his ribs.

The figure raised one chained hand, its movements slow and deliberate. Its voice, though heavy with power, trembled with something else—sorrow.

"Do you know what it feels like… to bear the weight of every soul… lost in this abyss?"

The ground beneath Rui's feet cracked faintly as the pressure of the figure's presence deepened. His aura pushed outward instinctively, a faint silvery light pushing against the crushing darkness.

"Who… are you?" Rui asked, his voice calm yet edged with tension.

The figure tilted its head ever so slightly, chains creaking softly with the motion.

"I am Grief. I am the shadow of every failure, every loss, every unfulfilled promise left to fester in this hollow world."

The weeping began again—soft, distant, yet deafening.

Rui gritted his teeth, his mana threads vibrating violently in response to the overwhelming emotional pressure pressing down on him.

"Yes. But here, in this hollow abyss… I am everything."

The mana threads in the air trembled, vibrating violently as the chains binding the figure began to glow faintly.

Rui's silver eyes flared brighter as he instinctively raised his hands, his aura wrapping tightly around his frame like silken armor.

"Are you... a god?," Rui said softly. 

The weeping continued, louder now, reverberating in the bones of the earth and in the mana threads suspended in the air. The figure seemed to grow larger, its towering form looming over Rui like a monolith carved from grief and shadow.

"A god? A god… Yes, perhaps once. Perhaps still. What is a god but a weight that can never be lifted? A title given to a being trapped by eternity."

The figure's chained hands trembled slightly, faint wisps of shadow peeling away from the glowing runes etched into the bindings. Rui's sharp eyes caught the faint flicker of something—regret—in the way the chains pulsed softly with pale light.

"Why are you here?" Rui pressed, his voice cutting through the suffocating air like a blade. "What is this place? What happened to you?"

The shadows stirred violently, whipping outward in chaotic arcs before folding back into themselves. The weight of the presence intensified, pressing Rui down until his knees buckled slightly. His aura flared outward, silvery threads wrapping protectively around him, but it felt fragile—delicate—against the immensity pressing down on him.

"You ask questions… questions with no answers. Or perhaps, answers you are not prepared to hear. I am here because this is where they left me. Where he left me."

Rui's brows furrowed as he processed the words. The figure spoke with fractured clarity, its words carrying the weight of ages, heavy with echoes of suffering and abandonment.

"Who left you here? Who sealed you away?"

For a moment, the shadows recoiled slightly, as if retreating inward. The glow from the chains binding the figure pulsed brighter, and the faint sound of something cracking reverberated through the cavern.

"A figure cloaked in light and shadow. A figure who spoke of salvation and balance. A figure who bound me here… so that I may weep for eternity."

The realization struck Rui like a physical blow. The visions he had seen in the Titan's memories—the cloaked figure, the light, the runes—it was all connected. Whatever had sealed the Titan had also sealed this being.

Rui took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling steadily despite the crushing weight pressing against him.

"And… what happens if you're released? What happens if the chains binding you are broken?"

The weeping stopped again.

The figure's head tilted downward slightly, its hollow face seeming to focus directly on Rui. The darkness around its form seemed to contract inward, like breath drawn into vast lungs.

"If I am released, child of fleeting light… grief will spill forth. A flood that drowns hope, smothers courage, and leaves nothing but stillness in its wake."

The mana threads in the air vibrated violently, and Rui's heart pounded against his chest. The chains binding the figure began to glow brighter, and faint cracks spiderwebbed across their surface, pulsing faintly with unstable energy.

Rui's mind raced as he processed the weight of those words.

"But child…" the figure continued, its voice softer now, almost mournful, "it does not matter. Whether by accident or intent, these chains… they weaken. This seal… it fractures. And soon, I will be free. Whether you wish it or not."

A chill ran down Rui's spine as the words sank in. His silver eyes narrowed sharply as he straightened his posture, his aura flaring subtly but deliberately—a shield of light against the encroaching darkness.

"No," Rui said firmly, his voice cutting through the suffocating stillness. "That won't happen. I won't let it happen."

The weeping returned—soft, hollow, and echoing endlessly into the void. The chains rattled, and faint tremors pulsed through the ground beneath Rui's feet.

"You would stop me? A child of fleeting light, standing against eternity itself? Such… resolve."

For the briefest moment, Rui could feel something shift in the shadows—a faint flicker of curiosity, of something else observing him from behind the darkness.

But then, the shadows surged outward, flooding across the stone platform in an unstoppable wave. Rui's aura flared in response, threads of silvery light weaving into protective barriers as the black tide slammed against him with the force of an avalanche.

The ground beneath Rui's feet shattered, stone fragments flying outward as the collision sent ripples of force through the cavern. Rui's boots skidded across the broken ground as he pushed against the flood of shadows, his silver eyes blazing with unyielding focus.

"Child of fleeting light… let us see if you can bear the weight of sorrow!"

The shadows recoiled briefly before snapping forward again, forming jagged claws of black energy that reached toward Rui with terrifying speed.

Rui's body moved instinctively, his reflexes sharpened by weeks of relentless training. He twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding one claw, then raised his hand, mana threads coiling into a sharp crescent arc that slashed through another incoming strike.

The God of Grief—or whatever this being was—seemed to breathe with each exchange, the shadows rippling outward like shockwaves as it continued to press down on Rui with relentless force.

But Rui wasn't breaking.

His aura pulsed brighter, silvery light spreading outward in deliberate patterns across the fractured stone floor. His hands moved with precision, guiding threads of mana into carefully formed barriers and counterstrikes.

Yet the weight—the grief—never stopped pressing down on him. Every strike, every motion, felt like pushing against a tidal wave made of despair itself.

The shadows coiled backward briefly, gathering into a singular mass before lunging forward in one devastating surge. Rui's silver eyes widened, and his aura erupted outward in response, silvery light colliding with absolute darkness in a blinding flash.

For a brief moment, everything went silent.

When the light faded, Rui stood at the edge of the platform, his chest heaving, sweat dripping from his brow. The shadows had recoiled slightly, their form retreating into the void like liquid smoke.

But the God was still there—unchanged, unbroken, and watching him.

"You endure, child of fleeting light. You endure… but for how long?"

The weeping began again, louder this time, reverberating through the cavern walls like the tolling of a distant funeral bell.

Rui's silver eyes narrowed, his shoulders squaring as he prepared for whatever came next.

The battle was far from over.