Godslayer's Legacy: THE PATH TO SUPREMACY

The faint hum of the airship's stabilizers droned steadily as dawn's golden light bled across the fractured sky. The Abyssal Scar stretched below like a raw wound carved into the flesh of the world, a place where reality itself seemed to tremble in fragile silence.

Inside the medical bay, Rui sat upright on the crystalline slab, his silver eyes staring into the faint glow of his diagnostic glyphs. The flickering threads of light within his veins had steadied into faint, fragile lines—no longer chaotic, but still undeniably unstable.

Kovar stood a few paces away, his glass dome glowing softly with cascading amber light as streams of data scrolled across his peripheral vision. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his posture stiff, guarded—like he was watching something sacred and volatile in equal measure.

"You're… upright," Kovar said, his voice faint with disbelief.

Rui glanced up, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his pale lips. "Wasn't exactly planning to stay down forever."

Kovar let out a sharp exhale, the tension in his shoulders easing—slightly. "That's not what I meant, Rui. Your readings… your core integrity… it shouldn't be possible."

He gestured vaguely to the diagnostic glyphs hovering above Rui.

"By all logic, you shouldn't be awake, let alone upright. Your body was on the verge of collapse mere hours ago."

Rui tilted his head slightly, staring down at his trembling hands. The faint glow of silver threads still danced beneath his pale skin, fragile yet undeniably alive.

"It feels… different now," Rui murmured. "Like something's holding me together. Like there's a thread—no, a tether—that won't let me fall apart."

Kovar's glass dome flickered faintly with static lines of data. The image of the golden thread flashed briefly in his mind—a gift left behind by something far beyond either of their comprehension.

"The god did something to you," Kovar said, his voice quieter now, reverent even. "It's not just the serums, Rui. It's not even your talent or your… stubborn willpower. Whatever they did—it's holding your core together in ways I can't begin to explain."

Rui's gaze flickered to Kovar, something sharp and knowing passing through his silver eyes. "I felt it," he said softly. "When I woke up. Like someone was… watching. Holding me upright."

A silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken weight.

Kovar cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. "We can't stay here forever. The Scar is stable—for now—but the airship's reserves are depleting. We need to return to the capital. The council needs to hear about what happened here."

Rui's expression darkened slightly, his eyes drifting toward the faint glow of dawn spilling through the viewport. "And what happens when they hear about this? About… me?"

Kovar didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned to the terminal embedded in the bay wall, flicking through layers of data. "They'll have questions. Questions we might not have answers to. But one thing is certain: you've changed the course of this world, Rui. Whether you meant to or not."

The boy let out a faint breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as he stared at his hands once more.

After a long pause, Rui spoke, his voice quiet but steady. "Then let's go. Whatever happens next… I'll face it."

---

The airship cut through the dawn sky, leaving the Abyssal Scar behind as a faint shadow on the distant horizon. The stabilizers hummed steadily, their glow casting faint reflections along the reinforced glass panels lining the observation deck.

Rui stood near the viewport, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared out into the endless expanse of sky and scattered clouds. His reflection stared back at him—tired, pale, but alive. The faint glow of silver veins still traced delicate patterns across his neck and arms, flickering faintly with every heartbeat.

Kovar approached quietly, his glass dome dimmed to a faint amber glow. "We'll reach the capital in about sixteen hours. The council will be waiting for us."

Rui nodded faintly but didn't turn away from the glass.

"Kovar…" Rui's voice was quiet, hesitant. "What was it?"

The question hung in the air. Kovar's dome flickered faintly as he processed Rui's words.

"The thing I fought down there," Rui continued, his voice steadier now. "What was it?"

Kovar hesitated. He had been dreading this question, mostly because he didn't have an answer.

"I don't know," Kovar admitted finally, his voice low. "It wasn't… normal. It wasn't just some creature, Rui. It wasn't even just mana or shadow. That thing was—"

"A god, the "God of Grief"," Rui said softly.

Kovar's dome flared briefly. "A lesser one, perhaps. But… yes. I think it was the god you say. And that terrifies me, Rui, because gods aren't supposed to die. Not like that."

Rui turned to face Kovar fully, his silver eyes sharp and clear. "But it did. I killed it."

Kovar's voice caught faintly in his throat. "Yes… you did."

A silence settled between them. Rui turned back to the sky, his hands tightening slightly around his arms.

---

"And the one who healed me… the one on the ship…" Rui said slowly, his voice careful. "What was he?"

Kovar's gloved fingers twitched faintly. "Something far above us, Rui. Far above everything we know. That god wasn't like the one you fought. It wasn't malevolent, or desperate, or angry. It was…"

"Calm," Rui finished. "Measured."

"Yes," Kovar agreed softly. "But make no mistake, Rui—it wasn't here for us. It was here for you."

The weight of those words pressed against both of them. Rui swallowed hard, his silver eyes flickering with faint certainty, like he knew more than he let on.

"What happens to me now, Kovar?" Rui asked quietly.

Kovar sighed, leaning against the railing beside Rui. "You heal. You recover. And then… we figure out what the hell comes next."

Rui nodded faintly, his gaze returning to the sky...