Godslayer's Legacy: THE PATH TO SUPREMACY

The heavy doors of the grand chamber closed with a resonating boom, the finality of the sound echoing in Rui's chest. For several long moments, he and Kovar stood in silence beneath the towering stained glass windows, the light refracting across the polished obsidian floor in scattered hues of gold and violet.

The weight of the council's judgment lingered in the air—a silent pressure neither of them could shake off.

"They're afraid," Rui said quietly, his voice low but firm. His silver eyes, still faintly luminescent, turned toward Kovar. "Afraid of what happened down there… and afraid of me."

Kovar sighed, the amber glow from his glass dome dimming slightly. "Fear is their currency, Rui. They deal in it, weigh it, and distribute it carefully to maintain control. You walked into their hall as an unknown factor—someone they can't predict or understand. Of course they're afraid."

Rui's gaze fell briefly to his hands, faint silver threads still flickering beneath his pale skin. "But they're right, aren't they? I don't fully understand what happened down there either."

Kovar's gloved hand landed lightly on Rui's shoulder. "Understanding will come in time. But right now, we have more immediate concerns."

Rui raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Your core," Kovar said, stepping back and gesturing for Rui to follow. "Whatever happened in the Abyss—it didn't fix you, Rui. It patched you together, kept you functioning. But you're still cracked. And if we're going to figure out what you are now, we need answers about that core..."

---

The stabilization chamber was carved deep into the heart of the Council Citadel, hidden beneath layers of reinforced stone and rune-etched crystal. It wasn't just a room—it was an intricate structure designed to cradle unstable cores, to mend shattered mana flows, and to decipher the impossible.

The air thrummed with mana, thin threads of energy spiraling through conduits that snaked across the walls and ceiling like glowing veins. The chamber's floor was a massive circular platform, covered in runic engravings and surrounded by towering crystalline pillars that pulsed with soft azure light.

Scholars moved with careful precision, their robes whispering as they adjusted controls on hovering diagnostic arrays. Grand Mage Caelren stood at the forefront, his sharp emerald eyes fixed on Rui. His robes, a mixture of deep green and gold, shimmered faintly under the chamber's ethereal light.

Rui stood at the center of the platform, stripped down to a simple tunic, his pale skin almost translucent under the glow of the runes. His silver veins pulsed softly, threading up his neck and disappearing beneath his collar.

Kovar was positioned near the edge of the chamber, his glass dome flickering faintly with amber light as he monitored every flicker of data across the floating arrays.

Caelren raised a hand. "Begin the resonance analysis. Slowly—we don't want to destabilize him further."

A hum filled the chamber as the runes beneath Rui's feet ignited with power, glowing brighter as diagnostic threads extended upward, wrapping around him in intricate patterns of light. They probed his core cautiously, as though afraid that even the gentlest touch might shatter him entirely.

Above Rui, a crystalline hologram began to form—a perfect representation of his mana core.

The chamber went silent as the image came into focus.

The core was fractured—massive cracks spiderwebbed through its surface, glowing faintly with golden light. Ethereal threads of that same golden energy stretched across the fractures, weaving delicately through the cracks, holding the entire structure together in a fragile balance.

A sharp intake of breath came from one of the scholars.

"Impossible… he shouldn't even be conscious, let alone functional," one whispered, their voice trembling with disbelief.

"The fractures should have resulted in complete mana collapse," another added, their eyes wide with awe.

Rui remained still, his jaw clenched as the diagnostic threads probed deeper, causing faint sparks of golden light to flicker beneath his skin.

Grand Mage Caelren stepped closer, his expression etched with disbelief. "These golden threads… they're not natural. They're acting as an artificial tether, holding the fractures together. But this isn't sustainable—not indefinitely."

Rui flinched slightly as one of the diagnostic threads pressed too deeply, sending a sharp jolt through his chest.

"Enough!" Caelren barked, raising a hand. The diagnostic array froze, the threads retracting instantly. The hologram flickered but remained suspended above Rui, casting fractured golden light across the chamber walls.

---

Rui was taken from the diagnostic chamber to a private recovery chamber—an opulent yet sterile space bathed in faint azure light. Mana conduits lined the walls, and crystalline stabilization artifacts glowed softly on pedestals arranged in geometric precision.

Over the following days, the Council's finest scholars and healers threw every technique they had at Rui's fractured core.

Mana Infusion Rituals: Teams of scholars channeled highly refined mana directly into Rui's core, their hands glowing as intricate runes floated around him. The mana surged through Rui's veins, stabilizing the fractures temporarily—but the golden threads remained unmoved, untouched, as though refusing to integrate with the foreign mana.

Alchemy-Based Stabilization: Rui was given potent elixirs—ancient recipes containing distilled mana essence, dragonroot, and ethereal herbs meant to reinforce mana structures. The elixirs brought fleeting relief, but the golden threads rejected their influence, holding firm against every attempt at reinforcement.

Runic Therapy: Intricate runes were engraved onto Rui's skin using liquid mana-infused ink, glowing softly as they settled into his flesh. These runes were designed to redistribute mana flow, easing the strain on his fractured core. They worked… for a time. But like all the other methods, they didn't address the golden tethers.

Each attempt left Rui more exhausted. His body trembled with fatigue, and faint cracks of golden light occasionally flickered along his veins, like thin fractures in glass.

One evening, as Kovar checked in on him, Rui spoke through heavy breaths. "It's not going to work, is it?"

Kovar's glass dome dimmed faintly, the amber glow within flickering softly. "We're buying time, Rui. Every step counts. But no… it's not going to fix what's holding you together."

Rui leaned back against the plush headrest of his recovery chair, his silver eyes flickering faintly in the low light. "Then what happens when time runs out?"

Kovar had no answer.

---

The days stretched on in cycles of testing, treatment, and recovery. Rui spent long hours alone in his recovery chamber, surrounded by the faint hum of mana conduits and the soft glow of stabilizing crystals.

Kovar visited daily, bringing updates, checking his physical state, and ensuring Rui wasn't slipping into despair.

Scholars entered occasionally with trays of food and softly spoken words of encouragement. But Rui saw the fear in their eyes—the way they flinched slightly when the golden cracks in his veins pulsed with faint light.

At night, Rui's sleep was restless. His dreams were filled with fractured golden rivers, shattered glass stretching endlessly into a void, and faint whispers he couldn't understand.

This core isn't mine, is it? Rui thought during one of his sleepless nights. It's something… given to me. Or forced onto me.

But despite the doubt, the exhaustion, and the ache deep in his chest, Rui endured.

---

After nearly a week, Rui was summoned back to the stabilization chamber.

This time, Grand Mage Caelren looked more composed, though deep tension crackled in his emerald gaze. The chamber had been refined, with more intricate runes etched into the floor and conduits reinforced with additional crystalline threads.

Caelren gestured to the diagnostic platform. "This is it, Rui. One final analysis. The core has stabilized as much as it can. We have done everything in our power and now, we can see the truth of what lies beneath."

Rui stepped onto the platform, his shoulders squared despite the faint tremor in his hands.

The diagnostic arrays flared to life once more, and golden threads began to glow within his chest. They shimmered, weaving tighter into the fractures as if responding to the probing light.

The holographic projection stabilized above him—clearer and sharper than before.

The chamber was utterly silent.

Floating in the air above Rui was a core unlike anything the scholars had ever seen—an iridescent swirl of golden light, shifting like liquid metal and refracting every color imaginable. Its fractured edges gleamed faintly, yet the threads of golden energy binding it together pulsed with infinite vitality.

A stunned hush settled over the chamber. Some scholars instinctively stepped back; one even fell to their knees.

Caelren's voice came as a whisper, trembling with reverence and disbelief. "A… Primordial Core. And it's still fractured. How is he even alive?"

Rui stared up at the image of his core, his silver eyes reflecting the rainbow light cascading from it. Deep in his chest, the golden tether pulsed—steady, unyielding.

"Because something… or someone… doesn't want me to fall apart."