The voice grew more and more sinister the closer Elios got to whatever lay at the end of the dark room. His body moved—but it was no longer his. A force, something incomprehensible yet undeniably present, had wrapped itself around him, threading its influence through his limbs like marionette strings.
And he couldn't stop it.
I'm still here. I exist. I think.
Yet even as the words echoed in his mind, they felt distant—hollow, as though he were whispering them from behind layers of glass.
Deep within his mind, he sensed himself—his true self—trapped, small, fragile. He was like a bird in a cage, battering against unseen walls, powerless against the force overwhelming him.
At first, he mistook this sensation for strength. For power.
But the deeper he sank into it, the more wrong it felt.
This isn't mine. This isn't me.
Something else was inside him, stretching its fingers through the gaps of his soul, prying him apart at the seams.
He had felt weak before—but that weakness had been his own. Something human. Something real.
Now, he felt empty. Hollow. A thing masquerading as a man.
His humanity—the last, frail thing tethering him to himself—was being stripped from him, piece by piece.
And I can't stop it.
No matter how much he fought, how much he clawed at the walls of his mind, he couldn't stop it.
And he hated it.
Hate clouded his thoughts, thick and suffocating. His self-loathing twisted into wrath—a primal, mindless wrath.
He was not Elios anymore. He was rage itself—pure and consuming.
A prisoner in his own mind. Unknown to life. Unknown to death.
A beast that knew nothing but fury.
His body was mere steps from the farthest wall, shrouded in suffocating darkness. Yet, even as his mind raged, another voice—a mechanical, sterile tone—echoed in his consciousness.
[Protocol Reemergence has been activated.]
[Unleashing the Dragon Path upon the world once more.]
[Ancient malware detected within Ascender Elios.]
[Commencing process of liberation.]
And just like that—everything vanished.
The hatred. The fury. The suffocating wrath that had drowned his thoughts—it was gone.
The shame he felt for his weakness.
The rage at himself for failing those he loved.
The fury that had come from being controlled.
All of it disappeared.
The cage shattered, and suddenly—he was falling.
For the first time in what felt like eternity, he was free.
Light surged through his mind, flooding his senses. His body halted abruptly.
And then—he collapsed.
Where am I?
The last thing Elios remembered—he wasn't himself anymore.
A horrifying realization. The feeling of being erased.
That terror had gripped him even more than the abominations, more than the ruins, more than the gods' silence.
But now…
This place… It feels untouched by corruption. By ruin.
He stood upon clouds, their surface solid beneath his feet, yet undeniably ethereal. Before him stretched a golden staircase, spiraling endlessly upward. Yet, despite its infinite ascent, he could clearly see what lay at its peak—a throne.
A golden throne, forged from shimmering dragon scales, radiating divine light.
Something stirred in his chest—a feeling he couldn't quite name. It was not fear.
Not quite hope, either.
But something old—something waiting.
Around him, he sensed more. A presence beyond the clouds. Yet, when he tried to see—to comprehend—his vision faltered. A literal wall of clouds barred his sight, impenetrable no matter how hard he strained to peer through them.
The realization sent a cold shudder through him.
Again, I'm too weak.
Even here, in this untouched place, that truth followed him.
Through the narrow gaps between the clouds, he caught glimpses of azure-blue skies, stretching endlessly beyond. But then—instinct urged him to look down.
And there—beneath the clouds that held him—he saw another world.
A shattered sky, tainted blood-red.
A broken moon, split in half—bleeding.
The sight clawed at something deep in his chest.
It reminded him—too much—of the child he had buried. The boy whose tiny frame he had cradled—only half intact.
Only half remained.
The rest—a bleeding stump.
The weight of that memory crashed into him, leaving him breathless.
I don't want to lose myself. I can't.
If he became something less than human, if he became something else, would there even be anything left of him?
Would he—would Elios—still exist?
Or would he simply be another remnant of the ruined world?
And then—the mechanical voice returned.
[Confusion has been detected within Ascender Elios.]
[Brief explanation shall be provided.]
[Ascender Elios has activated Ancient Protocol Reemergence due to contact with the remnant seal of the Paths, cast by the gods. Having been controlled by the Path of Sin, he has unleashed the seal—allowing the Paths to interact with the world once more.]
[The place in which Ascender Elios currently resides is his Inner Realm. All who follow the Realm may achieve divinity—or corruption.]
The words settled into him—heavy, inescapable.
His Inner Realm.
Just as the ancient manuscripts described.
Every priest had access to two sacred texts—writings from a time humanity had forgotten. They spoke of these Paths, but they were nothing more than myths.
Or so he had believed.
His breath trembled, cold sweat trickling down his spine.
And then—barely above a whisper—his voice drifted into the air.
"What horrors have I unleashed upon this world?"