The red moon faded slowly, leaving streaks of dying light across the city's towers.
Smoke hung in the air. Bells rang. Soldiers shouted.
Eryndor — the city of gods — was now a city of fear.
The Voice of Order's defeat had torn something loose inside the people.
Faith had cracked.
And cracks spread fast.
We moved through the back alleys — Lirya leading, me silent.
Her cloak fluttered against the cobblestones, gray fabric turning silver in the moonlight.
Behind us, the sound of marching boots grew louder — the Church Guards hunting.
Every corner we turned, the air shimmered faintly. Mana signatures — tracking spells.
I could see them before they formed.
Not because of instinct.
Because of sight.
When I looked at the world now, it wasn't color or shape.
It was threads — millions of them.
Every sound, movement, breath… all connected by invisible lines of mana, twisting and pulsing in perfect patterns.
The Six Eyes of Infinity.
I could read everything.
The density of mana in a stone. The vibration of a heart across a wall. The curvature of sound itself.
It wasn't sight anymore.
It was truth.
[Six Eyes — Integration Complete.]
"Perception beyond the divine. The ability to read infinity without breaking."
Lirya noticed the glow leaking from my eyes and stopped mid-step.
"Rin… your eyes."
"They've always been like this," I said quietly, "I just never saw the world properly."
She looked uneasy. "People will notice. The Six-Eyed curse is a myth here — only gods or monsters have them."
I smirked faintly. "Then maybe I'm both."
The alley opened into the Lower Quarter, a world beneath the marble streets — stone bridges, dripping pipes, smoke rising from iron grates.
This was where Eryndor hid its sins.
No prayers. No banners. Just the clatter of deals and the smell of blood.
The hunters' market.
Men and women in patchwork armor leaned against walls, eyes sharp with hunger.
Weapons traded hands like currency. Souls too, sometimes.
A tavern glowed faintly ahead — its sign flickering:
"The Hollow Coin."
We entered. The noise dulled. Every head turned.
People here recognized power by instinct, not rumor.
The moment they saw my blue eyes glowing faintly beneath the hood, the air changed — a predator's silence.
A woman with red tattoos behind the counter tilted her head. "Never seen you before, stranger. You hiding from gods, or hunting one?"
"Both," I said, sitting down. "Depends who pays better."
A few chuckles rippled through the room.
But one man didn't laugh — a tall hunter with bronze skin and silver chains on his coat.
He rose slowly, his aura thick and hot, like molten metal.
"You're the one who broke the sky," he said. "The priests put a bounty on your head so high it could feed this whole district."
He smiled, showing a broken tooth. "Lucky for me, I don't pray."
He moved before anyone else did — fast.
The table cracked under his boot. A blade of condensed mana sliced through the air, shimmering gold.
I didn't move.
Didn't need to.
My eyes read the attack before it happened — the trajectory, force, vibration.
A million outcomes unfolded in my vision like glass diagrams.
One breath. One choice.
Space bent.
The blade froze mid-swing, locked between us like time itself had stopped.
The hunter's grin vanished. "What—"
I flicked my finger.
The air snapped.
The man flew backward, crashing into the wall. The impact rippled through the tavern like thunder.
Silence fell again — heavier this time.
I stood, brushing dust from my coat.
"Anyone else hungry for miracles?"
No one spoke. No one moved.
Lirya sighed behind me. "You really don't care about staying hidden, do you?"
"I'm done hiding," I said. "Let them find me."
She lowered her hood, blue eyes glinting faintly in the dim light. "Then you'll need allies. The hunters won't stay quiet for long."
"Then we'll give them a reason not to fight."
"How?"
I looked out the window — toward the glowing towers of the Church far above the slums.
"By showing them what real power looks like."
Outside, the streets of Eryndor pulsed with chaos.
The Church had raised banners of war.
Every corner glowed with Arcanum circles — blue, gold, and red sigils marking mages preparing for divine assault.
But the people whispered something different.
Not prayers — names.
"The man with the Six Eyes…"
"The one who sees the gods…"
"The Infinite."
Rumor had already replaced fear.
And in the Sanctum far above the clouds, seven thrones stirred — the Divinities of Order, watching through the crimson moon.
"He sees us," one whispered.
"Then blind him," said another.
"If you can," murmured the oldest.
That night, as I sat by the window of the Hollow Coin, the world stretched before my eyes like a living map — every thread glowing faintly, every heartbeat a flicker of light.
I saw everything.
And for the first time, I realized something terrifying.
There were more of me.
Faint signatures scattered across the continent — fragments, reflections.
Other bearers of the Limit.
[System Notice]
Multiple Limit Hosts Detected.
Initiating Synchronization Protocol.]
I blinked. The lights in my vision multiplied.
Cities. Oceans. Skies.
Each one pulsing like another soul staring back at me from across infinity.
Lirya looked at me sharply. "Rin… what's wrong?"
I smiled faintly, eyes glowing like twin galaxies.
"Nothing."
Then quieter —
"Everything.