The term "Hub of Defiance" emerged from the collective intention of several deities to enter a hub, aiming to reap its benefits while emerging unharmed. However, this ostensibly benign natural hub inexplicably ignited conflict among them, resulting in the loss of all their lives. Since that tragic event, even deities have harbored a profound fear of these natural hubs, as they unpredictably sow discord and claim lives, defying even the foresight of those who can pinpoint their locations.
As was customary, the blame fell upon the Defyers for the drastic outcome, and only after exhaustive research, the triplets discovered the gods had assumed cooperation was necessary due to a single thread extending after the hub. Thus, they agreed before entering the hub. Yet, once inside, they found themselves vying for the same treasure, essential for surpassing their respective thresholds.
A solitary treasure amidst multiple threads sparked a lethal conflict, leaving only one soldier standing, whose victory soon succumbed to despair. Any hub featuring a solitary thread earned the ominous title of "Thread of Defiance." Resembling the indomitable nature of a Defyer, this thread proved impervious to manipulation or circumvention. Compounding the challenge, only one escape route, tailored for a single thread, exists. At times, these hubs were found sealed, resulting in the annihilation of every thread within.
After some consideration, Lachesis adds, "Every escape increases his likelihood of reaching the latter one."
"How many more?" Atropos inquired, her voice tinged with fear.
"Fourteen… the last time I counted."
"So many! Now I feel sorry for the poor fellow."
"You won't feel that way once he defies all odds and ignites the hub of defiance to life."
"We should lend our assistance to the Dandralith," Clotho suggested.
"Do you know nothing?" Lachesis lashed out at Clotho.
Atropos intervened, halting Lachesis and diffusing the tension. "The more we intervene, the broader his escape route becomes," Atropos whispered to Clotho. "The system won't permit any drastic actions, and I suspect the other gods have already taken their steps. Remember, Adam is involved."
"That bastard somehow diminished the Defyer's odds," Lachesis gritted her teeth in frustration.
"Instead of just bickering and waiting for doomsday, is there anything we can do?" Both turned to Lachesis, knowing she was the one who foresaw the end.
Lachesis mulled over the implications for a moment before responding. "We must locate the Defyer's sole bond..." She hesitated, wary of revealing anything that could imperil the multiverse. Detecting no fluctuations within the thread, she divulged the name. "Kœl."
As soon as the name left her lips, three threads zipped past the triplets, linking them to the thread of defiance and the ultimate Hub of Defiance.
"Who... is... that...?" The triplets spoke simultaneously, each word drawn out by the terror gripping them.
"It shrouded its thread from a commandment! That's... impossible...!"
— — —<>|*|<>— — —
[Ding! Title: Harbinger of Doom: Effect 1: Shroud of the Primordials.]
"What? Why?" Tetsu gaped at the hulking tree. "I mean, thanks... but why?"
The tree shrugged and continued its attack. "Human confused why attack? This ground is for attacking, right?" It questioned itself, halting mid-swing, and the huge rubble its roots had scooped up fell on top of it, burying it alive.
Tetsu shook himself awake and discovered a small mountain of rubble where the monstrous tree had stood just minutes ago. "These trails are so weird. Mountains keep popping in and out of existence," he muttered to himself, cautiously retreating. "Now, where the heck did that tree go?"
— — —<>|*|<>— — —
Deep within the cosmos, a fist slammed into the wall, obliterating half of the castle to which the wall was connected.
On cue, the entire Order sprang into action: Civilians were escorted to safety, while the elite seamlessly transformed their casual attire into armor, encircling the castle in an instant. Various skills were activated and aimed towards the castle. The intensity of the attack surged as they held their positions, yet they waited for the dust to settle before proceeding further.
With a flick of his wrist, Adam dispelled the dust, making it vanish as if it had never existed. Angel rushed toward him, but he shoved her aside, instructing her and the others to stay away. His gaze bore deep into a [Hub], his eyes narrowing at the intruding three threads, rendering his efforts thus far futile. Hunting down and eliminating those three threads would have to wait; he had ample time for that, while limited time remained for the mortals' Hub of Defiance.
"A clash between a Thread & Hub of Defiance."
— — —<>|*|<>— — —
The escape route shone with newfound intensity, captivating Tetsu's attention as he contemplated its sudden prominence. Almost hesitating, he pondered over a single question before slipping away: Where did that tree vanish to? Yet, as his fangs descended, another thought emerged. Can I consume a tree?
"Not much of a veggie, but I guess a healthy diet is important," he mused, agreeing with himself as he added dead trees to the list of groceries.
As Tetsu wandered, hoping he drew nearer to his ultimate destination, he pondered whether he had encountered the time god. While every other concept of science has to be rewritten, the notion of gods manipulating time felt more than plausible, and provoking such a deity to become ensnared in a never-ending loop seemed even more so. Yet, he trusted the system to continue meddling until he broke free. Before that, however, he resolved to master every conceivable skill, whether it be to run like the wind or vanish like a chicken's shadow.
Here, by "disappear like a chicken's shadow," he meant an actual chicken, not your ordinary farmyard bird, but a moving blob of darkness, a creature darker than any hue of black. Its feathers shed and regenerated with an eerie dance as if it could leap into one and emerge from another.
Tetsu only noticed it due to the black feathers it continually shed. These feathers never strayed far from its side, and on occasion, it pecked the ground to catch a dinosaur in the sky—an actual small flying dinosaur.
He dubbed it a chicken solely based on its movement which dittoed that of a chicken. It could also be his cravings, but he swore the mysterious bird looked like a chicken cloaked in shadows.
The most effective means of disappearing is to vanish without a trace, and what better method than spatial jumps? To his dismay, the feathers never remained active for long. The chicken shed them liberally as if it had an abundance to spare, but Tetsu never approached the feathers until the chicken moved farther away. Each time he waited too long, they disappeared without a trace. This didn't mean he picked up the pace. Caution always took precedence. This was doubly true, especially since even [Info] passed through the enigmatic chicken as if it were an illusion.
"Wait! Does Info work on illusions?" Tetsu scratched his chin, then dismissed the idea. The only way to ascertain the truth was to verify an illusion, and then use [Info] on it.
The chicken's feathers either had a time limit after being shed or a limited range before they disappeared. Tetsu also assumed the feathers reattached themselves to the chicken rather than simply dissolving into nothingness.
The timer to the incubation grounds had already started, compelling him to act. Yet, what good is a chicken to a dead guy? Tetsu sighed and distanced himself from the chicken. Finding such a species might be a rare stroke of luck, but the risks outweighed the gains. With a shrug, he turned away and ventured in a different direction.
"Is undead a thing now? And if it is… Can I still taste stuff?"
In the corner, fifty meters away from Tetsu and concealed behind a set of illusions, a small rat tumbled over its crystal ball, succumbing to exhaustion and collapsing cold. "He is our best warrior?" Another rat snickered at the fatigued soldier. "Despicable."
The [Whisker whales], despite their name, were rat-sized creatures, their whiskers extending twice the size of their bodies. They had a peculiar build, standing at four inches tall, supported by small but robust legs and an equally sturdy body frame. From a distance or up close, Tetsu could have easily mistaken them for fancy rats standing on two legs, who polished their whiskers every chance they got.
"I think the human is peculiar, sire," a general on the prince's right side suggested, striving not to imply any foolishness on his part. "She...!" The general emphasized the word, hoping his Highness would catch his mistake. "...Is our best, sire."
Prince Rasool glared at the general, who quickly bowed. Sensing the need for discretion, the general raised his hands to elevate his whispers, ensuring they didn't reach the group. "Sorry, sire. I suggested—"
"No need to apologize, general," a voice intervened.
The voice belonged to an elderly rat, accompanied by two beautiful does, who held his whiskers high. Everyone turned and fell to their knees, their whiskers forgotten.
"Whiskers sake." The elder rat muttered, smacking his head in frustration.
The others got back up, raising their whiskers with their hands, while their heads still faced the ground.
"I am getting old from repeating myself." The elder rat grumbled.
"You were old since the day I was born, old man." Prince Rasool spat. The older man raised his tiny hand, and Rasool's eyes widened in fear. "Sorry, Gramps," he croaked.
Though Gramps was far away, Rasool felt a hand patting him on the head. A sudden clapping sound drew his attention to the old man, who now sported a sly grin, while the two Does attempted to conceal their embarrassment.
"Why did I even consider bringing him along?" Rasool sighed inwardly.
"And all of you, stop bowing to his whims. I sent that brat here to train." He ordered.
"Yes, Your Highness," they saluted in unison, their whiskers wrapped around one arm.
"Whip his whiskers if necessary, but get him in shape," the elder commanded. Before Rasool could argue, a glare from Grandpa silenced him. "I am retired, so stop calling me your king," he declared, puffing out his chest and attempting to suck in his beer belly. While his whiskers flared with pride, the pose contradicted his statement.
Former king Terrac is two inches shorter than a normal [Whisker Whale]. Their power did not lie in their height, thankfully. The number and length of the whiskers determined the power of a [Whisker], and in [Salazar] no Whisker came close to the might of a single mustache Terrac held.
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