The weight of the Grimoire of Avalon still lingered on my fingertips as I left the Forbidden Library with Zeke. The words on that final page echoed in my mind, like a warning and an invitation all at once. My head spun, not just from the sheer magnitude of what we'd uncovered, but because of the underlying truth it revealed—one I could no longer ignore.
I was, at my core, a Bastard Vessel of Fate.
The power that surged within me, the ability to change and manipulate fate, wasn't natural. It wasn't something I was born with, nor something I earned. It was given to me—a gift, perhaps, but more likely a curse. And with every passing moment, I was becoming less certain about who was truly in control—me, or the fate scripts guiding my every step.
As Zeke and I stepped out of the hidden corridors beneath Valorian Castle, the cool night air was a jarring contrast to the thick, oppressive atmosphere of the library. The stars hung low in the sky, but their light seemed dimmer tonight, as though even they knew what I was about to do.
"What now?" Zeke asked, his voice laced with excitement and something more—something darker. "You've got the knowledge. You've got the power. What's your next move?"
I didn't respond immediately. My mind raced, replaying the moments when I'd used my fate script before. The first time was an act of desperation, to save my life when death seemed inevitable. The second time, I had used it to alter the course of events to protect Zeke and myself from danger. Each time, it had worked—but with a price.
And I had no idea what that price truly was.
My hand twitched as the thought of using the fate script again surfaced. The temptation was growing stronger, the pull undeniable. It was as if the very power within me was urging me to use it, whispering promises of control, of dominance over the unseen forces of the universe.
But that's what terrified me the most.
"You've been quiet since we left the library," Zeke observed, studying me closely. "This fate power of yours… it's not just some magic trick, is it? It's something deeper. You're more tied to this world than you even realize."
I met his gaze, my voice low. "It's not about being tied to the world, Zeke. It's about being tied to fate itself. And I don't know if I'm controlling it, or if it's controlling me."
Zeke raised an eyebrow. "Controlling you? You saved your life with it, didn't you? You've used it to protect both of us. Why stop now?"
I clenched my fists, the weight of my choices bearing down on me. "Because each time I use it, I feel… less like myself. Like I'm being rewritten with every command. It's like I'm a puppet, with strings I can't see."
Zeke's expression darkened. "Or maybe you're just afraid of what you can become."
His words hit hard, but before I could respond, the ground beneath us trembled violently. A powerful gust of wind tore through the castle grounds, rattling the trees and sending debris flying. My instincts flared, and I knew—something was coming.
No, something was here.
Out of the darkness, a figure emerged, cloaked in shadows but with an unmistakable presence. His eyes gleamed with an unsettling light as he approached, his aura pulsing with raw energy.
"Who are you?" I demanded, stepping forward, instinctively placing myself between Zeke and the newcomer.
The figure stopped a few feet away, his voice calm but dripping with malice. "I've been watching you, Ryuji. Watching as you tamper with forces beyond your understanding."
My heart raced. "What do you want?"
"Your fate," the man replied simply. "You've been playing with powers you don't comprehend. Fate is not yours to manipulate."
I narrowed my eyes, my mind already racing through the possibilities. Who was he? Another agent of fate, here to punish me for defying the scripts? Or worse, someone sent to reclaim the power I had been borrowing?
"I don't care who you are," I said, forcing confidence into my voice. "I'll protect what's mine, even if it means using this power."
The man chuckled darkly. "Oh, I'm counting on it."
Before I could react, he raised his hand, and the air around me warped. Reality itself bent, as though the world was being reshaped by an unseen force. I felt an immense pressure building, threatening to crush me from all sides.
Zeke shouted something, but his voice was drowned out by the growing cacophony. My vision blurred, and I knew—this was it. I had no choice. If I didn't act now, I wouldn't survive this attack.
[Fate Script Activated]
Command: Survive.
The moment the words flashed in my mind, everything changed. Time slowed, the pressure around me dissipated, and the world shifted once more. The man's attack faltered, his smug expression replaced by one of confusion.
But something was wrong.
I could feel it—deep inside. This time, the fate script wasn't responding the way it had before. The power coursing through me was different, more chaotic, more violent. It wasn't just rewriting the moment; it was rewriting me.
My body trembled as the energy surged through me, and I gasped, clutching my chest. The fate script had done its job—I had survived—but at what cost?
Zeke rushed to my side, his face pale with concern. "Ryuji! Are you okay?"
I staggered, barely able to stand. "I… I don't know. Something's wrong."
The man in the shadows sneered, his eyes narrowing. "So, you are the bastard vessel after all. The one who dares to wield fate's power without paying its price."
"What are you talking about?" I demanded, though my voice was weaker now, strained.
"You think fate allows itself to be rewritten so easily? No, Ryuji. Each time you tamper with it, a piece of you is lost. A piece you can never get back."
I wanted to deny it, to tell him he was wrong, but I couldn't. Deep down, I knew he was right. The price of using the fate script was real, and it was growing steeper with each use.
I was becoming a vessel, not for my own fate, but for something far more dangerous.
"You'll come to understand soon enough," the man said, his voice cold and final. "The power you wield is not yours—it's fate's. And fate will always demand its due."
With that, he vanished, leaving Zeke and me alone in the eerie stillness of the night. My mind was racing, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Zeke helped me to my feet, his expression serious. "You can't keep using that power, Ryuji. It's changing you. You're not just rewriting fate—you're rewriting yourself."
I nodded, though I wasn't sure if I could stop. The temptation to use the fate script was too strong, the allure of controlling my own destiny too seductive.
But deep down, I knew the truth.
I wasn't controlling my fate.
Fate was controlling me.