A long, weary sigh escaped Xion's lips.
The carriage rolled away from Blackband at an unhurried pace, its wheels rattling softly over the road as morning sunlight gradually spread across the city. Golden light washed over rooftops, chimneys, and narrow streets. Xion sat by the window and watched in silence as Blackband drifted past him piece by piece—busy storefronts preparing for the day, merchants arranging goods beneath striped awnings, and children racing through the streets before their parents could call them back.
His hand tightened around the pendant resting against his chest.
Blue and white chains wrapped around a small red prism that glowed faintly, like a captured ember refusing to fade.
A piece of home.
A reminder that, despite everything he had learned, far too many questions remained unanswered.
"You seem to have enjoyed life there."
Sean's voice broke through the quiet.
Xion's eyelid twitched.
Sean Lados possessed a remarkable talent for interrupting reflective moments at exactly the wrong time.
Rather than answer, Xion leaned back against his seat and closed his eyes.
The world still felt wrong.
The Astra Continent he remembered from the story was supposed to be relatively peaceful. Nations competed through commerce, diplomacy, religion, and political maneuvering. Conflicts existed, certainly, but they rarely escalated into continent-spanning wars.
Yet reality no longer matched those memories.
The War of Liberation existed.
The Southern Kingdom's slave trade had expanded far beyond what it should have.
The Cathedral of Sacred Wisdom moved agents openly across the continent with unsettling confidence.
His fingers brushed the red prism again.
Could it be because of me?
The thought had visited him more than once.
His survival alone had altered events. Every decision created ripples, and ripples had a tendency to spread farther than anyone expected.
Before the thought could settle too deeply, Venus reached over and lightly tapped his shoulder.
"Xion?"
He opened one eye.
She sat beside him with silver hair draped over one shoulder, concern softening her expression.
"Is everything all right?" she asked. "You look anxious."
Xion let out a small chuckle.
"Hehe… really?"
"It's nothing. I'm probably just nervous about what's going to happen to me over the next few years."
Venus smiled.
It was the sort of smile an older sister gave when humoring an obvious lie.
Xion's gaze drifted downward.
Toward her collar.
"Venus."
"Hm?"
"Who gave you that scar?"
The atmosphere inside the carriage changed immediately.
Venus's smile froze.
Sean looked over at once.
Slowly, Venus raised a hand to her collar.
She had hidden the marks carefully. Makeup concealed the discoloration. Powder softened the edges. Mana disguised what remained. To nearly everyone who looked at her, her skin appeared flawless.
Yet Xion knew the scars were there.
Venus stared at him.
How did he know?
Sean studied the boy without speaking.
This child…
His analytical ability is abnormal.
Xion met Venus's gaze calmly.
That somehow made the question harder to ignore.
After several seconds, Venus sighed.
"Fine," she said quietly. "You win."
Xion waited.
"The one who gave me those scars was—"
The carriage lurched.
The sudden movement interrupted her.
Outside, horses neighed.
The driver shouted something.
Sean was already turning toward the window.
The carriage had stopped before Blackband Train Station.
Iron arches rose above crowds moving through drifting steam and lingering morning fog. Merchants hauled carts loaded with goods. Conductors barked orders across the platforms. Somewhere deeper within the station, engines hissed and rumbled like enormous sleeping beasts.
"I thought we were taking a ship back to the capital," Xion said.
Sean opened the carriage door.
"We were. But Southern Kingdom spies have been watching the docks since dawn. The train gives us a better chance of losing any pursuit."
Xion stepped out.
The moment his feet touched the ground, his senses sharpened.
Mana flowed throughout the station in shifting colors visible only to him.
It was a side effect of Clock, the first Array of the False God Pathway—a pathway built around contradictions, stolen legitimacy, impossible identities, and the ability to perceive flaws in reality itself.
Clock remained incomplete, but even in its current state it heightened perception to an unnatural degree. Details others overlooked became impossible for him to ignore. Patterns emerged everywhere. Tiny inconsistencies stood out like cracks in glass.
He closed his eyes.
The station transformed into a sea of color.
Most civilians glowed blue.
Some flickered green with illness, fatigue, or lingering injuries.
Others shone yellow with anxiety or stress.
Different Pathways perceived reality differently.
"Actually," Xion said suddenly, opening his eyes, "I never properly learned about the Pathways."
Venus blinked.
"Now?"
"We have hostile spies around us, an uncertain future, and gods apparently meddling with everything. Seems like the perfect time."
Sean sighed.
"Fair enough. You are a Trinity Candidate. You should know."
As they walked through the station, Venus began explaining.
"The world recognizes twelve Divine Pathways and one forbidden Pathway. Every Divine Pathway leads toward a singular divine throne. Those who reach the highest Array are no longer merely Ascenders. They become the living vessel of that God's Authority."
Xion listened carefully.
Venus opened her grimoire and raised a hand. A translucent symbol formed above her palm—a crown struck by lightning, glowing with pale blue radiance.
"The Tyrant Pathway leads to the throne of the Tyrant God."
The symbol crackled softly with arcs of electricity.
"Its portfolio encompasses storms, oceans, domination, rulership, conquest, and wrath. Tyrants are kings, conquerors, emperors, and calamities. They learn to command both people and nature itself."
Sean nodded.
"Most naval admirals and battlefield commanders favor that Pathway."
The lightning crown dissolved. In its place appeared a translucent black scythe beneath a crescent moon.
"The Abyss Pathway leads to the Reaper God."
A chill seemed to pass through the air.
"It governs death, souls, endings, decay, and oblivion. Those who walk this road eventually become shepherds of souls and guardians of the boundary between life and death."
"The creepy one," Xion muttered.
"Very."
The scythe faded. A golden sun with twelve radiant rays appeared above her fingertips.
"The Solar Pathway belongs to the Sun God."
Warm light illuminated the pages of her grimoire.
"Its portfolio is light, purification, revelation, life, and truth. Solar users burn away corruption and illuminate hidden things. It is one of the most openly revered pathways in the world."
"The Cathedral likes them," Sean added.
"Too much," Venus replied.
The sun dissolved into drifting motes. Silver-gold threads wove themselves together into a translucent hourglass.
"The Fateweaver Pathway belongs to the Oracle God."
The threads shimmered like strands of destiny.
"It governs fate, prophecy, causality, destiny, and time. Fateweavers observe the threads connecting all events. Some can glimpse tomorrow before it exists."
Xion stared.
"That sounds unfair."
"It is."
Venus smiled.
"Which is why Fateweavers tend to die young if they become arrogant."
The hourglass brightened instead of fading.
"Since this is my pathway, I might as well explain what an Array truly means."
The silver-gold threads expanded outward, weaving a miniature web through the air.
"Each Array is not merely a stronger version of the previous one. It is a qualitative transformation. An Ascender gains a new Authority, a new way to interact with the world, and a deeper connection to their pathway's divine portfolio."
The web shifted, countless threads crossing and diverging.
"At lower Arrays, a Fateweaver can sense probabilities, read omens, or glimpse fragments of possible futures. At higher Arrays, those possibilities become tangible. Fate itself becomes something that can be observed, manipulated, and eventually rewritten."
Xion watched the threads carefully.
"And your Ninth Array?"
For the first time, Sean glanced at Venus with visible curiosity.
Venus hesitated briefly before answering.
"My Ninth Array is called Loom of Eternity."
The station around them seemed quieter as the threads above her palm multiplied.
"It allows me to perceive the vast tapestry of causality surrounding a target. Every choice, every consequence, every connection appears as a network of threads. I can trace outcomes backward to discover causes, or forward to see where certain decisions are likely to lead."
Xion's eyes widened.
"That sounds absurd."
"It is."
Venus smiled faintly.
"But that is only the beginning. When a pathway approaches its final Arrays, its Authorities begin ascending toward divinity. Loom of Eternity does not merely observe fate. Under the right circumstances, it allows me to weave new threads into the tapestry."
The silver-gold strands intertwined and formed impossible patterns.
"A dying future can be strengthened. A favorable outcome can be nudged closer. A disastrous chain of events can be weakened before it fully manifests."
Sean let out a low whistle.
"No wonder Fateweavers are feared."
Venus nodded.
"The final Arrays of every pathway are like this. Tyrants cease commanding storms and begin embodying them. Reapers stop guiding souls and gain authority over death itself. Genesis Ascenders move beyond invention and approach true creation."
Her gaze shifted toward Xion.
"The closer one comes to the divine throne, the less they resemble ordinary humans. Arrays are steps toward godhood."
The hourglass finally unraveled.
A closed eye surrounded by tiny stars appeared next.
"The Dreamwalker Pathway belongs to the Visionary God."
The stars drifted lazily around the eye.
"It governs dreams, imagination, memory, thought, and illusion. Dreamwalkers rule the unseen world of the mind. Their greatest Ascenders blur the boundary between dreams and reality."
Sean folded his arms.
"Some historians believe entire kingdoms vanished because a Visionary dreamed them away."
"That is probably an exaggeration."
"Probably."
The eye vanished. A silver crescent surrounded by mist materialized above her palm.
"The Lunar Pathway belongs to the Moon God."
Mist curled around the symbol.
"It governs mystery, transformation, instincts, blood, and secrets. The pathway is associated with change and hidden truths. Many shapeshifters and mystics emerge from it."
"The assassins of the eastern territories love that one," Sean said.
Venus nodded.
The crescent dissolved into silver vapor. A spiral galaxy enclosed within a circle slowly rotated above her hand.
"The Genesis Pathway belongs to the Creator God."
Her expression became reverent.
"It governs creation, invention, possibility, and evolution. Genesis users are makers and innovators. At the highest levels, they gain authority over creation itself."
Xion immediately looked interested.
Sean noticed.
"No."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking it."
Venus laughed softly.
The galaxy faded. A great tree whose roots stretched upward into stars emerged in shimmering green light.
"The Verdant Pathway belongs to the World Tree God."
The symbol pulsed with life.
"It governs life, growth, harmony, nature, and connection. It represents the interconnected web of existence. Its followers nurture life and maintain balance."
"The most beloved Pathway among common people," Sean said.
"Usually."
The tree dissolved. A broken spear crossed with a sword appeared next.
"The Conqueror Pathway belongs to the War God."
A faint martial pressure filled the air.
"It governs battle, courage, conflict, victory, and glory. Conquerors thrive amid warfare and struggle. Every challenge overcome strengthens their authority."
"Tyrants command through force," Sean explained.
"Conquerors command through victory."
Venus nodded.
"Exactly."
The weapons faded. An iron tower surrounded by chains formed above the grimoire.
"The Bastion Pathway belongs to the Warden God."
The symbol felt immovable.
"It governs protection, endurance, barriers, and preservation. Bastion users stand against destruction and become living fortresses."
"The people standing between monsters and civilians," Sean said.
"Most of the time."
The tower vanished. Golden scales suspended in light appeared next.
"The Arbiter Pathway belongs to the Judgment God."
Radiant symbols drifted around the scales.
"It governs law, punishment, contracts, order, and justice. Arbiters enforce the rules that govern reality itself. Criminals, spirits, and even gods fear their authority."
"Terrifying bureaucrats with divine power," Xion summarized.
Sean nodded.
"That is surprisingly accurate."
Venus tried not to laugh.
The scales dissolved. Finally, a golden throne crowned by laurel leaves appeared above her palm.
"The Imperator Pathway belongs to the Sovereign God."
The atmosphere subtly shifted.
"It governs authority, leadership, civilization, and legacy. Imperators are rulers and nation-builders. Their authority grows through influence and dominion."
"The strongest rulers in history came from that Pathway," Sean said.
"Most empires did."
The final symbol faded.
Xion absorbed the information.
Twelve Pathways.
Twelve Divine Portfolios.
Twelve Gods.
Then he frowned.
"And the False God Pathway?"
The smiles vanished from both Sean and Venus.
After several seconds, Sean answered.
"No one truly understands it."
Venus nodded slowly.
"It does not belong to any recognized God. Ancient records describe it as a Pathway that should not exist."
"Helpful."
"I am serious."
Her voice became solemn.
"The False God Pathway governs contradiction, imitation, stolen authority, impossible identities, broken destinies, and anomalies. Unlike other Pathways, its Arrays appear to adapt to the user. It can replicate fragments of other Authorities, perceive inconsistencies, and interfere with established divine systems."
Sean looked directly at Xion.
"Every known record involving the False God Pathway ends badly."
"That is reassuring."
"It was not meant to be."
Venus continued.
"Some texts claim the False God was a being who attempted to seize divinity without possessing a legitimate Portfolio. Others claim it was a forgotten thirteenth god erased from history. A few even suggest it is not a god at all, but a flaw in reality given consciousness."
Xion stared.
"That sounds significantly worse."
"Yes."
"What happens at higher ranks?"
"No one knows," Sean answered.
"Why?"
"Because nobody has ever reached the end."
Silence followed.
Even the station seemed quieter.
Xion glanced down at the red prism hanging from his neck.
The False God Pathway.
The Pathway he possessed.
The Pathway nobody understood.
The Pathway that should not exist.
Then there were the red ones.
Hostility.
Eight.
No.
Nine.
One was masking their presence somehow.
Xion opened his eyes.
"I counted at least nine hostile targets."
Sean and Venus exchanged a glance.
"How certain?" Sean asked.
"Certain enough that if I'm wrong, you can laugh at me after we survive."
"That is not reassuring."
"I wasn't trying to reassure you."
Venus stepped closer.
"Can you tell where they are?"
Xion slowly scanned the station entrance.
"One near the ticket booth."
His gaze shifted.
"Two disguised as porters."
Another pause.
"One by the newspaper stand."
His eyes narrowed.
"One old woman feeding birds who definitely knows how to throw knives."
Sean blinked.
"Two near the left archway."
He looked upward.
"One above us."
Sean followed his gaze.
A man sat on a second-floor balcony reading a newspaper upside down.
"And one I can't locate," Xion added.
"The masked one?" Venus asked.
"Probably."
The moment he said it, the sensation returned.
Not a color.
A location.
A gap.
Like a missing piece in a puzzle his authority insisted should exist.
Sean adjusted his gloves.
"Then we move quickly."
They entered the station.
To ordinary travelers, it was simply another busy morning.
To Xion, it felt like stepping onto a battlefield.
Clock quietly fed him information as they moved through the crowd.
Hidden weapons.
Suspicious glances.
Subtle signals exchanged between watchers.
Tiny inconsistencies buried beneath ordinary behavior.
The False God Portfolio specialized in exploiting contradictions.
Discrepancies became visible.
People.
Mana.
Fate.
Everything left traces.
Even so, every sweep of the station produced the same result.
Eight visible threats.
One missing.
Watching.
Waiting.
"Say, Venus," Xion asked suddenly.
"Yes?"
"What's the train number?"
"B134. Why?"
Xion smiled.
"I need to use the restroom."
Sean immediately placed a hand on his shoulder.
"If that is the case, hurry."
"Right."
He bowed a little too politely and walked away.
Venus watched him disappear into the crowd.
"He is planning something," Sean said.
"Obviously."
"You are not going to stop him?"
Venus smiled faintly.
"If I could stop Xion from doing reckless things, I would have accomplished that years ago."
"That is not comforting."
"It was not meant to be."
Xion headed toward the restroom corridor.
Two sets of footsteps followed him.
A third presence lingered farther behind.
The masked one.
For the first time since entering the station, Clock delivered a warning sharp enough to send goosebumps across his skin.
The hidden threat had moved.
Inside the restroom, he approached a sink and stared into a cracked mirror.
For several moments, he simply looked at his reflection.
Then his gaze drifted lower.
Toward the scars hidden beneath his clothes.
This body had suffered before he arrived.
That fact continued to bother him.
Kiryuu possessed memories of writing stories about divine Portfolios and forgotten gods.
Xion Trinity possessed gaps.
Missing memories.
Unexplained wounds.
Instinctive fears that belonged to the body rather than the soul inhabiting it.
He pressed a hand against his chest.
"Maybe abilities change depending on fate or mindset," he muttered. "Maybe the Authority Core shapes each Array according to the person using it."
The theory made uncomfortable sense.
The Authority Core—the central source from which a pathway's powers and Arrays manifested—seemed deeply tied to the user.
The False God Pathway seemed especially adaptive.
Its Authorities revolved around identity, contradiction, imitation, and stolen legitimacy.
Which was troubling.
Because Xion was not entirely Xion.
And Kiryuu was not entirely gone.
A faint whisper drifted from beyond the door.
"Target spotted."
Xion froze.
"His mana is low, but there is something else inside him."
A concealed communication crystal.
"Take him out," another voice replied. "We cannot allow the Northern Kingdom to possess a Trinity candidate."
The missing ninth.
Xion lowered his gaze.
A shadow stretched beneath one of the stall doors.
Not hiding.
Waiting.
The assassin had entered before him.
More importantly, they had remained completely absent from Clock's perception until the moment of attack.
A cold realization settled in his stomach.
If he had ignored the warning…
If he had stepped into that stall without thinking…
He moved instantly.
The stall door exploded inward beneath his kick.
Steel flashed.
A blade shot through splintering wood exactly where his throat would have been.
The assassin reacted with terrifying speed.
Gray light erupted across the cramped restroom as the cloaked figure abandoned the ambush and launched backward.
For a fraction of a second, Xion saw them clearly.
Featureless mask.
Southern Kingdom insignia stitched beneath the cloak.
Eyes widening in shock.
Not because they had failed.
Because a child had detected them.
"Stop—!"
Xion lunged.
Too slow.
The assassin crushed something in their hand.
Space twisted.
Gray light swallowed their body.
Clock caught fragments of the mechanism before the Array collapsed.
The gray light carried traces of folded spatial mana layered over concealment authority.
Someone had embedded a high-grade Array into a disposable artifact.
The restroom windows shattered outward as the figure vanished beyond them.
Broken glass shards, varying in size, were scattered across the polished wooden floor, glinting faintly under the room's dim light.
For several moments, he simply looked at his reflection.
Then his gaze drifted lower.
Toward the scars hidden beneath his clothes.
This body had suffered before he arrived.
That fact continued to bother him.
Kiryuu possessed memories of his old life remember even the family he once had.
Xion Trinity possessed gaps.
Missing memories.
Unexplained wounds.
Instinctive fears that belonged to the body rather than the soul inhabiting it.
He pressed a hand against his chest.
"Maybe abilities change depending on fate or mindset," he muttered. "Maybe the Authority Core shapes each Array according to the person using it."
The theory made uncomfortable sense.
The Authority Core—the central source from which a pathway's powers and Arrays manifested—seemed deeply tied to the user.
The False God Pathway seemed especially adaptive.
Its Authorities revolved around identity, contradiction, imitation, and stolen legitimacy.
Which was troubling.
Because Xion was not entirely Xion.
And Kiryuu was not entirely gone.
….
Hours later, after the spies were dealt with and Train B134 had left Blackband behind, the three settled into a private compartment.
The locomotive thundered across the countryside. Its wheels hammered the rails in a relentless rhythm.
Clack.
Clack.
Clack.
Like a clock counting down to something none of them could see.
Venus sat across from Xion, an old grimoire resting on her lap. Its pale silver cover bore the symbol of the Fateweaver Pathway: an hourglass woven with golden threads.
After everything that had happened, she had finally used her authority to access part of the Trinity Family archives.
The grimoire opened on its own.
Pages fluttered.
Then stopped.
Ink crawled across the parchment like living veins, forming words, dates, names, and fragments of forgotten history.
Venus leaned in, scanning the text.
Sean sat beside her in silence.
Across the compartment, Xion watched with folded arms and a calm expression.
At first, nothing seemed wrong.
Then Venus frowned.
She turned a page.
Then another.
Then another.
Her frown deepened.
"That can't be right."
Sean looked over.
"What is it?"
Venus lifted the grimoire so they could both see.
"There are only six pages."
Xion blinked.
Sean's expression tightened.
Venus flipped through the grimoire again, as if the missing records might suddenly appear.
They did not.
There were only six pages.
"The Trinity Family has existed since the Dark Ages Era," Venus said, disbelief creeping into her voice. "They were here before the God's Apocalypse Era. Their bloodline is tied to the oldest records of divine authority. How can there only be six pages?"
The grimoire offered no answer.
Only the faint glow of incomplete knowledge.
Xion studied the pages for a few seconds.
Then his eyes narrowed.
"Maybe the information isn't missing."
Venus looked up.
"What do you mean?"
"It's locked."
Sean's gaze shifted to him.
Xion leaned back.
"You're accessing records tied to the Trinity Family through the Fateweaver Portfolio. But your Array is still low. If the information is protected by divine restrictions, your authority probably isn't strong enough to reach anything beyond the surface."
Venus fell silent.
The grimoire pulsed faintly, as if confirming his theory.
Sean's eyes sharpened.
"That was a quick conclusion."
"It was obvious."
"No," Sean said quietly. "It was not."
Venus tightened her grip on the grimoire.
"He may be right. Divine Candidates don't advance like ordinary Pathwalkers. Our Arrays aren't just ranks of power. Each one determines how much of a Authority we're allowed to touch."
She glanced at the six pages.
"If my Array is too low, then the grimoire can only show what my authority permits me to see."
Xion tilted his head.
"So even knowledge has a lock on it."
Sean nodded.
"Especially knowledge."
The compartment fell quiet.
Then Sean turned toward Xion.
His pupils shifted.
For an instant, they reflected the shape of an owl.
Venus noticed immediately.
Her body tensed.
The Wise Owl Pathway belonged to the Fateweaver pillar. Though not a Divine Pathway, it was a Beast Pathway linked to the sacred Athena Owl, a mythic creature associated with wisdom, perception, memory, and truth. Its users could gather information, detect hidden patterns, and expose falsehoods by reading the subtle interplay of words, mana, emotion, and intent.
In simpler terms, lying to Sean while his Owl Eyes were active was a terrible idea.
Sean's voice became calm.
Too calm.
"What is your Pathway, Xion?"
Venus looked at him.
Do not lie.
The warning was unmistakable in her eyes.
Xion felt the pressure settle around him.
Not physical.
Spiritual.
Sean's authority brushed against his words before they were spoken, waiting to see if they would bend.
Xion could have dodged the question.
Given half an answer.
Pretended not to understand.
Instead, he chose the sharpest path.
"The False God Pathway."
Silence swallowed the compartment.
The grimoire's pages froze.
Venus's eyes widened.
Sean went pale.
Even the mana in the air seemed to recoil.
Xion raised an eyebrow.
"Is something the matter?"
Neither answered.
Venus looked down at the grimoire.
The ink on the six pages began to warp.
A symbol emerged at the bottom of the final page.
A cracked halo.
An empty throne.
Black ink bled from the symbol like an open wound.
Sean inhaled slowly.
"The False God Pathway was never meant to awaken now."
Xion's expression remained unchanged.
"What does that mean?"
Sean glanced at Venus.
For once, she looked as shaken as he did.
After a long silence, he answered.
"The Characters of Fate recorded the order in which the Divine Candidates would appear. Every recognized Portfolio. Every chosen vessel. Every Genesis Crystal."
His voice dropped.
"Those records have guided the Cathedral for generations."
Xion held his gaze.
"And?"
Sean stared at him as though he were no longer a boy, but a crack spreading through reality itself.
"According to those records, the False God Pathway was not supposed to choose anyone for another six years."
Silence returned.
Only the wheels endured.
Clack.
Clack.
Clack.
Xion slowly leaned back.
"So fate is running early?"
Sean's eyes hardened.
"No."
His voice was quiet.
Certain.
"Fate does not run early."
Venus tightened her grip on the grimoire.
The cracked halo continued bleeding ink.
Sean's next words sounded almost like a confession.
"Something changed it."
Xion turned toward the window.
Outside, the countryside blurred beneath a pale sky.
For a moment, his reflection stared back at him.
Then something appeared behind it.
A shadow wearing a broken halo.
Xion blinked.
It vanished.
He looked back at Sean and Venus.
"So," he said softly, "you're telling me I'm six years ahead of destiny."
Neither denied it.
Xion smiled faintly.
It was not a happy smile.
"Great."
The grimoire trembled on Venus's lap.
"Just great."