"Accept fate? A path already carved. Defy it? Wield the blade to forge your own."
"Destiny's threads aren't unbreakable. They await a bold hand to weave anew."
"Pawns obey. Kings command. Weavers reshape the board."
The Successor Mark flared. The ruins dissolved into pure light.
The world shattered, an endless sky of swirling constellations consuming him. Weightless, he felt his very being unravel and then knit back together. Unseen forces remade him, threading fate into his core.
[System Integration Complete.]
[The Successor's Body is Awakening.]
Power surged.
His serpentine form convulsed, scales burning with new energy. Then, the shift.
For the first time since rebirth, his coils unwound, his body lengthening, twisting. No longer a serpent. The chilling cold vanished, replaced by an unfamiliar lightness. Golden light erupted, solidifying into a new form.
His feet touched solid ground.
Sharp, unsteady breaths filled his lungs.
Slowly, he raised his head. His reflection solidified in the cosmic expanse.
Humanoid.
Tall, lean, draped in midnight silk embroidered with shifting golden constellations. Celestial runes pulsed on his no-longer-scaled arms. His nails, sharp, tipped with the darkness that once bound him.
And his eyes…
No longer amber.
Now, burning amethyst fire.
Power!
It coursed through him, refined, controlled—his.
[New Skill Unlocked: Fate's Dominion]
[You can now alter the probability of minor future events.]
Ryuxian exhaled, flexing his fingers.
"This…" A smirk touched his lips. "This is going to be interesting. Time to settle a score with a certain scorpion."
A soft chuckle echoed in the abyss.
The God of Fate watched, her cosmic presence immense.
"You wear it well."
He grinned. "Was there ever a doubt?"
No answer. Her hand rose, and a new thread appeared.
Silver and gold, pulsing like a heartbeat, unlike the black thread that had bound him. It hovered between them.
"A successor's trial awaits, little serpent."
Her voice held a new weight. Not challenge, not amusement. Expectation.
"Still intent on fighting fate?"
Ryuxian reached out.
His fingers brushed the thread—
[Successor's Trial: The Loom of Fate Begins.]
The universe swallowed him.
A fleeting nothingness. No sound, no air, no sensation. Just the void.
Then, like a star igniting, he was again.
"Rebirth: not a gift, a challenge. What you become is the only answer."
"Power reveals, not changes."
"To awaken is to command the vision, not just see it."
Ryuxian gasped as his senses flooded back. His new body felt alien, stretched and unfamiliar. He lifted a pale hand in the soft glow.
White-silver hair cascaded over his shoulders.
Long. Soft. Luminous in the swirling cosmos.
He touched it, a strange sensation. Then, another realization slammed into him.
Naked.
Wait.
A child?! Seriously?!
Seriously?!
Well, you're in his body!
Don't you like it?! Nope. Nah-ah!
He muttered, "Better than scales."
A sharp cough escaped him. "A warning about this part would have been nice."
A soft laugh echoed. The God of Fate, still above, regarded him with amusement. A flick of her fingers, and garments materialized.
A white tunic with flowing red patterns shimmered around him, fitting perfectly.
Weightless yet rich, woven from celestial energy. Fitted sleeves bore faint silver sigils. The high collar gave him a regal air.
Successor's attire. He knew it instinctively.
"Better?" Her voice was light.
Ryuxian exhaled. "Yeah, much better."
Then
[Successor's Trial: The Loom of Fate Begins.]
In the distance, a colossal mansion materialized in the void. Majestic, unlike anything he'd ever imagined, even beyond horror movie grandeur. Alive with red and golden celestial energy, adorned with threads of fate.
A single glance conveyed its immense power, dwarfing even the God of Fate's presence.
A voice echoed through the ruins.
"Fate does not test the weak. It forges the free."
"The greatest power: not seeing the future, but creating it."
"An unwoven thread is unclaimed fate. An unchallenged destiny, a gilded cage."
The space around him twisted.
The Trial Begins.
The ground shattered.
A surge of power ripped through reality as Ryuxian fell.
The celestial realm fractured, folding into a labyrinth of shifting stardust and cosmic threads. Unseen energy thrummed. At its center, glowing, pulsing, was a Loom.
Massive, divine, ancient. Beyond comprehension.
Threads of fate wove through its frame, infinite possibilities intertwining.
Her voice whispered, "To wield fate, one must first understand it."
A pulse of energy slammed into Ryuxian, forcing him to his knees. The weight of the cosmos pressed down.
His own fate was being rewritten.
His fists clenched. He would not bow.
Not to fate. Not to anyone.
The Loom of Fate's Test
The Loom's threads pulsed, shifting. A single black thread unraveled, floating before him.
"This is your fate."
The God of Fate's voice echoed, unseen.
"To become my successor, you must weave your own path."
Ryuxian narrowed his eyes. His essence laid bare. As his fingers brushed the thread, visions erupted.
Vision One: The Unraveled Thread.
Nothingness. Erasure. No second chance. A forgotten whisper.
His breath hitched. Failure.
Vision Two: The Bound Thread.
A puppet. A tool. Bound to her will. A successor, but not free. Emptiness choked him.
A caged ruler.
Vision Three: The Thread He Wove Himself.
Undefined. Unwritten. His own fate, forged by his hands. Fear mixed with a desperate desire to live for himself, for once.
A true successor.
The Loom pulsed. The choice was his.
A Fate of His Own Making
Ryuxian grabbed the black thread.
Not to sever it.
Not to be controlled.
But to weave it anew.
Silver light erupted from his fingertips, intertwining with the black. His power surged, his soul burning.
The Loom shuddered. The celestial plane quaked.
Then
The thread solidified.
No longer black.
But a deep, shimmering stardust hue—the color of his eyes.
A new fate. His own.
The Celestial Reward
The Loom fell silent.
The God of Fate appeared, her expression unreadable, yet holding something akin to approval and amusement.
Her hand rose. A single gemstone formed.
A fragment of the Loom. A condensed star. A piece of fate.
The same color as his new thread.
"You have done well."
The gem floated to him, embedding itself in a delicate chain around his neck.
[Celestial Artifact Acquired: Fate's Starstone]
Warmth pulsed through him. His power stabilized. His transformation was complete.
The God of Fate smiled.
"You are no longer just a pawn, Ryuxian."
"You are now a Weaver of Fate."
(Hope you won't be another fallen one.) She muttered.
And with that
The celestial realm vanished.
Ryuxian opened his eyes to a new world.
"Few touch fate. Fewer claim it."
"A successor isn't chosen. They choose."
"The cosmos belongs not to followers of stars, but to those who reshape constellations."