Chapter 11: Bound by Wings
[Do you agree to these terms?]
The glowing red words hung in the air, heavy, pressing against Elvas's chest like a cold hand squeezing his heart.
He froze, his breath shallow, torn between accepting or rejecting the system's demand.
Slowly, he sank onto the edge of his bed, the old mattress creaking under his weight. His palms sweated against the worn cover of the book, and his voice broke in a whisper.
" I… already killed someone?" His throat tightened. "Kalia… because of me?"
The thought dug into him like claws. His heart hammered, fear mixing with guilt until he could barely breathe.
"What if I say yes and more people get hurt?" His voice shook. "Will I become the monster they already believe I am?"
He shut his eyes, forcing a deep breath. Images rushed in anyway—his mother's screams, the blood spilling into the dirt, her lifeless body crumpling as the elders stood by.
"They killed her," he hissed, his voice hardening. "The clans, the elders—they took her from me."
His fists clenched, nails biting into his palms. "They called it justice, but all it did was leave me with nothing. A nobody. A freak."
His head lifted, eyes narrowing at the blazing words before him.
"But the system changed that," he said, his voice raw, steady. "It gave me power."
The fire in his chest burned hotter, consuming hesitation.
"I'm done being weak." His voice rang with finality. "System… I accept."
The air trembled. The words flared brighter, searing into his mind as the voice of the system echoed, cold and final.
[System Response: Host now in contract. Soul binding complete. System and host are one.]
Elvas gasped. A surge of energy roared through his body, so intense it stole his breath. His skin burned, his veins felt alive, his heart thundered like a drum of war.
It was overwhelming. Terrifying. Beautiful.
He staggered, clutching the edge of his bed as his body shook with raw strength. His senses sharpened; even the faintest creak of the wooden floor seemed clear.
"What's… happening to me?" His voice trembled with awe. "I feel… different."
He steadied himself, chest heaving, mind spinning.
"System," he managed, eyes burning with hope, "is it done? Did it work?"
[System Response: Host binding complete. New ability unlocked: Devil Wings.]
Elvas's breath caught. His eyes went wide.
"Devil… wings?" His voice cracked. "Actual wings? Like the stories?"
Stories whispered of a demon born with devil wings, powerful enough to split mountains and level armies. Legends—nothing more. Or so he thought.
"No way," he muttered, laughing nervously. "This… this is real?"
His legs carried him to the cracked mirror against the wall. His reflection stared back, pale, shaking, but alive.
That's when he saw it—a dark, jagged mark pulsing faintly across his chest, as if etched into his very skin.
"System," he said sharply, pressing his fingers to it, "what is this mark?"
[System Response: Proof of our binding. You are now one with the system.]
[You may hide or reveal it at will. Your imagination unlocks your potential.]
Elvas swallowed, forcing calm. A shiver crawled up his spine.
"Alright," he whispered, focusing. "Let's see."
He closed his eyes, willing the mark to vanish. Slowly, it faded, leaving his chest bare again.
He blinked at his reflection, lips parting in disbelief.
"I… did that." A shaky smile tugged at his lips.
But then his thoughts raced back. "System, you said… devil wings. How do I use them?"
[System Response: Use your imagination, host. Will them into existence.]
Elvas raised a brow. "That's it? Just… imagine?"
His pulse quickened. "So I picture wings and—what—bam, they just… appear?"
He closed his eyes, taking a sharp breath.
He imagined them—vast wings, dark and powerful, spreading from his back.
Suddenly, pain exploded through him. His back arched violently, a cry tearing from his throat as fire ripped down his spine.
It was agony—like blades cutting through flesh, like something clawing its way out of his body.
Then, with a deafening crack, something burst free. The room shook, the walls cracked, his bed scraped across the floor as wind howled through the air.
Elvas staggered forward, eyes darting to the mirror—
And froze.
From his back spread enormous, jagged wings. Dark as obsidian, sharp at the edges, glinting with a strange, deadly beauty.
His chest swelled, pride and disbelief clashing inside him.
"I… I have wings." His voice trembled, fierce. "I actually have wings."
The realization sent a rush of exhilaration through him—until a sharp knock rattled the door.
He froze, panic flooding his veins.
"Who's there?" His voice cracked, too loud, betraying the fear rising inside him.
His gaze snapped back to the mirror. The wings still stretched wide, filling nearly half the small room.
"System!" he hissed. "How do I get rid of these?"
[System Response: Will them away.]
Elvas clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes tight. He pictured himself without them—back bare, body normal.
The pain flared again, then faded, leaving his shoulders sore and his back aching. He opened his eyes—his reflection was human once more.
The room, however, was ruined. Cracks scarred the walls, dust coated the floor, books lay scattered.
"Damn it," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "How the hell am I supposed to explain this?"
Another knock—louder this time.
His heart leapt.
"Hold on!" he shouted, scrambling.
He snatched up a broom, his body moving with unnatural speed, sweeping plaster and dust aside in a blur. In seconds, the room looked almost normal, though the cracks in the wall still lingered like scars.
Elvas shoved the system's book deep into his backpack, chest rising and falling fast.
He walked to the door, forcing his breath steady, though his pulse hammered against his ribs.
The door creaked open—
And there she was.
"Liora?" His voice caught, eyes wide.
Her silver hair shimmered faintly in the light, her sharp green eyes fixed on him, unreadable yet softer than usual.
His chest tightened. Of all people—why her, now?
"Liora," he whispered again, stunned. "What are you doing here?"
For a moment, she hesitated. Then, her voice came quiet, almost unsure.
"Can I come in?"