Chapter 4 – The First Hunt (Part 1)
Dawn crept across the fractured skyline like light spilled through broken glass.
Rael stood at the edge of an abandoned terrace overlooking the city that had once sung his name. Towers of white stone still rose from the mist, but banners had changed—gold where crimson once flew. The age of heroes gleamed proudly above a world that no longer remembered its maker.
> [System Notice – Observation Mode Active.]
Crimson symbols shimmered behind his eyes, mapping invisible threads that crossed every street below. Each thread pulsed faintly—destiny currents tugging toward favored souls. The System's voice followed, calm and mechanical.
> [Detected Anomaly: Localized Destiny Surge — Sector 7.]
[Source: Hero Patrol in Purification Routine.]
Rael's pulse steadied. A hero patrol. Low risk. Perfect data.
He flexed his marked hand. "So this is my test. Let's see how the story reacts when the villain moves first."
He descended narrow stairways that wound through collapsed arches. Every surface carried remnants of the old design—the runic channels he'd once engineered to amplify heroic blessings. Now the same network served as a map of weaknesses.
Outside, the world had changed color. Sunlight felt heavier, almost suspicious of shadow. Rael adjusted his cloak and let Echo Memory replay fragments from the scout he had encountered. The memory unfolded like a hologram—images of a nearby guild outpost, routes, passwords, gossip whispered around firelight.
The outpost emerged soon after: a squat tower ringed by market ruins. Banners of the new guild hung above a courtyard where merchants prepared for inspection. Two guards lingered near the gate, laughing.
Rael paused, absorbing every tone.
"Did you hear? They say the Architect's ghost still haunts the undercity," one said.
The other snorted. "If he's a ghost, he can watch while real heroes rebuild his world."
Rael felt nothing. Or tried to. A slight tremor touched the sigil on his palm.
> [Emotional Resonance Detected. Conversion Recommended?]
"No." He shut the prompt down with a whisper. "Let me keep this one."
He slipped through a side entrance where the stone had cracked. Inside, the hall smelled of oil and parchment. The guild's archive lay ahead—scrolls cataloging relics reclaimed from the ruins. He didn't need relics; he needed patterns. The System highlighted an intersection of fate lines above the table where a single crystal pulsed faintly.
> [Minor Destiny Node Identified.]
Rael placed his hand over it. The sigil flickered, drawing thin threads of light. For an instant, the world tilted. Every heartbeat within the building echoed in his ears—five on the ground floor, two above. Knowledge came effortlessly, intoxicating. Then the backlash: a wave of dizziness, a whisper of forgotten memory slipping away.
He steadied himself. "So even information carries a cost."
> [Balance Maintained.]
A shout from outside broke the silence. "Patrol incoming!"
Rael turned toward a high window. Across the plaza, figures in shining armor approached—five heroes in formation, their emblems glowing with divine resonance. The leader's sword shimmered with holy light that made the air ripple. Too bright, Rael thought. Too loud.
The System whispered:
> [Probability of Direct Conflict – 3%. Opportunity for Controlled Interference – 82%.]
He smiled faintly. "Controlled interference sounds like art."
The patrol halted near the outpost gate. Their leader—perhaps not Elias himself, but one of his lieutenants—raised the blade high. "By decree of the guild, we purge remaining corruption. Stay behind the barriers!"
Rael's mind raced. He could not face them openly. But fate itself flowed around them, heavy with unused potential. If he nudged those threads just slightly—
> [Skill Ready – Devour Trace Tier 2.]
[New Function: Fate Distortion Field – Localized Manipulation.]
He extended his hand toward the plaza. Crimson runes blossomed in the air, invisible to all but him. The ground beneath the heroes shimmered like heat haze. When the purification ritual began, their own energy bent—amplified, then redirected.
Light struck marble and rebounded, scattering harmlessly into the clouds. Confusion rippled through the formation.
"What happened?" one of them shouted.
"Feedback loop!" cried another. "The array's inverted!"
Rael watched, detached yet fascinated. It wasn't destruction—just misalignment. A single mathematical flaw rewriting divine order. The heroes stumbled back, their aura dimming.
> [Fate Drain: 0.9 Units Absorbed.]
[System Efficiency + 7%.]
Power washed through him like cool wind, clear and bright. Then—pain. A sudden blank in memory, as though a name he once cherished had been erased. He gritted his teeth.
"Price accepted," he whispered.
The System pulsed softly in acknowledgment.
He turned to leave before the patrol regrouped, but movement caught his eye—one of the heroes, a young woman with golden eyes, had seen him through the wavering light. Recognition flared. Not of his face, but of his presence.
She shouted, "There! In the shadows!"
Five pairs of eyes turned toward him. Swords lifted. Rael sighed.
"So much for subtlety."
Every story begins with light… until someone questions who holds the pen."
---
The scent of burned mana hung in the air—sharp, metallic, and alive. Dawn's purity had been fractured by the inversion spell; pillars of light flickered, trembling between holiness and ruin.
Rael stood at the edge of the shattered ritual circle, crimson motes still swirling like embers drawn to him.
One of the heroes—armor cracked, faith trembling—stared at him.
"You… you shouldn't exist."
Rael's expression remained calm. "Neither should gods who break their own rules."
> [Warning: Narrative Distortion Detected.]
[Choice Protocol Initiated — Assimilate / Eliminate.]
The System's voice was smooth as silk and cold as steel.
Rael's eyes flickered. "Always so absolute. No middle ground?"
> [Deviation not advised.]
[Observation tier increasing: 42%.]
A chill threaded through him—the feeling of being watched by something older than the System itself.
---
The heroes regrouped quickly. Four remained conscious; two tried to stabilize their priestess, her hands trembling as she struggled to channel light that no longer obeyed her.
Rael's gaze traced their fate lines—golden threads twisting wildly, seeking narrative correction.
He raised his hand. "Echo Rewrite."
Crimson runes spiraled outward, weaving through their consciousness. Time stilled. Their voices turned to echoes of memory—looping, uncertain.
"Who—"
"Where—"
"What are we fighting—"
He pressed deeper, not into flesh, but into story. He could erase their knowledge of this encounter, realign their perceptions.
> [Assimilation Cost: 12% memory integrity.]
[Confirm?]
"Do it."
Light bled from his vision as memories slipped away—faces, a laughter, a promise—gone.
When clarity returned, the heroes had dropped to their knees, blank-eyed, murmuring fragments of forgotten faith.
---
Only one remained unaffected.
A young knight—her blade trembling, her eyes wet but unbroken.
Rael paused. The System identified her.
> [Subject: Lysara Dawnfield – Fate Anchor detected.]
[Immunity Level: High.]
"Why can't I forget you?" she whispered.
He studied her like a paradox. "Because you're still tethered to the story I wrote."
Her expression shifted—recognition sparking where memory had failed. "You… you're the one they called the Architect."
Rael tilted his head. "Once. Now, I'm merely a correction."
She lunged—not in anger, but desperation. He sidestepped easily, palm brushing her armor. Fate shimmered.
A surge of energy passed between them, not absorption, but exchange.
> [System Log Updated — Fate Interlink Established.]
[Warning: External entity now linked to user's narrative thread.]
Rael pulled back, unsettled. "That wasn't supposed to happen."
Lysara dropped her sword, trembling. "Then maybe the world's not yours to rewrite anymore."
Before he could respond, the sky dimmed.
A shadow spread across the dawn like ink spilled over parchment.
> [Administrator Alert — Unauthorized Rewrite Detected.]
[New Directive: Observation has begun.]
The System's voice fractured—distorted, almost afraid.
Rael looked up.
Through the breaking clouds, a colossal eye of light opened—neither divine nor human—observing, evaluating.
He felt the weight of creation's gaze press down on him.
"So the author watches the villain now?" he murmured.
The System didn't answer. Only a single line pulsed crimson across his vision:
> [New Quest Unlocked – Identify the Administrator.]
Rael turned toward the city once more, cloak whipping in the storm winds.
If destiny wanted to watch, then he would perform.
> "Then let's make the story worth observing."
---
Next: Chapter 5 – Echoes of the Past
The Architect returns to his forgotten workshop — but memory is the most dangerous construct of all.
Author's Note:
If you enjoyed this chapter, drop a comment — what do you think the Administrator truly is? 👁️