The wind in Detracta always carried whispers—threads of forgotten languages and faded intentions etched into the still air. Ari stood beneath the looming spires of the Detractor Sanctum, where the final stages of his system refinement neared completion.
The ancient code pulsed within him now—unlocked, flowing like primordial riverlines of logic and power through his core. His Signum glyphs glowed brighter, but what fascinated him more were the subtle distinctions between raw strength and perfect structure. He had power before—but now, he understood its shape.
Inside the training chamber, lines of multi-dimensional glyphs danced in the air as Ari repeated the forbidden syntax he'd learned.
[Invoke::OriginSequence]<#Sig:CoreSync>{LoopChain[3]:Calibrate@Thread:Override}[Condition:Null-State_True] > [Trigger:CodeRelease:PhaseDelta]
The spell flared—and immediately fragmented into 13 sub-threads. Each hovered around his body like satellites, collapsing back into his core after execution.
The Detractor overseer clapped slowly, approvingly. "You've surpassed every known framework, even our hidden prototypes. Your system… it doesn't adapt. It rewrites."
Ari exhaled, drained but determined. The code within him was alive. His hand trembled slightly, not from exhaustion—but from anticipation.
Later that night, seated in the Sanctum's scriptorium, Ari penned a letter.
It was addressed to four names:Cerys Aetherrose, Eluin Velastra, Primira Vastelune, and Lysira Cindergale.
Each letter was personalized—subtle differences written in their respective symbolic languages: Aether-runes for Cerys, dream-glyphs for Eluin, royal code-script for Primira, and heat-glass script for Lysira.
"I'll be returning soon. But this place holds one final treasure, hidden away in sub-code archives—tomes encoded for training your specific threads. I will retrieve them. These are for you, not because you need them, but because you deserve to see how powerful your lineages truly are when freed from artificial bounds. When I return, we'll train together—without limits."
He sealed each message with a fragment of code-light, ensuring only they could read it.
The next day, Ari stood before the Oblivion Vault, one of Detracta's final archive chambers. Only those who were once part of Originis—or now recognized as such—could open it.
He held out his hand and whispered:
[Unlock::TrueLineage] > Grant@Key(OriginisCore)
The great stone gate split open like an ancient book. Inside, glyphs floated in place like suspended constellations—manuals, tomes, and forbidden scrolls, untouched for millions of years. Ari's eyes narrowed.
Each scroll had a name etched into its code:
Aetherrose Sigilwork – Fractal Casting Techniques.
Veilbound Paradoxes – Dreamtime Manipulation.
Cindergale Combustion Hierarchy – Flame Thread Modulation.
Luxthread Refraction Arrays – Royal Line Kinetics.
He carefully gathered them, encrypting each to the bearer of the thread it belonged to.
As he left the vault, he whispered, "When I return to the kingdom… they will all know. That they were never meant to be bound by the limits forced upon them."
He looked up at the simulated sky of the Detractor citadel, where light flickered like the remnants of a broken sun.
Ari smiled faintly. Training had only just begun. But when he returned, he wouldn't rise alone.
He'd bring them with him.The ones who stood beside him in silence, in fire, in dreams, and in truth.His companions.His future.