Sylas took a breath, and then another deep breath.
The Glass Throne high in the skies continued to stand there, tall and proud.
And then Sylas took just one more breath.
It felt like the entirety of Earth had breathed with him. His pupils dilated, his understanding of the world hitting absolute perfection.
Earth had been restrained for so very long, restricted by broken Runes and several failed Summonings.
While the system made it clear that it would only be now that the people of Earth got full access to the range of benefits that ca with it, there was one thing it neglected to ntion, only implying it... That being that Sylas would also gain full access to the range of abilities that ca with being a Progenitor.
In one mont, Sylas' Will was at death's door.
In the next, he was brimming with it, the world around him reaching perfect harmony with his very Will itself.
It felt like he was breathing with Earth, and while he didn't quite have enough understanding to match this feat with the whole of the Milky Way Galaxy... He didn't need such a thing right now.
A golden glow lined Sylas' severed limbs and they finally healed, fusing back into his torso. Strands of flesh wrapped around one another tighter and tighter until it almost felt like they were far stronger than they had been before.
All of Sylas' fatigue was washed away and he felt just the slightest twinkle from his Title Palms of Fate for the first ti in a very long while.
But he also didn't need it.
His grip on the spears tightened and power erupted from Sylas' limbs. No longer relying on his telekinesis alone, the world trembled beneath his might.
The wood of the spears splintered as he ripped them out and then suddenly pulled on them.
The ancient warriors were ripped off their perches, but the irony of it all was they didn't even have the chance to recover.
A violent swirl of Glassvolt rippled out from Sylas in the shape of a sphere as he roared. Everywhere it passed, the ancient warriors died in droves.
And when it flickered out of existence, Sylas stood in the middle of the carnage... if the vast emptiness and twinkling erald precipitation could be called such a thing.
He looked down at his hands, sohow feeling as though he was looking at his body from a third party's perspective. It felt like the Earth itself had beco his eyes.
Sylas closed his eyes for a mont.
So this was what it felt like to be a Progenitor, to feel all-powerful and untouchable...
[Title Unlocked: Progenitor Unity]
[You have heard the call of your world and responded. You are no longer just a Progenitor in title, but one in essence, in ancestry, in blood. The beating of your heart rhys to the rhythm of the winds that caress your face and the rays of starlight that lick at your flesh.] [Fair warning, though, Progenitor of Unity. Damage inflicted to your World will now directly harm you.] —
[Progenitor Unity: Bronze]
'Bronze, is it? Why does it feel so much like a Comprehension?'
When Sylas looked into his body, he could swear he could sense a bronze flickering fla. But every ti he tried to pinpoint exactly where it was, it slipped away.
Sohow, it also felt like his Progenitor Flas, and yet several tis more potent.
The mont Sylas thought of his Progenitor Flas, though...
The Bronze Progenitor Unity Fla danced.
The entire world froze both in ti and space.
This was no illusion. It was reality.
Sylas' eyes slowly opened and he took a step forward. He appeared before an ancient warrior and flicked a finger.
His claw slit across his throat and his head went flying into the skies.
The world began to move forward again, but to everyone else, it noticed as though Sylas had suddenly moved to stand above the temple, and all at once, the sea of tens of thousands of warriors were all decapitated at the very sa instant.
Sylas felt Earth whine, a large amount of its energy being siphoned away. But he hardly reacted to it at all.
Earth had more to give. Much more.
If it was going to be tied to his well-being...
It would have to be better than this.
Slowly, Sylas raised a hand as he felt the City Stele of the Lost City of Greed. If the Rat didn't appear now... Then it would just have to lose its city.
The mont he sensed the City Stele and pulled on it, a hand appeared around his wrist. It all happened so fast Sylas didn't register it even with the changes to his psyche.
It was like this person existed outside the bounds of what even a world or the system could sense.
When Sylas saw the wraps that covered the bony hands, he knew exactly why.
The Scorned Wraps.
The fingers looked almost like they belonged on a skeleton, the fingers so long they almost looked to be double the length of the palms they were attached to. And yet, they were longer still with the blackened, curved claws on the end of them.
What skin there was, if it could even be addressed skin at all, was gray and weathered, almost like it was ford of poorly compressed ash.
"Sylas Grimblade." An oddly soft voice spoke, one so gentle one would have expected to hear it from a scholar. "I've been waiting a long ti to et you. To think... that you would cause to suffer not just one loss, but two, and very nearly a third as a little E-tier... "I am very impressed... very impressed, indeed. As expected of a Disciple of Madness."
Every mont was still being broadcast to the whole of the Horizon, and many other Horizons had long patched in to watch. Even with the roads destroyed, Earth was now officially part of the Summoned Worlds. If there were powerful Clans and powers that really wanted to see what was happening on it after a connection had already been made, they didn't need the Angels to do it... not if Earth had yet to set up its own protections yet.
However, Sylas didn't react like soone who had just been exposed.
"I've told you already. You aren't as clever as you think you are."
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