Genetic Ascension

1578 Never His

Sylas stood in silence for a long while. It was hard to tell if he was thinking of much of anything at all. Yet, whether it was Old Brama, Alex, or the woman, none of them said anything.

It seemed that after Jalaʼs death, there was a slight shift in the air. Though Sylas still acted the same as always, the same wasnʼt true of Old Brama or Alex.

In reality, of the three, Alex definitely had the deepest understanding of Sylas. But even Alex himself had to admit that he had maybe gotten a bit too comfortable.

He had started to call Sylas ”Psycho Syl” for a reason. There was a hidden sharpness within Sylas that was so well maintained and controlled that it rarely reared its ugly head.

Maybe if Alex had seen Sylas after the matters with Nyssa happened, he wouldnʼt have neglected this so easily. But after having to wipe Jalaʼs blood clean from the ship, it was something he would surely never forget again.

As for Old Brama, though he had signed a contract to follow Sylas, there had always been a part of him that felt if it came down to it—or if Sylas didnʼt live up to his promises of protecting his granddaughter-then he would have some real consequences to deal out.

He wasnʼt as familiar with Sylas as Alex was, but maybe he should have known after seeing Sylas interact with a Demi-God and even survive his own furious attack as a mere F-tier that he wasnʼt dealing with just a normal genius.

Memories Old Brama had almost forgotten about surfaced in his mind.

Indeed... there had been a time he almost took Sylasʼ life. He had been convinced that Sylas was a Charysm who had influenced his granddaughter in ways he shouldnʼt have.

Back then, he had attacked in a complete fury and nearly took Sylasʼ life.

Now that he was free of the rage that once clouded his vision and recalled... he couldnʼt remember ever seeing the slightest ounce of fear in Sylasʼ eyes.

He took the attack of a C-tier with a fraction of the strength, came out of it alive, and then turned the situation around to not only pull the Golden Grove beneath his thumb but even turn away a Demi-God that had been oppressing them.

Maybe because he was a C-tier and felt like he could kill Sylas whenever he wanted, Old Brama had easily forgotten about this matter. He had even overlooked the fact that Sylas had been the first to come out alive from a Secret Realm their people hadnʼt managed to clear in countless generations.

Just where did his depths lie?

Seeing the professor that Sylas brought back and how much strength she hid within herself, part of Brama began to wonder if Sylas had killed Jala for more reasons than just him crossing his bottom line.

It was a warning.

A reminder of who was dominant here, who was following who, and where their orders were coming from.

Now it wasnʼt just something they understood; it was something buried in the very depths of their souls. And all it took was a single action to ingrain it.

Now, no matter how confused they were, if Sylas didnʼt speak first...

They didnʼt dare to.

That was when the stars moved again.

[Quicktime Event Triggered]

[Stars of Luminaria]

[Level Recommended: N/A]

[Description: Fates align and stars twinkle. Space crumbles, time fades, but Runes remain eternal. A point of light to Spark it all, it cradles the start of all and the end of everything. Those that can sense its presence can Spark a Light of their own, but such a possibility is limited to only the very rare few.] [Event Type: Cross Tier]

[Clear Requirements]

[Domination]

Sylas didnʼt react much at all when he saw the Quicktime Event, and even less when he saw the description.

A Cross Tier Type? He had never seen this sort of Quicktime Event, but was this supposed to pit him against those stronger than himself? How would the system do that, exactly?

Sylas lit up, but so did the woman, and following so, Old Brama was wrapped in a point of light as well.

All three vanished, leaving Alex alone.

The usually jovial young man stood in silence for a long while, his eyes narrowed. After a while, he shook his head and then just went to find a seat. He assumed that this was going to be a good show.

When Sylasʼ vision cleared, he found himself in a room of white. Beneath him there was a circle of light etched with gold. It was as simple as could be and almost looked like a simple halo.

When he looked around, there were three others: Old Brama, the woman, and one man Sylas had never seen personally before.

His eyes looked like rotating kaleidoscopes, what looked like chipped pieces of glass covering his cheeks, the backs of his hands, and his forehead.

Each one of these pieces practically held a universe of their own. Mysterious and hard

to fathom, they hid a contained sequence of Runes, each one seemingly as complex as a world.

Fowler Leava.

Despite the beauty of his raceʼs features, the man himself was as disheveled as could be. He wore a lab coat that could have been dirtied with anything from blood to an odd rusted color Sylas had no desire to decipher the origin of. His hair was no less wild and erratic.

They looked like ill-maintained dreadlocks glued with kaleidoscope glass, each one likewise reflecting their own worlds.

Fowler could have truly been a handsome man if he took better care of himself. His race had a truly hard-to-place beauty about it, but much like the Sloth, he squandered it all.

The difference, though, was that this was simply the Slothʼs personality.

As for Fowler, this was the representation of his fall-off.

He had grown to this state after chasing something that wasnʼt his own to have.

And now he had come to Sylas to reclaim what was never his.