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Threat Level Zero: A Tale of Ascension

At the dawn of time, nine unique races were birthed from the ashes of all that used to be. The Nephilim was one of these nine races, and as their line was wont to do, bred with the other eight, until the bloodlines of the others were too watered down to utilize their Fragments of Creation. The Nephilim, now the humans, gained these powers, with certain lineages holding the potential to birth Manifestations. The descendants of the other species still have dominion over the Fragments of their ancestors, but unlocking this power is the work of millennia. All of them have the potential to return to the greatness of their ancestors, but only humans, the innovative creatures that they are, can become more. This story follows Fate, an assassin taken from his home as a child and subjected to sick experiments that awakened his Manifestation. With a new family, he aims to wipe the organization that subjected him to such treatment from the face of reality. But the Advanced have other plans.

Lolbroman25 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
341 Chs

Think On It

That reaction only earned a cackle out of Benedict. "You aren't getting out of this so easily, young man. You offered my daughter your hand in marriage, and she accepted it. You can only blame yourself for this."

"Why do you insist on forcing your daughter and me into this?" Fate asked angrily. "It's obvious that we don't want this! Do you really want to force your daughter to marry someone you barely know?

"Do you want me to embarrass your daughter in social gatherings? To fight for Samantha's honor whenever someone slights it? What happened to your daughter being made of 'tough stuff?' She's more than capable of handling things.

"And I, for one, can also fight my own battles. One of us shouldn't have to be sidelined just because our Facet comprehension isn't as deep. We –!"

"Fate, what are you talking about?" Samantha asked.

"You know what I'm talking about," Fate said, growling at her father. "The spouse with the stronger Facet has to fight duels on the other's behalf. My honor is my own, and hers is hers. It's not someone else's responsibility."

Benedict just shook his head. "That's a tradition; nothing more. It's entirely optional. But this only further cements my decision. Any man that can appreciate my daughter's autonomy and recognize her backbone is someone I'd be proud to call a son."

"There's still the matter of our unwillingness, father," Samantha reminded him. "If you respect my autonomy, why are you trying to tie me down? You've been doing nothing but contradict yourself this entire time."

"Ah, but that's the thing, isn't it?" Benedict asked. "Why talk it out when I can just show you?"

He pulled out a crystal ball, a ubiquitous tool on Ziobrun. The sheer number of uses a crystal ball could have meant Fate and Samantha couldn't tell where Benedict was going with this at first.

The Adept funneled some Mana into it and tossed the item into the air. It stopped at the peak of its trajectory, the rays of the artificial sun above bouncing within and being cast out into a dazzling display of colors.

A tendril of pinkish Mana shot out toward both Fate and Samantha, lathing onto their foreheads before they could blink. Another tendril, this one yellow, attached itself to Benedict

The eyes of Fate and Samantha widened as the memories and thoughts the other had of them were dragged to the forefront of their minds.

The dreams that surfaced at night in Samantha's mind as a child, the guilt Fate felt for what he had done, the regret both held in their heart, the dreams that still appeared to both in their sleep, the residual feeling still left over, all of it was laid bare for the other to see.

Benedict nodded, satisfied, evidently seeing all of this as well. With a thought, the tendrils snapped and the ball landed in his hand, which he stored in a storage ring.

"Isn't enchanting a wonderful thing?" he said wistfully. "It can build empires, topple cities, make life easier with every generation, and even delve into the deepest and most mysterious thing in civilization: the mind.

"Now, I don't know about you two, but I saw more than enough to support my case. I say you two let bygones be bygones and start over. If in two years you feel differently, then I promise I'll veto the marriage."

"We can still go visit my father and beat an agreement out of him," Fate suggested to Samantha, avoiding her gaze.

Benedict sucked in a breath, a sympathetic look in his glowing eyes.

"What? What does that mean?" Fate asked confusedly.

"I tried to interroga— *interview* him when I was looking into you," Benedict said slowly. "He died a week and a half ago in an accident at the lumber mill he worked at."

Fate blinked. "Why hadn't I heard of this?"

"Brergan is a town in the middle of nowhere," explained Benedict empathetically. "There's no mail system, no Mages to teleport to the city. The Guard stationed there can't leave his post, and his crystal ball is for official use only.

"I don't think I need to tell you how incentivized the villagers would be to inform you of his passing."

"I…" Fate just blinked, unable to process what he had heard.

He wasn't sad at his old man's passing. Far from it, actually. He wasn't happy, either, though.

While he hated his father Terna with a passion, much of who Fate was as a person was because of his father. He would be lying if he said he learned his bullishness and abrasiveness from someone else.

If his father hadn't mercilessly beaten Fate every time he made himself look weak, Fate never would've strived to become strong.

If one had to choose between getting a black eye and several bruises from others his own age, only to go home and get pummeled for losing, or giving their all to make sure that never happened, what would any sane person pick?

From Terna, Fate had learned independence, confidence, and a drive to be better than the alcoholic man who Fate called father. To say Fate was who he was because of Terna was an understatement.

So while Fate couldn't bring himself to grieve for the old bastard, he also didn't feel like celebrating. He could only give a light sigh and push it to the back of his mind.

He had cut ties with that man when he Awakened. It was as simple as that. He only suggested going to him for the sake of himself and Samantha.

"Just give it some thought," Benedict suggested gently, lowering himself into his chair and closing his eyes. "There's no rush. Take these two or so years to see if you belong together. Whatever happens, I'll respect your decision.

"Until then, I don't want to hear anything more on this topic. Every minute you spend arguing with me is one you could be spending figuring this out.

"Now begone with you."

With a slap of his chair's armrest, Benedict activated an Imprint in the grass that swept Samantha and Fate up, depositing them in the hall.