Genetic Ascension

Sylas didn't react very fiercely to Gogo's departure, and he certainly wasn't angry.

Sometimes the most irritating part of being so new to this world was that there were things he simply couldn't see through, not because he lacked the intelligence to understand them, but because the pieces had started moving long before he even knew the board existed.

No matter how intelligent he was, there was no such thing as accounting for one hundred percent of everything, and that blind spot only grew larger when it involved someone he actually cared about, a category Gogo had entered a long time ago.

Were the Gogo he had known and the existence that had just torn open a path toward the God Realm truly one and the same? It seemed so, at least in some strange and twisted sense, and maybe that was part of why Sylas couldn't bring himself to feel much anger over it.

Gogo had never harmed him, never sabotaged him, and had never done anything Sylas could honestly call a betrayal, though the fact he had left behind half of the Fate Dragon made it seem more like he was settling the Karma between them than taking advantage of him.

Sylas had always treated the hostility of others in much the same way. If someone wanted to kill him because he stood in their way, then that was simply how the world worked, and he rarely saw any point in becoming emotional over a fact of life.

Gogo's choice felt no different, especially when his actions had left Sylas with something incredibly valuable rather than taking everything for himself and disappearing without a trace.

The remaining half of the Fate Dragon had become strangely docile, which was perhaps the greatest sign that Gogo hadn't intended to leave behind a problem for Sylas to clean up.

Sylas had come here expecting a long struggle, something that would require Sky Roaming, his Progenitor authority, and perhaps even the assistance of several of his Contracts to suppress, but instead it had practically fallen into his lap.

If Gogo had truly wanted to exploit him, there had been far more damaging ways to do it.

Sylas smiled faintly as another possibility passed through his mind. Gogo was trying to become the progenitor of a Race whose very existence rested upon Pride, and perhaps accepting Sylas' help all the way to the summit would have been the exact thing that made such an achievement meaningless to him.

Sylas could have helped him surpass Dragons, but if Gogo wanted to become the new ceiling, then lowering his head to someone else on the path there might have defeated the purpose entirely.

That thought only made Sylas' smile deepen. As far as he was concerned, Gogo would stand beside him again one day, and maybe that day would come much sooner than either of them expected. Gogo could chase Dragons, go steal wives, rebuild his Race, and try to become whatever impossible existence he wanted, because Sylas himself was aiming for something far beyond that, and when the time came, Gogo would lower his head again just like everyone else.

Sylas raised both hands and pressed his palms together before speaking a single word.

"Come."

The remaining half of the Fate Dragon moved without resistance, crossing the distance between them in a blur before slamming directly into the center of Sylas' forehead.

Pain exploded through his skull at the same instant, and a low growl rolled from his chest as his body began to change under the pressure, his frame expanding another two or three feet in height while muscle and bone shifted beneath his skin.

Horns extended from his forehead and curved outward with a weight that felt far more natural than forced, while the remaining Fate Dragon continued pouring into him without pause.

He had no need to fear using his Demonic Form here, not when he had truly laid claim over the entire galaxy.

This hadn't been Sylas' original plan. He had intended to bring the Fate Dragon back to Sky Roaming, where the Will forming around the city could suppress it beneath the authority of both his Progenitor Status and the Grimblade foundation.

Sky Roaming was being shaped around the subjugation and control of Serpentes, its very majesty designed to force them to lower their heads, which made it the obvious place to deal with something as dangerous as a Fate Dragon.

But there was another route, and Gogo's departure had pushed Sylas toward it. Sylas was the Ancestor of the Grimblades, while Sky Roaming was their central city, which meant anything he absorbed deeply enough into his own Will would eventually flow toward that foundation anyway.

The difference was that if he filtered the Fate Dragon through himself first, then by the time that power reached Sky Roaming, there would be far less of its original nature left to resist.

If Sylas brought the Fate Dragon directly to Sky Roaming, then the city would be forced to suppress what it already was and slowly grind away everything that remained of its former identity. If he passed it through his own Will first, then he could strip away those lingering attachments before Sky Roaming ever had to contend with them.

The old Clan, the ancient purpose, and the remaining impressions that had survived inside the Fate Dragon could all be swallowed by Sylas first, leaving behind something that belonged to the Grimblades alone.

A Grimblade Dragon.

The nebula erupted around him.

Royal blue and gold currents twisted violently as pressure expanded through the void, while Sylas' hair whipped wildly above his head and blood poured from his eyes in thick streams that stained both cheeks.

The pain continued rising, not because the Fate Dragon was resisting him in any meaningful sense, but because the amount of Will and Karma being forced through his body had already exceeded what his current vessel had ever needed to withstand before.

Even in his Demonic form, the pressure was almost too much.

His Will trembled beneath that pressure, and Sylas could feel the barrier he had long understood as Infinity pressing against him from every direction. Infinite Will had carried him farther than anyone at his level should have been able to reach, but it was still a boundary, and the existence being drawn into him was forcing him to finally acknowledge that fact.

The sensation wasn't one of his Will failing, but of it reaching the point where remaining what it had always been was no longer enough.

Sylas' emerald gaze burned through the blood running from his eyes as he tightened the connection between himself, the Grimblades, and the Fate Dragon now pouring into his existence. If his Will was going to become the foundation through which the Fate Dragon was rewritten, then Infinity could no longer be the final shape of it.

The pressure surged again, violent enough that the entire nebula seemed to buckle around him, while the void itself shuddered under the weight of what was taking place.

Sylas remained suspended at the center of it all, blood streaming down his face and horns rising proudly from his forehead, his expression carrying none of the panic that such an impossible transformation should have demanded. He had already made the decision, and now there was only one thing left for his Will to do.

It was time for Infinity to transcend itself.

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