By the time Elias finally reached the street where his residence stood, the night had already deepened.
Most of the surrounding houses had extinguished their lamps, leaving only the occasional window glowing faintly through drawn curtains. The quiet atmosphere suited him well; after the confrontation in the courtyard, the last thing he wanted was unnecessary attention.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it carefully behind him.
The familiar stillness of the house greeted him.
Only after securing the door did he allow himself to exhale fully. The tension he had maintained since leaving the gathering slowly drained away, leaving behind a dull ache in his chest where the Hunter's kick had landed.
He removed his coat and hung it near the entrance before moving toward the small table in the center of the room.
That was when he noticed it.
A wooden box had been placed neatly on the table.
Elias stopped.
He had not left anything there before departing earlier in the evening.
For a brief moment, his mind considered several possibilities, but the most likely explanation appeared almost immediately.
He approached the table and opened the box.
Inside lay a carefully wrapped container along with a folded note.
Elias unfolded the paper first.
The handwriting was elegant to say the least.
Mr. N,
I hope this reaches you without inconvenience.
As promised, the ingredient has been delivered.
I wish you a safe and successful advancement.
A faint smile appeared on Elias's face.
"To think the noble miss Justice could break in to people's houses," he murmured. "But then again, it's not like this is the kind thing to be lift in the mail box" he set the note aside and turned his attention to the container.
Within it rested a small crystalline vessel sealed with wax. Inside the transparent walls floated a dark red object resembling a hardened ember.
The Core of a Candle Devourer.
Even without touching it, Elias could sense the faint warmth radiating from the preserved organ.
With that, the final main ingredient had arrived.
He closed the box carefully and sat down for a moment, allowing the reality of the situation to settle.
Everything had come together far more quickly than he had anticipated.
The mosquito from the gathering.
The supplementary ingredients he had already prepared.
The core delivered by Audrey.
And even the unexpected Brilliance Rock taken from the Hunter earlier that night.
The necessary materials were now complete.
Elias leaned back slightly and rubbed his temples.
"Tomorrow would be the sensible choice," he muttered quietly.
But after a moment of consideration, he shook his head.
No. Delaying it now would only create unnecessary hesitation.
The ingredients were fresh, and his mind was clear. There was no reason to postpone what needed to be done.
He stood and began gathering the materials.
The preparation took some time.
Elias moved methodically through the process, arranging each component on the table with careful precision.
The house had grown completely silent by the time Elias finished arranging the ingredients on the table.
For several minutes he simply stood there, looking over the materials that had taken days of planning—and more than a few questionable decisions—to obtain.
The Blood-Speckled Black Mosquito rested within its small vial.
Beside it, the Core of a Candle Devourer glowed faintly inside its crystalline container, like a dying ember sealed behind glass.
The remaining ingredients were far less dramatic in appearance, yet no less essential: the vial of blood taken from the Hunter he had killed earlier that night, the fragments of nails collected from nine different individuals, the polished sapphire reflecting the candlelight, and a small dish containing ten grams of finely ground verbena powder.
Elias remained still for a moment longer before finally letting out a quiet breath carefully observing the setup.
Potion brewing in the Beyonder world was not merely chemistry.
Each ingredient carried symbolic meaning connected to the pathway it represented. Proper preparation and mental composure were just as important as the materials themselves.
"Well," he murmured to himself, "there's no turning back now."
The table in the main room was sufficient for organizing ingredients, but potion brewing required heat and space. Carrying the items carelessly from one place to another would be an unnecessary risk, so Elias moved slowly as he began transferring everything to the kitchen.
He placed each ingredient down carefully as he arrived, taking care not to disturb the order in which they would be used.
The final item to be set down was the glass vial containing the mosquito.
Elias rolled his shoulders slightly, as if loosening the stiffness left behind from the earlier fight, before turning his attention to the stove.
The process began with the simplest step.
Fire.
He gathered several pieces of coal and arranged them inside the stove before lighting them with a match. The flame caught slowly at first, spreading across the black surface of the coal until a steady heat began to build.
The room gradually filled with the faint crackling sound of burning fuel.
Once the fire had stabilized, Elias placed the cast-iron pot above it.
The metal heated gradually.
While he waited, he reviewed the formula once more in his mind.
Potion brewing was not forgiving. A moment of carelessness, a misplaced ingredient, or even poor timing could produce unpredictable results.
Main ingredients:
One Blood-Speckled Black Mosquito
• One Core of a Candle Devourer
Supplementary ingredients:
One hundred milliliters of another person's blood
• Nail fragments from nine different individuals
• One sapphire
• Ten grams of verbena powder
The list itself was simple.
The difficulty lay in the sequence.
Elias rested one hand against the counter and watched the faint shimmer of heat rising from the pot.
"Let's hope I don't screw this one up, I don't wanna go around cutting nails in the middle of the night again," he muttered quietly.
After a few minutes the metal was sufficiently heated.
Elias picked up the first ingredient.
The vial containing the Hunter's blood.
The liquid inside was dark and slightly thickened from cooling, its color almost black under the dim kitchen light.
"First supplementary ingredient," he said softly, more to steady his thoughts than out of necessity.
He uncorked the vial and poured the contents into the heated pot.
The liquid struck the hot metal with a sharp hiss.
For a moment nothing unusual happened. The blood began to warm slowly, releasing a faint metallic scent that mixed with the heat of the stove.
Elias waited, observing carefully.
Once the temperature stabilized, he reached for the next ingredient.
The sapphire.
The gemstone felt cool and smooth between his fingers. When he held it under the kitchen light, its surface reflected a deep blue glow.
He dropped it into the pot.
The gemstone struck the bottom with a quiet clink before settling within the dark liquid.
At first there was no reaction.
The blood continued to heat slowly, but the sapphire remained unchanged.
Elias watched for several seconds before nodding to himself.
"That's expected."
Without hesitation, he picked up the dish containing the powdered herb.
"Ten grams of verbena."
He tipped the dish, allowing the fine powder to fall into the pot.
The reaction was immediate.
A thick plume of smoke burst upward from the mixture.
It was not the gray smoke of burning herbs but something darker—an unusual shade of deep blue mixed with black, like ink dissolving in darkness.
The smoke curled upward and spread across the kitchen ceiling, carrying a sharp, herbal scent mixed with metallic blood.
Inside the pot, the sapphire finally reacted.
Its smooth surface began to soften.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, the gemstone started to melt.
The liquid mixture thickened as the dissolved mineral blended with the heated blood.
Elias leaned slightly closer, studying the transformation with careful attention.
The color was changing. Once the sapphire had completely dissolved into the mixture, he added the nail fragments.
What had begun as dark red now shifted toward a deeper shade, something between midnight blue and black.
"Good," he murmured, the reaction had proceeded exactly as intended.
Elias moved on to the primary ingredients.
He opened the vial containing the mosquito.
Even preserved in liquid, the tiny creature looked unnaturally dark. Its thin wings were marked with faint crimson speckles that glimmered briefly under the kitchen light.
Without ceremony, he dropped it into the pot.
The insect disappeared beneath the surface almost instantly.
For a moment, the liquid rippled slightly before returning to stillness.
Next came the Core of the Candle Devourer.
This ingredient required slightly more care. Elias broke the wax seal around the container and carefully removed the preserved core.
Even after preservation, the object retained a faint warmth, as though a small flame still burned somewhere deep within it.
He lowered it into the pot.
The reaction this time was instantaneous.
The liquid darkened further, absorbing the last traces of light from the room.
After allowing the mixture to stabilize, Elias removed the pot from the heat.
The final liquid had taken on a dense, almost oily texture.
He retrieved a clean glass vial and slowly poured the contents into it.
The potion settled inside the container, its color revealing itself fully under the light. Deep blue-black.
The shade was so dark that it almost seemed to swallow the surrounding brightness.
Elias lifted the vial and examined it for a moment.
"So this is it."
He tilted his head slightly and raised the potion toward his lips.
Then he stopped abruptly.
His arm froze halfway through the motion.
"…Sh*t."
Elias lowered the vial slowly as realization struck him.
"What am I doing?"
He stared at the liquid for a second longer before placing the vial back on the counter.
"I almost became a marauder."
He ran a hand across his face in mild disbelief.
"I completely forgot the most important step."
The potion resting inside the vial belonged to the Error pathway's Sequence 9.
Consuming it would not grant him the intended power of the Rightful pathway.
It would simply make him another victim for Amon.
He stepped back from the counter.
For several seconds he remained completely still, allowing his thoughts to settle again.
Then he raised his right arm.
His hand closed into a fist before extending the index and middle fingers forward.
Slowly, Elias began to draw a symbol in the air.
This symbol differed from the one he had used during the earlier summoning ritual.
The motion began with a small circle.
Then a second circle. Then a third.
One after another, the rings formed in the air as his fingers moved steadily through the empty space before him.
He traced it carefully in a clockwise direction.
When he finished, the complete symbol resembled a central point connected to eight surrounding circles arranged like spokes around a wheel, each facing one of the 8 cardinal directions.
Elias lowered his hand slightly, and just like the previous ritual he found himself inside the Celestial Spire.
The endless grey dust drifted slowly through the air, moving in quiet currents that seemed to respond to thoughts more than to any natural wind. The towering structure stretched into the distance in every direction, its scale as incomprehensible as it had been the first time he witnessed it.
Elias did not waste time admiring it.
His attention turned inward.
The symbol he had drawn in the physical world had left a faint trace, a kind of anchor linking his body to this place. By focusing on that lingering imprint, he could sense his unconscious body lying in the kitchen of his house.
The connection was weak, fragile, and unstable.
But it was enough.
Elias concentrated on the sensation, guiding the surrounding grey dust with deliberate intent. The drifting particles responded immediately, gathering before him as if drawn by an invisible force.
Slowly, the dust condensed.
A faint outline formed within the air.
At first it was little more than a distortion in space, but as the dust continued to gather, the shape became clearer.
A door.
Its frame was constructed from shimmering strands of starlight, faint and translucent. The surface within it shimmered like thin glass, revealing a distorted glimpse of the physical world beyond.
Through the doorway, Elias could see the kitchen.
His body remained where he had left it, slumped unconscious against the counter.
The potion vial rested nearby.
The door trembled slightly, as though the effort required to maintain it was already reaching its limit.
Without hesitation, Elias extended his will toward the dust once more.
The particles gathered again, this time forming a crude shape that stretched outward through the doorway.
A hand.
It was translucent and unstable, its outline constantly shifting as the dust struggled to maintain its form. The fingers looked as though they might crumble into mist at any moment.
There was no time to hesitate.
The hand reached forward.
It grasped the glass vial from the counter and pulled it back through the starlit doorway into the Celestial Spire.
The moment the potion crossed into the grey expanse, Elias dismissed the fragile door.
The connection collapsed immediately.
Now only the potion remained.
He lifted the vial and studied it briefly.
The liquid inside was still the same deep blue-black mixture he had brewed moments earlier.
"Let's hope this works," he murmured.
He raised his other hand.
At his command, the surrounding grey dust surged forward like a slow-moving tide, engulfing the vial entirely.
The particles pressed against the glass and seeped through it as though the container offered no resistance.
The potion inside began to change.
The process was difficult to describe. It was not simply alteration; it was reconstruction.
The Celestial Spire possessed a peculiar authority over reconstruction. By guiding the dust carefully, Elias could deconstruct the essence of the potion and replace the residual imprint left behind by its creation.
One by one, these imprints were stripped away. Then new information provided by the Spire replaced them.
The process resembled rewriting a manuscript whose words were made of reality itself.
When Elias finally withdrew the dust, the potion was no longer the same.
The deep blue-black liquid had vanished.
In its place floated a translucent grey substance.
It seemed to exist somewhere between liquid and solid. Thin strands drifted through the vial like faint glowing threads, forming patterns that shifted slowly as though alive.
Satisfied, Elias lowered the vial.
Without hesitation, he gathered the dust once more and reopened the fragile doorway to the physical world.
The translucent hand formed again and returned the vial to the kitchen counter.
The moment it released the container, the doorway dissolved.
Elias prepared to return to his body.
But before doing so, his gaze drifted briefly toward the center of the vast space.
There, suspended within the drifting grey dust, floated the same sphere of pale light that constantly emitted mist.
Now it pulsed with a brighter light, like it just came to life.
Elias observed it for a moment before turning around.
"Later," he said quietly.
There were more immediate matters to address.
With that thought, Elias withdrew from the Celestial Spire.
Consciousness returning to his body.
The first sensation he felt was pain.
A sharp stinging sensation spread across the back of his left hand.
Elias opened his eyes and sat up slowly, glancing down at the source of the discomfort.
The symbol he had drawn earlier—the wheel with eight surrounding circles—had appeared on the back of his hand.
It shone faintly with white light, like a brand etched into the skin.
The glow faded gradually until it became little more than a pale mark.
Elias flexed his fingers once before turning his attention toward the counter.
The vial remained exactly where it had been placed.
Inside it, the potion had changed.
The translucent grey liquid shifted slowly, strands forming and dissolving within the container like drifting threads of mist.
Elias picked it up and examined it carefully.
Then, without hesitation, he removed the stopper and drank the potion in a single motion.
The effect was immediate.
A cold sensation spread from his throat down through his chest before surging upward into his mind.
For a brief moment, his vision blurred.
Then the voices began.
Layered whispers echoed inside his head, overlapping and intertwining in hollow, hissing tones. They carried fragments of meaning that were impossible to fully grasp, like pieces of a language half-remembered from a dream.
Elias clenched his fists as the sensation intensified.
The voices grew louder.
Knowledge began to surface within his mind.
Not spoken, nor written.
Simply known.
The information unfolded itself naturally, as though it had always existed somewhere beneath his thoughts.
Sequence 9: Rightful
The name settled into place.
Along with it came the understanding of the abilities the potion granted.
The first was Safe Lock.
He could temporarily lock objects in place, making them extremely difficult to move or displace. The effect was simple yet powerful, forcing the object to remain where it belonged unless sufficient force was applied.
Next came Link.
His perception shifted slightly as the knowledge settled. The world around him now contained faint threads; thin white lines connecting objects, people, and events.
These were the Threads of Origin.
Some connections appeared strong and bright, while others were faint and distant. The clarity of the threads depended on time, proximity, and the strength of the relationship between the linked things.
Another ability revealed itself.
Hostile Vision.
Through it, Elias could perceive spirits and creatures that carried malicious intent. The ability did not grant perfect sight into the spirit world, but it allowed him to detect the presence of hostile entities before they revealed themselves.
A defensive instinct followed.
He could temporarily lock his own body, preventing foreign entities or supernatural effects from entering it.
Then came something deeper.
Analysis.
The ability manifested as a heightened clarity of thought. Facts, observations, and fragments of mystical knowledge could be examined rapidly within his mind.
This made him extremely observant to events, making it extremely difficult for him to be deceived, and contradictions became easier to detect.
Finally, one last concept emerged.
Fateless.
It described a peculiar state of existence.
Someone outside the script. Someone who did not fully belong to the flow of predetermined events.
Even the River of Fate itself would struggle to perceive such a person clearly.
Elias remained seated in silence as the knowledge settled.
His breathing slowly returned to normal, and the whispers faded.
The transformation was complete.
After a moment, he stood up and tested his balance.
His body felt lighter and more responsive.
The potion had also granted him noticeably greater agility.
Elias glanced at the faint symbol still visible on the back of his hand.
Then he looked toward the kitchen window, where the first hints of dawn were beginning to color the sky.
His eyes shone with a pale light as he activated Link, he immediatly precieved pale white threads connecting his form to all sorts of things.
Most of them existed inside that same kitchen, but one extended farther outside his house.
He couldn't see where it led, but it was too bright to ignore, he turned around, he wasn't moving fast, but not slow either. He made his way to his room and laid on his bed before closing his eyes.
But beneath the covers the symbol on his hand released faint pale light.