Orion blinked several times in rapid succession, his expression betraying his internal struggle to process Scott’s words.

“You devoured the curse?” he repeated slowly, as if testing the statement’s validity. His voice carried equal parts confusion and bubbling curiosity. “Did I hear that right?”

Scott nodded. “Indeed,” he affirmed with quiet certainty.

Orion’s brows knit together, his gaze scrutinizing Scott with open doubt. Scott chuckled softly and took a measured step forward.

“You must be wondering if my personality has already been corrupted,” he mused, watching as Orion snapped out of his pensive state. “I assure you, that isn’t the case.” His steps were slow, deliberate, his voice unwavering. “I have never felt this good—ever.”

Stopping just a foot away, Scott placed a hand on Orion’s shoulder, his grip firm but lacking any true weight.

“I appreciate your concern,” he said, voice light with amusement. “But it’s wasted on me.”

Still, he noticed Orion’s gaze lingering on the blackened marks that marred his skin.

Scott exhaled softly. “It seems you won’t be at peace until they disappear.”

Before Orion could respond, the marks—countless and ominous—began to churn. They twisted and rotated, condensing into a spiral of nihility. Orion’s eyes widened as the phenomenon unfolded before him. Within moments, the cursed sigils that marked Scott’s impending extinction had simply vanished.

Orion’s mouth parted slightly—whether in awe or confusion, even he wasn’t sure. But the fleeting emotions quickly gave way to something far more consuming. His lips curled into a grin—wide, unrestrained, brimming with unhinged curiosity.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Scott’s voice cut through first.

“I know you’re curious,” Scott said, watching Orion’s shifting expressions with amusement. “We can discuss the details later. There’s another reason I allowed you to come here.”

Orion took a steadying breath, forcing his excitement under control. “Which is?” he asked.

Scott’s gaze hardened. His posture shifted—calm, but no longer playful.

“Tell me the truth.”

The words rang heavy in the air, the lightness in Scott’s tone evaporated entirely.

“I know you have your reasons, and I won’t ask you to reveal them,” he continued, his eyes locking onto Orion’s with piercing intent. “But I need to know—have you attained demi-godhood?”

A flicker of something passed over Orion’s face—something subtle, but not missed. The slight twitch at the corner of his eye. The near-imperceptible parting of his lips.

Silence stretched between them, thick with tension.

Then Orion spoke, his voice flat, void of theatrics.

“I have.”

Scott inhaled deeply, nodding slowly. “Ember, too, correct?”

“Yes,” Orion confirmed. “She has also attained demi-godhood.”

Scott lowered his hand, his expression unreadable.

“None of this makes sense,” he murmured. His gaze bore into Orion’s. “I haven’t reached that level myself, but I know how powerful I am right now. And you’re telling me that Ember—a demi-god—was slain by mere Calamities? It doesn’t add up.”

His voice was steady, measured. “And then there’s you. I’ve never underestimated your abilities, Orion, but not once did I assume they reached the realm of a demi-god.”

Orion chuckled softly, shaking his head. “That’s because there are shackles—restrictions, if you will.”

He raised a hand. “What do you see?”

Scott’s brows furrowed. What is he hinting at? His gaze scanned Orion’s arm, searching for something, anything out of the ordinary. But there was nothing.

“You can’t see them, can you?” Orion’s teasing grin widened.

“What am I supposed to be looking for?” Scott asked, intrigue creeping into his tone.

“Attaining demi-godhood means severing your mortal roots,” Orion explained. “Everyone beyond the Point of No Return refers to the floors before it—the earlier stages—as the Domain of Mortals, and for good reason.”

Scott remained silent, listening intently.

Orion’s grin stretched wider. “Because anyone who surpasses mortality—who hasn’t ascended beyond this point—will have **** placed on them—”

Scott’s expression shifted instantly. “What?” he interrupted. “They will have what placed on them?”

Orion tilted his head. “I said, they will have **** placed on them.”

Scott’s frown deepened. “Are you messing with me right now?”

Orion remained silent, simply watching him.

Scott’s eyes narrowed. “You paused instead of saying—”

His voice trailed off as realization dawned.

He’s not messing with me. Scott’s fingers curled slightly at his sides. I’m not being allowed to hear it.

Was it the Administrator? The Tower itself?

He was lost in thought when Orion’s voice rang in his mind again.

“I said, they will have **** placed on them.”

Scott raised his head and met Orion’s gaze.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

He shook his head.

“You still can’t hear me?” Orion asked, genuine curiosity flickering in his eyes.

Scott nodded.

Orion exhaled sharply, rubbing his chin. “That’s strange,” he murmured. “This isn’t some grand secret—no one has ever been barred from hearing it before.” His gaze darkened slightly. “At least, not until you.”

Scott opened his mouth to respond, but Orion crouched down suddenly, tracing something into the dirt.

Scott’s eyes followed his movements. Is he trying to bypass the restriction?

But as he stared, his brows furrowed in irritation.

What the hell is he doing?

The symbols Orion traced weren’t words. They weren’t anything recognizable. Just chaotic, meaningless scratches—like a chicken mindlessly tilling the soil.

Is this some kind of code?

“How about now?” Orion asked mentally, glancing up at Scott.

Scott frowned. “I still have no idea what that’s supposed to be.”

“Describe what you see,” Orion prompted, adjusting his glasses, his curiosity visibly growing.

Scott studied the crude markings again, his brows creasing. “Honestly? It looks like something a chicken or some animal would scratch into the dirt.”

Orion let out an abrupt chuckle, his intrigue deepening. “Interesting,” he mused, rubbing his chin.

Lowering his gaze again, he carefully etched a single letter into the soil. Then he lifted his head, meeting Scott’s eyes.

“How about this? Can you read it?”

Scott examined the letter, but confusion only deepened his frown. What the hell is that even supposed to be? The symbol looked like an inverted capital ‘A’ with the curves of an ‘S’ and the forks of a ‘Y’ twisted into it.

“I’ve got nothing,” Scott admitted, crossing his arms. “That doesn’t look like any letter I know.”

Orion laughed again—this time, his excitement undeniable. In a sudden motion, he shot to his feet, his eyes locked onto Scott with keen intensity.

Scott narrowed his gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“There’s something—or someone—that doesn’t want you to know this,” Orion said with barely restrained glee. “I don’t know why, and frankly, I don’t care, but I’m determined to bypass this restriction.” His smile widened. “It’s a challenge now.”

Scott’s eyes glimmered with understanding, his own curiosity sharpening into something colder. Why would someone—or something—place this restriction on me? His thoughts drifted briefly to the enigmatic figure he encountered in the nihilistic zone. Could it be their doing? He quickly dismissed the idea. No matter who’s responsible, I need answers. And Orion might be the only one who can help me uncover them.

His expression relaxed, though his mind was still turning. “Good luck with that,” he said dryly. “More than anyone, I will be hoping for your success.” He shifted his stance slightly. “But for now, I’m not done with my questions. Are those restrictions stopping you from using the full extent of your abilities?”

Orion smirked. “That should be obvious.”

“I know,” Scott said, his tone steady. “But to what extent?”

Orion didn’t answer immediately. He furrowed his brows, lost in brief contemplation. Then, he exhaled and spoke.

“I’ve grown accustomed to this form, so I can fully exert 100% of my power within what’s considered the realm of mortals.” His smile turned wry. “Above that?” He let out a soft chuckle. “That number drops to a big fat zero.”

Scott’s brows shot up slightly. I expected as much, but I was hoping he’d found some loophole. His mind drifted to Ember. If Orion is completely restrained, then she must’ve been as well.

“Between you and me,” Orion continued, his tone more serious, “I wouldn’t advise against shedding your mortal roots—restrictions or not.”

Scott arched a brow. “Why? I assumed you’d be warning me away from it, not subtly encouraging it.”

Orion leaned against a nearby rock, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. “The restrictions are frustrating, no doubt. But the moment you discard mortality, you start to ****—”

Scott’s expression shifted. “What?”

Orion blinked.

Scott scowled. “You just did it again. I can’t hear what you’re trying to say.”

Orion whistled lowly, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. “Damn. They won’t even let you hear the benefits?” He shook his head, laughing softly. “I really can’t wait to unravel whatever’s binding you.”

Scott, on the other hand, found no amusement in his predicament. He inhaled deeply, his expression returning to a cold neutrality. At the end of the day, I just need to become a demi-god. That’s the only way I’ll get real answers.

“What’s your plan?” Orion asked suddenly, shifting the conversation. “Are you still prioritizing expanding your territories? Or will you be waiting for the others to awaken?” A teasing smile crossed his lips. “Or has this whole demi-god business taken center stage?”

Scott didn’t answer immediately. Orion didn’t press.

Silence stretched between them for seconds, then minutes.

Finally, Scott exhaled. “I was planning on leaving the Endless Bridge temporarily,” he admitted.

“Oh? Why?” Orion asked, curiosity piqued.

Scott shook his head. “That doesn’t matter anymore.” His gaze drifted into the distance, thoughts lingering on something unseen. “I do want to increase my power, but I have a feeling things won’t follow the conventional route.” His eyes darkened with resolve. “With that being the case, I’d rather stay here and amass as many territories as possible.”

He turned back to Orion, his expression unwavering.

“That’s the only way we can ensure there’s hope for Ember’s revival.”

Orion studied him for a moment before nodding. “Alright. I got it.” He flashed a grin. “I’m fine with anything, really.”

Then, his grin turned sharper, more dangerous.

“It’d be much better if our pursuers came here instead of us running from them in an unfamiliar timeline.”

“I agree with that,” Scott said, his voice even. “As much as I hate to admit it, I have no doubt that the hands of the gods have reached every conceivable timeline. Wherever we go, I’m certain they’ve already prepared for our arrival.”

“True, true,” Orion giggled softly, pushing himself off the rock he’d been leaning on. He rubbed his hands together, excitement glinting in his eyes, before flashing Scott a dazzling smile.

“So, tell me,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. “How do you plan to acquire more territories?”

Scott’s lips curled into a thin smile. “I could explain… or I could just show you.”

Without another word, multiple massive nihilistic portals erupted across the territory, dark and unfathomable. At the same time, the Chains of the Abyss uncoiled from around Scott’s arm, slithering into the bottomless void like living entities.

Within seconds, tension rippled through the air as a series of twangs echoed across the landscape—the sound of the chains tightening as they reeled in their catch. Some portals towered impossibly high, while others flickered and twisted, seemingly on the verge of collapse yet stubbornly holding their form.

Orion grinned widely, eyes gleaming as he observed the spectacle unfolding before him. The chains, taut with resistance, dragged forth whatever lurked in the abyss. Some reeled in their prey swiftly, while others struggled, as if whatever lay beyond was refusing to be taken.

Then, a deafening, inhuman shriek tore through the air.

Orion’s gaze snapped northeastward. There, emerging from the portal, a creature wreathed in nightmarish flames, soot, and vapor thrashed violently against the chains that bound it.

Another guttural scream followed, this time from the opposite direction. A hulking titan of pure muscle was wrenched forth, its limbs tightly ensnared, its misty, glass-like eyes leaking corrosive blood.

From above, a low, slithering hiss reached Orion’s ears. He tilted his head back, and his lips parted slightly as he chuckled involuntarily. High above, coiled within the obscure clouds, a massive six-headed serpentine beast was being dragged from the skyward portal.

Then came the cacophony.

Wails. Screeches. Roars.

One after another, monstrous beings spilled into the territory, their grotesque forms bound by Scott’s abyssal chains.

Orion’s grin stretched even wider. His gaze flicked back to Scott, admiration evident in his expression.

“This is beyond my expectations,” he admitted, shaking his head in awe. “You literally have an army of your own.” He giggled, then turned toward the largest portals—ones that fluctuated violently between stability and collapse.

“Now I’m really curious to see what sort of abominations will step through…”

But before he could finish his sentence, his words trailed off. His jaw slackened.

His eyes were locked onto one of the most unstable portals.

From within the turbulent rift, an enormous, blood-red eye filled with malevolent intent peered through, its gaze sweeping over the rocky terrain.

Orion felt an oppressive weight bear down on him as the eye shifted away from him—settling instead on Scott.

A thunderous voice boomed across the landscape, shaking the very fabric of reality.

“Ruler of Nihility.”

The air itself trembled.

“I have awoken from my slumber… to answer your call.”