CHAPTER 401: BLOOD FOR THE GODS

There was a time when Xion had been truly rebellious against Michael.

Not just a stubborn or uncooperative one.

But truly, viscerally rebellious. The kind of defiance that lived in bone and blood, that didn’t fade even when his body had died once.

He had fought him with every ounce of strength he could muster. Even when the laws of the universe pressed down on him, smothering his power like a heavy blanket, he had refused to stop.

His breathing had been ragged, his vision dark at the edges, but his hand had still found the hilt of a knife.

And with a surge of rage, he had driven the blade straight at Michael.

The memory was a jagged, vivid fragment in his mind.

There was the sound of steel slicing through the air, the startled, almost disbelieving look in Michael’s silver-grey eyes before pain overtook him.

The chaos that followed was still fresh in his mind. The scent of blood, burning in his lungs, and the heavy slap that had knocked him to the floor.

That was also the day Michael had shed whatever last shred of humanity he had before making good on his promise.

He had turned Xion into nothing but a mindless puppet.

And somehow... somehow, in that chaos, Xion had managed to make Michael lose his right eye.

It was ironic because in this new life, Xion had lost the vision in his right eye as well.

The reason for it all was Talia Valaria.

If it weren’t for that incurable poison, nothing of this would have happened.

There weren’t many things the system couldn’t detect, unless they were not simple medical things...

The poison was crafted by one person alone, a creator of things so heinous they almost defied logic. And it had been handed to Talia deliberately.

Come to think of it, perhaps, Michael had noticed him long ago. Maybe when he first stepped into that broken church.

Even in this life, there was a slight scar on his eyebrow. It was faint, almost negligible, and Xion would not have recalled it if not for his system pulling Michael’s 3-D picture.

’You are being too generous, system. Doing everything without even asking for any reward.’

The system snorted at the back of his mind.

[I am keeping a tab on everything. The moment we are done, I’m going to vanish with all your mall points.]

Xion merely shook his head.

Noxian was still fast asleep.

With the night getting darker, Xion realized Darius wasn’t coming to find him.

With the way Darius’ mind worked, there was no predicting what he would do.

Maybe he was sulking over the earlier incident. Maybe he was plotting some new way to cage Xion, to put chains on his ankles before they could run far away.

Or maybe both. Darius had always been ambitious enough to multitask his vicious obsession.

And yet, Xion wasn’t afraid of him.

To others, Darius’ love might have been a suffocating, terrible thing.

The kind of love that clung like chains, that shadowed every step, that demanded the world shrink until it was only the two of them. A love too sharp to hold without bleeding.

But to Xion, it was the only thing that ever felt like home.

He was love-starved, though he rarely admitted it — even to himself.

His skin remembered those loving touches the way deserts remembered rain: with aching, desperate thirst.

Every brush of fingers, every lingering kiss was something his body hoarded greedily, as if it might be the last.

In his last life, there had been no warmth to curl into when the nights felt horribly long.

There was no gentle voice calling him lovely names every two sentences.

He had been alone — not just in the physical sense, but in the way that seeps into the marrow, leaving hollows that no one can see.

So when Darius came, with his consuming presence and his stubborn obsession, Xion didn’t see the cage.

He saw proof that someone could care enough to hold him this tightly. That there was a man who would think of him before the sun, before the air, before himself.

Even if that love was twisted. Even if it bordered on madness. Darius’ devotion was a kind of violence, but it was violence wrapped in the comfort of certainty.

Xion never had to wonder if he mattered. Never had to question if he was wanted when Darius was with him.

That was his anchor.

And for someone who had once been a ghost walking through life, unseen and untouched, that kind of love wasn’t suffocating.

It was the first breath after drowning.

[Are you ready, host?]

Xion blinked, pulled out his musing by the system’s voice. ’Yes, I am.’

[If this fails, I would be held liable for breaking the laws of the Good System Campaign, and that would mean an immediate reset.]

He rubbed his hand into his tousled hair, trying to set it in style before standing from the bed.

’Don’t worry. It will be fine.’

The moment his feet touched the carpet-covered floor, cold seeped into his soul.

With the next step, he almost tumbled.

Staying in bed for a long time was certainly not an idle situation for legs.

Like a newborn fawn, he wobbled before his legs finally started working like normal.

’I feel like some rusted machine,’ he muttered. ’Every joint is creaking with my movements.’

Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand, and after what felt like years, he stepped inside his lab.

There was nothing he could see. He nearly bumped into his table.

Patting over the drawers, he managed to find the ring he made for Darius.

[You wearing it? Are you sure this way, you will be able to talk to gods?]

’I am positive,’ Xion nodded as he slipped it on his finger.

[Listen, host, there is still time to turn around. We can make another plan. I can also look in the black market to see if there’s something that could improve your vision,] the system babbled.

[I am sure with how spread our connection is to many other worlds, we might be able to find something.]

Xion couldn’t help but laugh. ’Calm down. I know them better than anyone, no?’

[...Yes.] The system could only relent. [Here you go.]

With a swish, Xion grabbed a knife from the system mall.

It was one of the sharpest knives, something that could cut even metal.

It had a silver blade gleaming under the crystal light.

[Are you sure you want to risk it?]

’No more wasting time on trying to persuade me, darling. Let’s get to work.’

[... Okay. But remember, if you really end up dying, I can make a clone for you.]

Xion laughed. ’Sure. I’ll take up on that offer.’

The plan was very simple. Cut his wrist until the blood seeped out.

With how weak Xion’s health had been, a little push could be deadly.

If anything good had happened after Xion got his memories, it was the understanding of how his system truly worked.

It was Mr. Cat’s product. That meant, as long as he was in any kind of immediate danger, there would be a solution.

’Okay, I am starting,’ Xion muttered before placing the sharp edge on his wrist.

[... All the best, host. Don’t die for real.]

There was a faint crackling in the system’s voice as if some things were being turned over or maybe new codes were being generated to bypass the parent programme.

Then Xion slashed at his skin. The pain was immediate, and he could feel the wetness trailing down his fingertips.

[Okay, now we wait. If there’s no change — Wait! Host!]

But Xion didn’t wait.

The blade rose, and before the system could protest again, he plunged it straight into his heart.

The impact stole his breath. Crimson welled and spilled down his chest, painting him in his own mortality.

His mouth filled with the copper taste of blood before his body gave out, collapsing to the floor with a dull, final thud.

The gods were very keen on what lies deep within human hearts.

That was how they decided who deserved another chance at life to make up for their mistakes — and who should burn in hell.

Xion wasn’t an angel anymore. He was just a mortal.

A human who wanted to live with his lover just like any other being.

So when he said he would die to make the plan work, he had to make it real.

Minutes stretched into something unbearable. Time slowed until it felt viscous.

Even the air in the room seemed frozen, holding its breath.

His lashes quivered with every pained breath he took.

The cold from his soles started to travel up his ankles to his waist until it devoured what little warmth remained on his face. As if weighed down by a mountain, his eyes closed.

The system’s voice blared in his mind.

Just then, a blinding light flashed across his vision.