LightspeedX001

Eons have passed since the prophesied godslayer met his demise. Yet, in a world reborn, whispers stir of his return, of a new man born from the remnants of an ancient prophecy. 

Kallen, destined to master the delicate balance between chaos and order, light and darkness, emerges to defy the very fabric of fate.

Existence is a tapestry, one whole, connected, and indivisible. It is woven by the fabric of fate, spun with the strings of karma, and stitched with the threads of causality. 

Yet, within this unity lies individuality, and this individuality is the essence of existence. The manifestation of essence is Will.

But what is a sparked Will against one akin to a raging inferno? What is a child before a mammoth? The conviction of a mortal before the boundless Will of cosmic beings?

The answer is defiance!.

A defiant Will, is what Kallen needs to  liberate himself from the suppression every mortal endures from apex lifeforms. To live his life free, unhinged and on his own terms. 

But it takes a bit of crazy to be brave, and Insanity to be defiant.

This is the story of a mortal breaking limits to achieve Apexification, to walk with his head held high and free in every corner of the universe.

It is the irony of a slave who holds the reins, even as their chains bite deep. It is the cry of a heart bound in servitude, yet refusing to surrender its essence.

The Transcendent Godslayer

Suddenly, the mystery behind Kallen's disappearance made far more sense. A boy vanishing under the noses of multiple Saints with not a single clue, had never made any sense.

And now, a disturbing pattern was emerging.

"I think I might know something..." Hamada murmured after a pause.

"...He reminds me of Luther. Their auras… they feel the same."

"Luther?" Selene asked, her brow furrowing.

Hamada gave her a slow, knowing look.

"I think Callista sensed it too. That might explain why she reacted the way she did," he added with a wry smile.

Odd, that he could smile. But they let him... He was a man… and more than that, a Saint. If this was how he chose to mask his grief, as well as his... shame, so be it.

His guess was quite far-fetched, perhaps even desperate, but the others couldn't deny it outright.

At least three of them, aside from Sixtus, the old foggie among them, felt a kernel of truth in his words.

Luther... Lucien