Chapter 155: Imprint

For a long time, Eden said nothing.

He stood in the endless white expanse, staring at Nyx as the weight of her revelations settled over him.

Mendax had devoured a portion of the Void Sea to help the five Rulers descend into the Abyss. He had killed Astraea, the Ruler of Order, for reasons Nyx herself didn’t understand. And when humanity needed the means to defend itself, he had stolen Nyx’s authority and used it to create the Gates and the System.

All without hesitation.

All without apparently asking permission.

Eden’s expression darkened.

"...What a bastard."

Nyx blinked.

It was perhaps not the sort of response she had expected from someone who had just learned the truth about a being capable of moving between realms at will.

Eden, however, had little interest in being diplomatic.

"He showed up when I was about to die, told me he knew me, gave me his authority, and sent me back in time. He made it seem like he was giving me a second chance because he admired my determination."

He let out a humorless laugh.

"And now you’re telling me that the same man casually murdered his own allies for their shared goals?"

Nyx considered his words.

"That is a rather simplified interpretation of—"

"Oh, I’m sorry. Did he ask you first before doing this?"

She fell silent.

Eden spread his hands.

"Because if he did, I would love to hear that part."

"He did not."

"Right."

Eden looked away.

"Then I think my interpretation is perfectly reasonable."

He had never been under the impression that Mendax was an ordinary being. Even their first encounter had made it clear that the man operated on a level far beyond anything Eden could comprehend.

Still, there was a difference between being powerful and being willing to do whatever one deemed necessary.

Eden understood the temptation.

But he had also never considered himself entitled to sacrifice anyone he pleased simply because he believed the result would be worthwhile.

Mendax apparently had no such reservations.

And that bothered Eden more than he wanted to admit.

"He made it seem as though he was helping me," Eden muttered. "As though there was some grand purpose behind my regression."

"There may be."

Eden turned toward Nyx.

She regarded him with a composed expression, though a trace of sadness lingered in her eyes.

"I cannot tell you why Mendax chose you. I do not know what he intends to accomplish, nor can I say whether his actions were motivated by compassion, necessity, or something else entirely."

She paused.

"But It appears that he has imprinted himself upon you."

Eden frowned.

"...Imprinted himself?"

"Yes."

Nyx raised one hand, and a faint image appeared in the white expanse between them. It resembled a human silhouette surrounded by intricate patterns of light, with a small, brilliant core glowing at its center.

"Every Ruler possesses a primordial authority. It is more than a skill or a collection of abilities. It is the essence of what that Ruler represents, the foundation upon which their existence and power are built."

The image changed.

The core of light expanded, spreading through the silhouette like roots through soil.

"When a Ruler imprints their authority upon another being, they pass on a portion of that primordial essence. The recipient becomes connected to the Ruler’s authority and begins to inherit its nature."

Eden stared at the image.

"So that’s what he meant when he said he’d grant me his authority."

He looked down at his hands.

For a moment, he remembered the crimson Essence that had swallowed him at the end of his first life. He remembered the sensation of something ancient entering his body, and the single word that had accompanied his regression.

’Gluttony.’

’Had that been the moment the imprint occurred?’

’Or had it begun even earlier?’

Eden couldn’t tell.

"What does that make me?" Eden asked.

Nyx lowered her hand.

"A Ruler in the works."

Eden looked up.

She continued without hesitation.

"A god in the making, if you prefer a simpler description."

A short silence stretched inside the white void.

Part of him had seen it coming, but having his theory confirmed made it no less absurd.

"I’m nineteen years old, and you’re telling me I’m going to become a god?"

"That is not quite what I said."

"You literally just called me a god in the making."

"Because that is what the imprint signifies. It does not mean that you have already become a Ruler, nor does it guarantee that you ever will."

Nyx tilted her head.

"Think of it as the beginning of a transformation. You have been given the foundation, but what you become from here depends on how that authority develops within you."

Eden rubbed his forehead.

"Right. Would be much easier if I actually knew what that Bastard’s authority is."

"Let me ask you something," he said. "If Mendax has imprinted his authority upon me, does that mean there’s a chance he could take control of my body eventually?"

Nyx’s expression softened.

"No."

The answer came quickly enough to surprise him.

"An imprint does not overwrite your consciousness or turn you into a puppet. It passes the Ruler’s authority to you, but it does not erase the person receiving it."

She paused.

"At least, that is not the purpose of an imprint."

Eden narrowed his eyes.

"That last part wasn’t particularly reassuring."

"I would rather be honest with you than offer false certainty. Every authority is different, and Mendax’s is one that nobody has ever fully understood."

She looked directly at him.

"But you need not assume that you will lose yourself simply because you carry his imprint. The authority is being passed down to you. It is not, by itself, an attempt to possess you."

Eden considered her words.

It was reassuring, in a way.

But it didn’t entirely dispel the unease he felt whenever he thought about Mendax.

Especially after the strange memory he had experienced.

’Wait...’

’If Mendax has imprinted his authority onto me, there might be a chance the other ruler’s might have done so aswell.’

"Looking at your expression, you’ve probably realizedut too," Nyx said.

Eden looked at her.

"What do you mean?"

Nyx folded her hands before her.

"I have also imprinted my authority upon another Awakened."

Eden stared at her.

"...You have?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"I’m afraid I cannot tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because I do not know whether that person wishes their identity to be revealed, and because the circumstances surrounding their imprint are not something I can explain to you at present."

Eden sighed.

"How..."

"Oddly inconvenient."

Nyx continued.

"And I believe Astraea, the Ruler of Order, has done the same."

Eden’s expression became thoughtful.

The Ruler Nyx claimed Mendax had killed.

The same Ruler whose tomb supposedly lay somewhere deep within the Abyss.

’If Astraea had imprinted an authority upon someone, what did that even mean?’

’Had the imprint occurred before her death?’

’Was the authority capable of surviving its original wielder?’

’Or was there something about the nature of a Ruler’s authority that I still don’t understand?’

He opened his mouth to ask.

Then the white expanse flickered.

Eden stopped.

A thin red line appeared in the distance.

At first, he thought it was a trick of the light. But another crack appeared beside it, followed by several more, spreading across the white scenery like fractures in glass.

Nyx’s expression changed.

The faint smile vanished from her face.

"...Already?"

Eden looked around.

"What is that?"

The cracks multiplied.

They stretched across the empty space, branching in every direction. A low, distorted sound reverberated through the void, as though something on the other side were attempting to break through.

Eden immediately reached for his Essence.

The familiar energy surged through his body, but he couldn’t identify the source of the disturbance.

It definitely wasn’t coming from Nyx.

Rather, it almost felt like it was coming from him.

Or, more precisely, from somewhere inside him.

His eyes narrowed.

"What’s happening?"

Nyx staggered.

For the first time since their conversation began, the Ruler of Sorcery looked genuinely exhausted. Her shoulders lowered, and her breathing became noticeably heavier.

She pressed one hand against her chest.

"It seems our time is up."