His mother's final words echoed in his mind: "Powers that no one has ever seen."
As Xylo's tears hit the stone, the blood on the floor didn't soak into the wood; it began to flow toward him, tracing intricate, glowing symbols on the floorboards. The room dissolved. The walls of his apartment melted into a void of swirling stardust and infinite shadows.
Standing in the center of the void was a throne of obsidian. And upon it sat a man whose presence felt like a collapsing star.
Augustino Zenorth.
The 13th God didn't look like the statues of the "Holy" Twelve. He was draped in shadows, and his eyes held the weight of ten thousand years of waiting.
"Xylo Zenorth," Augustino's voice boomed, sounding like thunder muffled by a deep sea. "My successor. My blood."
Xylo stumbled back, his heart racing. "Who are you? My mother... she's..."
"She knew this day would come. She was the last guardian of a secret the Heavens tried to burn," Augustino rose from his throne, the shadows around him coiling like serpents. "It is time for you to know the truth, Xylo. The truth behind the 'accidents' that took your father. The truth behind the 12 Agencies that rule your world with lies. And the truth of the power that burned within me—which now seeks a home in you."
Augustino reached out, his hand glowing with a dark, violet light. "They call us the 13th error. They call us the Curse. But we are the Ophiuchus—the ones who hold the scales when the gods become tyrants."
With a single touch to Xylo's forehead, the memories of the Great Betrayal, the slaughter of the Zenorth family through the ages, and the true nature of the "Celestial Mandate" flooded into Xylo's brain.
Augustino's smile was sharp, like a blade reflecting the moon. As the cold, heavy pressure of the void began to swirl around Xylo, the ancient King's form started to turn into wisps of violet smoke.
"That's it, Xylo Zenorth," Augustino whispered, his voice vibrating in Xylo's very marrow. "Let the weight of the stars settle in your veins. Today, the 13th God is born again. I bestow upon you the mantle of Ophiuchus."
Suddenly, a searing heat burned into Xylo's chest. A mark—a serpent coiling around a dark sun—etched itself onto his skin.
"But heed my warning," Augustino's eyes turned deadly serious. "This power is not a tool. It is a living abyss. It will crave dominance. It will try to seize the authority of your mind. If you falter, you will not be a King—you will be a monster. Control it, or be consumed by it."
With a final wave of his hand, Augustino manifested two items that hovered before Xylo:
The Star-Glass Map: A shimmering, translucent parchment that didn't show modern roads, but pulsed with the location of a forgotten fortress—Augustino's ancient castle, hidden between dimensions.
The Key of the Void: A heavy, obsidian pendant that felt colder than ice. "This will call my weapons when you are ready to bleed for them," Augustino said.
"Go now, my successor. The 12 can smell the change in the wind. The hunt has truly begun."
The void shattered.
Back to Reality
Xylo gasped, his eyes snapping open. He was back on the floor of his apartment. The blood was still there. The tragedy was still real.
But he was different. The "Normal" boy who was rejected by every Agency now felt a terrifying, rhythmic thrumming in his heart. It felt like a dragon waking up in a cage.
Outside, the sound of heavy boots hit the pavement. Black SUVs with the Leo Agency crest skidded to a halt in front of his building.
"Target located," a voice crackled from a radio outside his door. "The woman is neutralized. Secure the boy. The High Kings want no traces of the 13th bloodline left by morning."
Xylo stood up. He didn't feel the fear he had felt two hours ago. He looked at the door, and for the first time, he saw the "golden" light of the Agency through the walls—not as divine, but as flickering, weak candles compared to the sun now burning inside him.
"You wanted a trace?" Xylo whispered, his shadow beginning to stretch and sharpen like a serrated blade. "I'll give you a legacy."