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Unwritten Mythos

From the moment a life-giving planet begins its rotation, it becomes a silent witness to the ebb and flow of countless civilizations. Empires rise from the dust only to crumble back into it. Species emerge, thrive, and vanish into the annals of forgotten time. Through relentless storms, volcanic cataclysms, and the shifting of continents, the world continues its tireless cycle, indifferent to the fleeting lives upon its surface. Nothing in its grand design remains eternal. Change is the only constant, as the very essence of existence is shaped by upheaval. In this crucible of adversity, where nature’s wrath tests the resilience of life, only those who evolve—who embrace the necessity of transformation—can stand at the precipice of survival. To endure is to adapt. To adapt is to conquer. And only through this relentless evolution can one grasp at the elusive thread of perfect victory.

Litch_Mei · Urban
Not enough ratings
100 Chs

Battle on the Dome

Beiling City.

A great vortex churned in the sky over Asia, a storm heralding its descent. The heavens rumbled, yet the city below remained eerily still, the streets as silent as a forgotten grave. Atop a towering building, Mei stood tall, hands clasped behind her back, the wind whipping her suit into a frenzy. Her gaze stretched over the empty streets, untouched by the usual bustle. It was as if the city had been warned—its inhabitants vanished, leaving only the quiet hum of anticipation.

The storm howled above, tugging at the loose ends of her tie, which danced in the wind before finally slipping away into the maelstrom. Mei didn't bother to retrieve it.

"So quiet," she murmured, the silence pressing in on her like a living thing. Her gloved fingers slipped into her pockets, a faint smile curling beneath her mask. 

In the distance, the Kitsune group had arrived. They moved like shadows against the horizon, a dark mass of fully armed soldiers, forming ranks. By Mei's count, there were at least two full divisions—thirty thousand strong, all bristling with weapons, their presence casting a solemn weight over the scene.

Mei's smile deepened. "All great deeds require sacrifice. The creatures of this world may not understand, but they must obey." Her voice carried a chilling certainty, cutting through the storm. "A god's arrival has long been foretold. Whether they name me a disaster or a devil is irrelevant. The truth needs no explanation."

She let the wind carry her words into the void before she tilted her head slightly, as if listening to something only she could hear. "How do you feel about this, Enko?"

As if in response, the low thrum of helicopter blades echoed through the sky. A figure descended from above, landing softly on the rooftop before her. Enko, dressed in a black suit, stood tall, his coat flaring out in the wind like dark wings.

"I'm here to negotiate, Fateweaver," he said, his tone measured, though his eyes flickered with tension.

Mei's lips curled into a smirk. "If you're here to discuss our last encounter, you should've brought another bomb."

Enko's expression remained impassive, his voice steady. "The bomb was fake. Surely, you didn't expect me to use something so crude again?"

Mei's eyes glinted beneath her mask. "And yet, here you are. You must be brave or foolish to face me so unprepared."

"I told you," Enko replied calmly, "I'm here to negotiate."

His gaze locked with hers, unflinching. "If I'm not mistaken, you plan to take Beiling City. Use its citizens as leverage to force the Kitsune into surrender. Isn't that right?"

Mei's smile lingered, her silence inviting him to continue.

"We're willing to withdraw from Beiling. In exchange, you release half of the city's population. That's our only condition."

Mei's eyes narrowed, though she remained still, her mind already calculating. Release half, keep half. She could take the city with minimal effort, still holding hostages as leverage. It sounded like a fair deal.

But her instincts flared. When offered such advantageous terms, one must always ask—why?

The Kitsune, known for their ruthless precision, would not be so lenient. Saving half of Beiling's citizens? It didn't fit their nature. Such mercy might be common abroad, but here, in Asia? It smelled of deceit.

Mei pondered the possibility. A trap? A ploy to lull her into complacency?

Her brows furrowed beneath her mask as the thought solidified. "How did you know I intended to seize the entire city?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous. "Who told you?"

Enko met her gaze, his face unreadable. "You call yourself the Fateweaver, yet you didn't foresee this? Those who claim to control fate will always find themselves ensnared by it."

At that moment, the air around Enko shimmered. From the shadows emerged a legion of humanoid puppets, clad in suits like soldiers of a forgotten age. They stood, not hidden, but visible—an ominous presence.

Mei chuckled softly, the sound almost drowned by the storm. "Ah... 'Those who play with fate will eventually be played by it.' How quaint. Let's see what surprises fate has in store."

Her eyes glinted, considering the possibilities. Weapons of mass destruction? Could they dare use them in the heart of the city? Though this area was evacuated, the surrounding districts remained populated.

No, perhaps not something so grand. But a smaller scale? That, they could attempt.

Mei glanced down at her body, noting with a touch of dry amusement that a single missile strike would likely reduce her to nothing more than ashes. But that was a trivial detail, barely worth her concern.

What truly piqued her curiosity was how Enko and his forces had managed to identify her so quickly, how they knew not only her identity but the exact location she had chosen. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that she had left some clue or had been tracked by satellite, but her real plan—the full scope of it—was still hidden in the tangled web of her threads. Kidnapping the entire Beiling City?That was absurd. Even the sharpest minds would struggle to imagine a scheme of such scale.

Unless... someone could see the future.

The thought slid into Mei's mind like a knife. It made sense. If someone had glimpsed the future, then they could have made these preparations well in advance. That would explain how they seemed to know so much, even her most well-guarded secrets.

Mei's lips curled into a smile beneath her mask. "Let me guess," she mused aloud, her voice carrying through the wind. "None of you are clairvoyants, are you? Or perhaps, you're someone from the future, reincarnated with knowledge of all my moves. Maybe both?"

She watched closely as Enko's face twisted, a flicker of something flashing in his eyes—uncertainty, perhaps? Or fear?

"Ah," Mei chuckled softly, her tone mocking. "It seems I guessed right. But how much did I guess correctly? Care to share? I'm quite curious about the future myself."

Enko's hand twitched, his composure cracking just slightly. He tried to steady himself but failed to hide the truth. "Yes, you guessed right," he admitted, his voice low. "One among us can see the future."

Mei's smile widened. "Oh? So you plan to rely on this glimpse of fate to win, do you?" 

A future-seer? That wasn't good. If they'd seen their victory already, their confidence made sense. It meant they had foreseen a path to triumph, one in which Mei fell.

For the first time, Mei's mind flickered with the thought of retreat. Should I withdraw?

Her body tensed, ready to vanish into the shadows, but then she hesitated. Wait... Something felt off. 

Could this all be a trick? she wondered. A bluff, meant to unsettle me? If they had truly foreseen their victory, why hadn't they struck yet? What were they waiting for?

Her thoughts raced, but before she could act, Enko suddenly lunged forward. With a swift, unexpected kick, he aimed for Mei's face.

Reacting in a heartbeat, Mei tugged at her thread, and one of her puppets leaped forward, grabbing Enko's ankle in midair. "Aren't we negotiating terms?" she said, her tone dripping with amusement. "What happened to that?"

Enko's jaw clenched, his face twisted with frustration. He kicked the puppet away with brute force and surged toward Mei again, his voice full of grim determination.

"Talk? This time, we'll talk with our fists!"