Chained

Twilight Manor generally didn't have much going on around it. Situated in a large estate privately owned by the Loki Familia, it served as more of an isolation spot for Loki's adventurers than just being neighbours to the Labyrinth City's northern-most folk. Still, those that cared to cast their eyes over to their front yard would most certainly catch at least somebody training or practising their combat skills. Not so much to the extent of the Freya Familia who conducted all-out bloody wars and deathmatches on their estate, but it was customary to see at least the grunts hard at work.

But for the past couple of weeks, no such thing nor any indication of it could be seen outside and within the manor. A solemn and sombre mood hung over the Loki Familia, many of whom were still mute with trauma from the incident a few months ago, the day their prospective most successful deep dive expedition was completely flipped on its head by the emergence of some titanic freak from the cesspits of the Dungeon's belly. A monster that had claimed many of their lives, and though they were restored by their prodigal member, they were deep in the folds of the aftershock and had withdrawn to their quarters, not stepping foot outside the Manor.

The Loki Familia had not been seen at any of the city's taverns either which was highly unusual and their absence did not go amiss by the citizens. Already many rumours were flying about the populace on what was going on behind closed doors. Only a handful of adventurers from their Familia were sighted in the Dungeon and even then, they were not seen to go beyond the 17th Floor.

So when Kratos dropped from the sky out of his flight path into the courtyard, he was greeted with emptiness and an eery silence, all of which he had become fast used to. Nothing really seemed to pull a joyous reaction out of the Loki Familia anymore, not even his timely ascent to Level 6 which finally put them on even footing with the Freya Familia. Perhaps that was because of the well-known inevitability that it wouldn't last very long. Once the year was up, it was undecided what would become of Kratos's fate but it certainly would no longer be with them.

His sensitive ears missed the roars of laughter and idle chatter that used to ring through the Manor's hallways. Now there were just murmurs and whispers, and the crackling of fires as people reclused themselves in their rooms, wrapped in blankets and focused on nothing but hot meals, drink and reminiscence and self-reflection. Finn was known to be holed up in his office, though everyone knew he was not pinned down by paperwork like he usually was since the Familia was not exactly active at the moment. Kratos knew that the incident had the Pallum second guessing many things. Finn was a Pallum leader, and one who took all the responsibility on himself and having been so powerless against Typhon had made the fearless captain come to a pause in his ambitions and seriously consider what he had been pushing himself and others to do.

Until that day, nobody in the Loki Familia really had any idea what the Zeus and Hera Familia must have felt when they faced down the Black Dragon. Now, they had a very good idea since they themselves were on the brink of just being swatted and squashed like flies. Tsubaki had retreated with her blacksmiths to the workshop district for Hephaestus's Familia and had not really been engaged in her contracts, but rather honing the battle skills of her Familia's combatants. The joint expedition with the Loki Familia had given the half-Dwarf a bit of a reality check, and had somehow secured firm support from Hephaestus behind Lyze, even if he didn't have her vote already.

Kratos shook off the snow from his shoulder rest and walked into the dark lobby of the Manor, the warmth inside instantly hitting him in the face with a sharp contrast to the chill of the outside world, though both sensations didn't really seem to bother him anymore. Ever since he'd become a special class adventurer, things like temperature extremes barely fazed him given his insane endurance and invulnerability. Sighing heavily at the absent joviality that once existed in the very atmosphere of the Manor, he made a slow and long walk up the stairs to his room, pausing briefly as he passed by Ais's door. He stood there for a couple of moments before he heard movement inside and then entered his own room.

Upon closing his door, he removed the blades from his back and hung them up crossed over one another on a nail in his wall. As he walked towards his bed, he peeled off the fur shoulder rest to reveal a heavy pauldron over his shoulders that were the same colour as the metal of his blades. With some effort, he lifted the whole thing off in one piece and set them down on the chest he kept at the end of his bed, followed by the unfastening of his vambraces and his chestplate. He then pulled off the tight under-tunic made from the Peluda skin he'd saved from their wrecked Dungeon trip.

Though they'd lost most of their spoils, there were still many things in his inventory that he'd managed to pull out upon waking up, which they'd then turned into the Guild exchange. Though the money the Familia received from that lucky save could not even compensate for the expenditure on their expedition, much less turn a profit, it stopped them from completely going bankrupt...barely.

With his upper half now exposed, Kratos turned towards his mirror and inspected himself as he did almost everyday.

Though he was now healed, the scars remained from his battles in the Dungeon. Most prominent was the healed gash in his stomach where he'd been run through by his mentor who'd just suddenly disappeared from his life and who'd not contacted him in months. All the same, it pleased him. The less Nekros was involved in his life, the better. For the past two months had been the most peaceful period there had ever been for him.

His eyes ran over his sculpted figure. Ironically, he looked like a carving of a Greek god, sporting a body that screamed with power through rippling striated muscles and not an ounce of fat anywhere on him. Every twitch made some kind of muscle bulge. His shoulders were large, his chest wide, his neck shaped bigger than a tree trunk, and the battle scars to prove he'd earnt this physique. But there was a new addition to the tapestry of his struggles. In addition to the scars, there burned into his forearms was the shape of chains, the very ones that seemed to just be produced in infinite supply by his flesh. Since Chaotic Force and Origin Energy had melded together to regenerate his lost arms in the battle with Typhon, and had fused the thus far unknown alloy of molten metals to his body, it seemed his arms were made of metal, down to his bones even though they were also still warm flesh.

The many upsides to this were that he could create any weapons with his hands, as demonstrated when he clenched his fist and three long black metal claws shot out from between his knuckles, eerily reminiscent of a popular superhero back from the childhood of his previous life.

There was also the upside of him never being able to lose those arms since the metal he made could even slice through re-enforced Orichalcum as proved by the many tests conducted by the zealous Hephaestus when she realized this new and particular ability of his. No weapon short of a divine nature could cut his arms off and his punches could land dozens of times heavier than they could with his actual bone arms, as Ottar could now attest to since their many spars in helping Kratos adjust to his new level. One of his punches could most definitely kill a level five if executed properly.

The downside was, his arms actually felt very heavy all the time, and he'd need to build considerable muscle in his forearms with weight exercises to even lift them properly. Then there was also the lack of sensation in his arms. Only his fingertips seemed to really feel anything but everything else in his arms seemed to feel like he'd been put under an anaesthetic which really got in the way of feeling around for his weapons. In order to really feel something, he had to give the sensation in his arms the same amount of concentration he did when meditating and that was a bothersome task.

Sheathing his iconic claws he looked down at the talismans hanging around his waist and sighed once again...not that he felt bad about what he did but at the absolute waste of potential adventurers he'd had to snuff out today. So much possibility for the greater good and yet another idiot had to go on his belt because of his crimes under Evilus. He walked backwards and sat down on his bed, focusing on measured breathing to calm himself down and lower the perpetual heat that seemed to emanate from within his body. With a soul now made of celestial fire and his blood now flowing with the Sacred Flame of Olympus, his body was like an ongoing furnace that seemed to heat up at even the slightest hint of negative emotion from him.

He twisted his neck about, releasing deep nasal breaths as multiple cracks and pops could be heard as he tried to get rid of the stiffness of his day. When he was satisfied, he stayed completely still and muttered one word.

"...{Cratus}."

Red flames poured out of his pores, though not setting fire to anything, and wrapped around him like a cocoon. After a brief flash, there sitting on the bed was none other than Lyzof Keele, as a child again.

No more donning a man's body, but more of a child's that was barely reaching five feet. Another key difference was that the burning golden eyes were gone too and in their place were calm yet mystifying purple ones that closed as Lyze let a long yawn as exhaustion fell over him. His alter ego had far more mental capacity to deal with the tiredness than he did. In this form, he was still victim to the mortal love of sleep. His outfit was also gone as part of his Kratos persona. Left behind was a deep red kilt with gold designs tied around his waist to cover his modesty and his feet dangled over the edge of the bed. His hair was also much longer now. No more did he have Arthur's exact hairstyle, and long black hair fell around his shoulders and upper back which he sometimes tied up with a hairband he'd borrow from one of the girls.

Lyze still had the same troubles as Kratos though as well as the same memories, and the same tendency to fall back into reminiscence himself as he tried to make sense of the past couple of months. In the beginning, it had been one hell of a bombshell after another as he discovered his new powers and became accustomed to his new weapons. Life had slowed down a bit thankfully since and had given him time to think and consider his developments, especially with his reputation amongst the public. Many worshipped him already since the information of his inevitable ascension to godhood was already out there by courtesy of loose lipped gods. Others simply admired him as a hero for defeating the most horrifying monster they'd ever seen. It was argued that at the peak of the battle, Typhon was definitely a bigger threat than the Black Dragon and it had taken the power of a god to destroy it. Then there were those who were villainising him, fearful of his growing power and influence in the city. Because as much debate as whether or not he or Ottar were the strongest single adventurer in the city, most of the people's opinions were in Lyze's favour, what with looming godhood and all.

On the whole, the sudden infamy and celebrity life left him without any real peace outside the confines of his home. Lyze supposed it was for the better good since the charities Freya had opened in his name were receiving copious donations now from sympathetic people who now felt some more compassion for the abandoned generation of children who were living in poverty and homelessness in the streets, particularly the Daedalus slums where he'd grown up. It wasn't exactly concealed knowledge now concerning where he came from. His increased status paired with the goodwill of his charity work as well as his religious extermination of Evilus camps had encouraged voices from his past to speak out from the slums and reveal his origins.

Thankfully the news was not received with nearly as much scrutiny as he'd been expecting. After all, many of the strongest adventurers to exist had come from hellish backgrounds as well, Ottar being a start who was known to have been found as a starved orphan by Freya on the brink of death. Perhaps the Boaz's existing story served to help temper the judgement of the people about Lyze.

His life on the surface had suddenly become so much more chaotic now, he hadn't even been visiting the Dungeon much lately.

Not that it really mattered if he wanted kicks from it. As a level 6, the Upper and Middle Floors were little more than a nuisance and with his exotic powers, the first section of the Deep Floors barely scaled as a challenge. The only way onwards was to keep going down, and with the current state of things, the Guild would definitely not allow him to do that lest he wanted his adventurer's license revoked...which was pretty much the summary of all of Royman's fancy words when Lyze was summoned for an advisory hearing. The fat elf was all too keen to use Lyze's newfound popularity for the best of his political interest...but as much as Lyze would have like, he couldn't exactly decapitate the Guild Master. Otherwise the power structure in Orario would definitely melt down, and all foreign relations would just dissolve instantly. Dislikeable as Royman was, Orario in its current state could not function without him. So Lyze complied with the lawmakers for now.

Still, all these giant leaps were unsettling...

He reached over to his nightstand and pulled open the drawer. From inside, he withdrew two sheets of paper. The first one never failed to raise his eyes even though he'd seen it so many times already.

---

Lyzof Keele

Level: 3

STR: 27123 EX 

END: 28585 EX

DEX: 23663 EX

AGI: 25114 EX

MAG: 49745 EX

---

This was the first bombshell that had landed on him when Loki put it in his hand after he woke from his coma. Needless to say, it was a secret kept only within the top Familia officials. Not even Noir, Bara or Dane knew about this or the existence of the EX rank. Such a revelation would cause more trouble than was worth dealing with, and so it was kept under lock and key. But apparently such an outstanding status update warranted three instantaneous level ups when Loki came around to doing so.

Bringing him to the next sheet.

---

Lyzof Keele

Level: 6

STR: 0 I

END: 0 I

DEX: 0 I

AGI: 0 I

MAG: 0 I

---

Of course, perhaps this newest sheet would look much different now if Loki did a status update, but Lyze doubted anything would actually work now. As a special class adventurer, even he could feel the notoriety in hardship that it was to rank up your stats. A life threatening battle was not warrant enough for the executives to level up as well, and so for the first time ever in the Loki Familia, the executives were no longer the leading party in raw power in the Familia.

Lyze alone was enough now to take on all three of them and win in his normal state, let alone his power-ups. He was the most broken fighter in Orario now...in more ways than one.

Sighing to himself again, he folded the two sheets up in his hand and tossed them back in the draw and covered his face with both hands as he just let the mental exhaustion weigh in on him again. The events of the day was good enough a distraction to take his mind off the reality he had to deal with. As much as he knew his Familia around him was trying to hold it altogether, he knew just as well that they were struggling on the inside. To learn you were fighting alongside someone who had the potential to become a deity who also could resurrect people and at the same time snatch the souls of others away...it was craziness beyond even the minds of superhumans' to just process casually.

And so Lyze would take his mind as well as that of everybody else's off the topic by conducting investigations into Evilus...just as he was tasked to do...

---

"We finally meet." A wizened old man stared down from the altar upon which he sat to a young man dressed in a cloak. "Though I wish it had been under more pleasant circumstances."

"Nobody has any reason to come down here unless it is for an unpleasant reason." The young man replied, burning golden eyes bore into the one of the old man's. "We'll skip past the sweet talk and get straight to the point. Half the damn counsel wants me gone, and the other half wants me dead. I only have a few real supporters and it's only my luck that they're the most powerful ones. That being said, I hear you've settled on a solution, Ouranos."

"Very well." The Primordial said as he leant back in his throne. "While you are correct, those are the wishes of most amongst the Denatus, their votes say much otherwise. You understand now that your time in the Loki Familia is limited correct, Kratos?"

"Yeah, yeah, Olympian shit and all that." Kratos replied, rolling his eyes. "So what's gonna happen? You are willing to just take me in out of your good graces and golden heart?"

"No." Ouranos replied. "And on a sidenote, it is you who claimed an Olympian name. This pain you feel is nothing more than a consequence of your own doing."

"I claimed it out of convenience at the time." Kratos said. "But I still reserve my right to free will. I'm staying where I am."

"What has been put in motion by your hands must now run its course." Ouranos sighed. "Try to obstruct it and the world will descend into Chaos."

"I notice the highlight in your words there." Kratos grimaced. "Any particular reason why?"

"You tell me." Ouranos eyed him. "Anyways, you shall soon understand the importance and the weight of being a god...even one as minor as a god in the making. Because I see my words will not reach you. Now that there is an outlet, a title for your power to fill, it's only a matter of time before the path you've carved out for yourself is walked on by your feet."

"I've lost majority of my divine power." Kratos protested. "The sword took it all with it when it disappeared into who-knows-where."

"And I would compel you to look for it, lest it fall into the wrong hands." Ouranos said. "There are others out there who know exactly what it is and they will stop at nothing to possess it. But enough of that for now. It has been decided that Loki will keep you for now...not as a Child, but as a ward."

"Meaning?" Kratos raised a brow.

"Meaning she is only going to take care of you for now." The old god replied. "Until you find a suitable Olympian god. But in being a ward, you no longer only serve the interests of the Loki Familia."

"So who are my other 'masters' then?"

"The government. In being a ward, it is our responsibility to make sure a wild card such as you acts accordingly. Which also puts you in our employ, making you an agent of our agenda."

"Ultimately your agenda." Kratos snorted. "Spit it out you senile fool. What do you want from me?"

"All in good time." Ouranos said. "But for starters, I know how much you hate evildoers, and I am aware how you are one of few willing to go just that far enough to get a job done...no matter how bloody your hands get."

Kratos narrowed his eyes. "How do you know this?"

"I have my sources." Ouranos said. "In recent times, a certain organisation has slowly crept out of the underworld and seeing as how our once legendary adventures are no longer here to hold them at bay, they feel like they can do as they please. I understand you have a history with them."

"Loosely..." Kratos said measuredly. "...your point being?"

"If you want to remain an adventurer, you will need to put back into the community more than the taxes we impose on you for your monster spoils." The old man leant forward. "I hear you're a good hunter...how much does Evilus come across as potential quarry for you?"

---

...and thus he was practically enslaved. Resemblant of his namesake. Lyze had spent the past couple of months doing just that, and while he had most certainly rattled a few nests, he was no closer now to ruffling the feathers of the big birds than he was two months ago. Evilus's leaders were so much concealed behind false names, pawns and obscurity, it was hard to even start an investigation with setting off an alarm that rang all across the underworld food chain. And if they could put small time gods out there like Morpheus as bait and a distraction for him, it meant that the leaders were pretty powerful in public too.

In clearing out the producers of the narcotic 'Nightmare', several other drug rings were in the wind, ones that also had whispers of potential trafficking hanging around them. It was a never ending cycle.

Sometimes Lyze just considered using the Blades of Chaos to just cleave the city in two to reveal all the dirty hidden layers so they could be flushed out properly. Unfortunately, that also risked uncapping the Dungeon and that was no good risk to take seeing as he'd already torn a hole into it elsewhere, though that hole was now gone too.

It seemed that with more power, there just came that much more responsibilities as the cherry on top.

...

A soft knock at his door brought him out of his musings and instead spread a smile across his face. The knock itself told him who was at his door.

"Come in." He said as gently as he could.

Barely a second passed before it opened and a familiar blond in her nightwear came inside and closed the door behind her. Ais paused for a moment to stare up at the hanging blades before she walked over to him and sat beside him on the bed. A moment's silence passed before she turned to look at him.

"Did you find them?" She asked simply.

"...no." He replied. "But at least there's less bad guys running around now...right?"

"Hm." She nodded before looking hesitant a moment. Lyze got the message, and wrapped an arm around her. Immediately she melted into his embrace, burying her face into the space between his shoulder and his chest while he rested his cheek on her head.

A few more moments passed before she looked up into his eyes, and they leaned towards each other's faces, their lips locking in a gentle innocent kiss. Nothing more than an expression and acceptance of their feelings towards one another for now. Because Lyze was not going to be vague and dishonest on that front anymore.

It was like a ritual at this point. Ais had not been in the Dungeon since the incident...not out of any visible trauma as far as he could see but at this point, he didn't know what he was seeing. All he knew was that he would rip out each continent and throw them into damn space if it meant he would never again have to see her lifeless body hanging limp.

But as long as he had her to come home to, as well as his friends and family...he could put up with the rat chase...for just a little while longer.

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