Shadow slave: In The Eye of The Beholder

Silas joined the line of Sleepers, still contemplating the two peculiar figures he had observed earlier. As they were ushered into the vast ceremonial hall, the weight of the moment pressed down on him. The room fell into a hushed silence as a giant of a man stepped onto the stage.

Clad in a dark blue uniform, he was an imposing figure—his massive frame barely contained by the fabric, broad shoulders straining beneath the material. His well-kept beard and calm, serious eyes commanded immediate respect. Silas smirked inwardly. If it weren't for his uniform, the man might have passed as a descendant of some long-forgotten predator, maybe a bear-type Nightmare Creature.

The man introduced himself as Awakened Rock. His deep, rumbling voice filled the hall as he began his speech about the Spell and the challenges that awaited them. But Silas barely listened. He knew the basics—fragments of knowledge pieced together from the Awakened scientists around him, the same ones who had conducted experiments on the Spell and its many secrets. Instead, his mind drifted back to the absurd idea of whether Rock was hiding some kind of beastly nature beneath his human exterior.

With that thought lingering, Silas's pupils shifted, sharpening into polygonal shapes as he activated [Souls Sight].

He cast his gaze over the crowd. The usual brightness of soul cores greeted him—the radiant, pulsing essence of the Sleepers around him, pure but dim compared to the Awakened like Rock, whose core brimmed with strength. The light of their souls was clear, untainted by corruption. But as he let his gaze wander, something strange caught his attention.

Among the many glowing cores, one was completely dark. Not dim, not flickering—black as a void. It stood out, a perfect absence of light amidst the vibrant souls around it.

Silas's pulse quickened. 'What in the world…? A Nightmare Creature?' The thought flashed in his mind. But as he studied the dark core further, he realized it wasn't like the corrupted souls of the terrors. There was no foulness, no sense of decay. Instead, it was as if the core was wrapped in shadows, silent and still, concealing its true nature.

Unable to tear his eyes away, Silas felt a strange pull toward the void-like soul. Whatever lay beneath that blackness, it wasn't normal. And yet, no one else seemed to notice. Everyone around him continued to listen, unaware of the anomaly in their midst.

Reluctantly, Silas released [Souls Sight], his vision snapping back to normal. The dim outlines of the room returned, the soul cores fading from view. But the mystery lingered in his mind. He peered over the heads of the Sleepers, trying to spot the person attached to that eerie core.

It didn't take long. The boy stood short and unassuming, pale with messy black hair, barely noticeable amidst the crowd. He looked disinterested in the speech, his attention wandering in and out.

Silas's chest tightened as he realized it was the same boy from before—the one with the devilish grin and the dried blood beneath his nose. The one who had seemed insane, giggling quietly to himself in the corner.

Silas could only guess the reasons for his abstract core, although he didn't have much time to ponder as instructor rocks voice brought him back to reality. 

"That is all for today. Next, follow the instructions sent to your communicators to find your assigned dormitory. Once settled, you may proceed to the cafeteria for some late supper. There will be a round of interviews after that, to prepare your suggested curriculums. Get a good night's rest. Your training starts tomorrow."

With that, he gave them a short nod and left

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Silas had made his way to his room, after following instructions on a communicator he had received from one of the workers, arriving Infront of the destination of his housing. 

The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a modest yet comfortable space. A bed with a firm but inviting mattress stood against the wall, accompanied by a sleek table and a simple dresser. There was even a separate bathroom—clean, functional, and far more luxurious than anything Silas had expected. The walls were smooth, the air felt fresh, and a concealed screen on one side projected the illusion of a large window, offering a view of a sunlit meadow swaying in the breeze.

Silas blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden change in environment. He'd spent so long in the outskirts—where makeshift bedding and cold, cramped spaces were the norm—that this room felt like a luxury beyond his wildest dreams.

Several neatly folded uniforms, each emblazoned with the Academy emblem, were laid out on the dresser. Everything seemed new, untouched, the scent of sterilized air hanging faintly in the background.

'This is extravagant,' Silas mused, unable to shake the feeling of disbelief.

Though he understood that by most standards, the room wasn't anything too special, to him it was a palace. The soft glow of artificial lights, the perfectly regulated temperature—it all seemed too pristine, too comfortable for someone like him.

'About a month huh, I'll have to enjoy the place while I can' Silas mused.

He paced around the room, interacting with the various items that the academy had given, from branded pens to decorations that filled the space, attempting to pump it with the personality that it had lacked. 

Among the trinkets was a small box that contained a couple of marbles, Silas did not know why the designer decided to place the marbles in a room made for a sleeper, but he did not argue, picking up the marbles in his hands he paced back to his bed and sat on the combatable mattress. 

Silas had some time before supper so he might as well delve into his aspect, he had been occupied with some matters recently, so he hadn't really the time to explore it. 

So, he reached in his soul and activated [Beholders Eye] colours exploding in his irises, his room was lacking the strings due to its serene silence, Silas tried to gaze at his own strings but failed to notice the ethereal threads, he was allowed to see the fate of the entire world around him but left only to guess to his own destiny. 

Silas let out a sigh as he manoeuvred the marbles in his palm, reading his arm as he prepared to toss one up, but to his Suprise a string emerged from his palm and into the air, before landing at its destination on the floor. 

Silas looked at the string and hesitated for a moment, the slight bit of strength he had fading, the string in response faltering downward before evaporating, he let the observation sink in, as possible 

A smirk reached his face as excitement sprouted within him, 

'So, I can't see my own fate, but I can see the affects my actions have on fate.'

nd. He flicked his wrist, and the marble soared through the air, trailing a thread of fate behind it like the tail of a graceful dove. But before the first could complete its descent, Silas reached for a second projectile.

A second thread began to form, its trajectory slightly off. With the context of the first string in mind, Silas adjusted his wrist and shoulder ever so slightly, aligning the two paths. The first marble was still falling, caught in the fraction of a second he had left to act.

With precision, Silas released the second marble. It flew true, dead on course toward the first.

Clink.

The marbles touched mid-air, the soft sound almost imperceptible, yet in Silas's eyes, it was the quiet symphony of fate aligning. Threads of golden light wove between them, their paths altered by the delicate interaction of forces, following these newly formed lines until both marbles hit the ground with a faint thud.

Silas, caught up in the moment, continued tossing more marbles into the air. His hand moved with practiced ease, each throw guided by the predictive threads of [Beholder's Eye]. It was no small feat for someone to hit a falling object mid-air with another projectile, let alone do so consistently. Normally, one would have to account for form, strength, spin, and gravity—all while hoping the rough estimate was correct.

But for Silas, the strings made it easy. Each golden thread showed him exactly where the marbles would fall. Every time, his aim was true. He never missed.

As the marbles clattered to the floor and Silas lay back on the bed, empty-handed, a flood of possibilities overwhelmed his thoughts.

The threads were more than just a tool for spotting danger. They could give him mastery over movement, showing him the exact results of his actions before they even occurred. He could adjust, plan, and strike with pinpoint precision.

Every attack, every throw, could be honed to perfection, guided by the unseen strings of fate. What took most Awakened years of training to achieve, he had gained in an instant.

But it wasn't just accuracy that surged through him. The revelation went deeper, into the core of his being, where [Vile Stalk], the Tier Six Awakened bow from the terror, resided. Silas hadn't yet trained to wield it with proficiency, but now he held a powerful advantage.

A grin spread across his face as distant joy bloomed within him.

He could use his gift to guide the bow's arrows with deadly precision. Whether his enemies hid behind cover or fled in frantic escape, he would always know where his arrows would land. He could arch them high to rain down on heads or send them whistling through the air to intercept those trying to evade him.

With this newfound power, Silas understood one simple truth: his arrows were destined by fate to hit their mark.

Motivation surged through him, pulling Silas off the bed and onto the floor. As the door slid open, he stepped forward, ready to confront the mysteries of his abilities.

Though he was due for a meal at the cafeteria, the allure of unraveling more about his aspect—especially [Guiding Tapestry]—was too strong to resist. He had only scratched the surface of its potential, and the desire to delve deeper burned within him.

Silas strode out of his room with newfound purpose, his vision filling with the golden threads of passersby, each one a unique path in the vast web of fate.

Curiosity sparked as he brushed his hand against one of the ethereal strings, feeling a subtle shift ripple through his mind.

It was the first of many threads to explore, and Silas felt a thrill run down his spine, knowing he had only just begun to truly understand the strings.