One inhale, and he knew something had changed.
His body felt lighter. Stronger. Like the limits that used to be there… weren't anymore. His thoughts sharpened, every movement felt cleaner, tighter. Not faster. Not louder. Just better. Like something inside had clicked into place.
He didn't glow. The air didn't crackle.
But he felt it. And that was enough.
That quiet power in him? Yeah, that part was expected. After all, he'd just devoured a sliver of Fate's own essence. If that didn't come with a massive boost, then the cosmos was straight-up rigged.
But what Pyris didn't expect—what made his brows knit and his chest tighten—was that even a taste of that cosmic force had flung him down a new path entirely.
A path toward becoming someone who could devour Fate itself.
What the hell did that even mean?
He didn't know.
Not yet.
But what he did know was this—
There was something inside him now.
A hunger.
