Awakening the Gods: System's Ascension

An Unwanted Prophecy

Memories.

People often say they’re the threads that stitch our identity together — the compass pointing us toward who we are and who we’ve been. They call them keys… to purpose, to growth, to pain. The map to what we’ve lost. The anchor to what we’ve loved.

But for Levi… there was no key. No thread. No map. Just blank space.

If someone asked him to describe life before waking up at the orphanage, he couldn’t. Not because of some deep-seated trauma, or a willful attempt to forget — but simply because there was nothing there. A void. Like his story only began halfway through the book.

And those who were aware of this fact all died in the apocalypse.

So when the woman standing in front of him mentioned his lost memories, he could only be at a loss for words.

His eyes widened. His pulse quickened. He couldn’t hide it.

“You seem... shocked,” the woman said gently, her tone calm — as if she had expected it. “Well, that only makes sense. I’d be shocked too… if I were in your shoes.”

Kyle’s brow furrowed, his head shifting between the woman and Levi.

Violet leaned forward slightly, her voice filled with uncertainty. “Wait… what do you mean by forgotten memories?”

The woman tilted her head slightly, letting her gaze move from Levi to the others.

“I see,” she murmured. Her eyes softened. “So you really haven’t told them anything.”

Levi said nothing. He couldn’t. His thoughts were tangled and spinning too fast.

“For now,” the woman continued, her voice rising just enough to recenter the room, “let’s leave that aside. There’s something more important we need to discuss — the real reason I asked them to bring you here.”

She gestured lightly toward Zenon and Emilia, who stood at the side with blank expressions, like statues made of silence.

“I’m sure you have questions,” she added.

Kyle threw up his hands, exasperated. “A lot of questions, actually.”

Violet stepped forward, arms folded. “Like why we’re here in the first place.”

Kyle followed up, pointing toward the captains. “And what does that mean? Zenon said Emilia is his sister — since when?!”

Violet blinked and quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, realizing how loud she’d gotten.

Kyle glanced at her, then as if coming to a realization, he immediately did the same.

The woman’s lips curled into a faint smile — not mocking, but like a teacher watching students slowly piece things together.

She glanced over her shoulder, settling on Zenon and Emilia.

“I thought you made this public,” she said, her tone more like a quiet scolding than an accusation.

Zenon responded with a small shrug, but it was Emilia who spoke, arms folded tightly. "That's not important now, is it?"

As they exchanged words, Levi remained silent.

It wasn’t because he didn’t have questions — he had too many to count — but there was something else.

A feeling.

Ever since this woman entered the room, a strange calm had washed over him. Like the noise inside his head had been dimmed. A noise he wasn't even aware existed. Like he could finally breathe again.

No alarms. No dread. No heaviness in his chest. Just a quiet peace.

The sudden pop-up of a blue screen beside him barely startled him, snapping him out of his calm daze.

[Reward Granted – A Fateful Encounter Has Taken Place]

His eyes narrowed as he read the text.

A fateful encounter...?

He glanced at Violet, at Kyle. Then at the woman. Was this encounter what the System had been steering him towards all along?

Had it known Zenon and Emilia would bring him here? Or… was it simply reacting to something greater than all of them?

“Just popped up now, didn’t it?”

Levi blinked. Lyra’s voice cut into his thoughts, precise and eerily well-timed.

“You can see it?” he asked, his mouth left partially open and voice laced with surprise.

She let out a small laugh, almost amused by the question. “No, no. I can’t see it. But I can feel it. Like a ripple in still water.”

She walked a few steps forward, her presence never losing that warm, disarming quality — like sunlight breaking through a cold winter morning.

“And from that, I can tell... That thing was designed by that Primordial,” she added with a casualness that only made her words more bizarre.

“Primordial?” Levi wondered aloud, brows furrowing.

She didn’t answer. Or maybe she thought she had.

Levi sighed and rubbed his temples. “This isn’t going anywhere,” he muttered, his voice low with fatigue. “Every answer just leads to more questions. Can we please just… start from the beginning? Why did you bring me here?”

“Violently, I might add,” Kyle chipped in, shooting a side glance at Emilia.

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” Lyra said with a small apologetic smile as she turned to Emilia. “I didn’t expect her to go that far.”

She paused. “Well… I did, but not that far.”

Emilia simply rolled her eyes and looked away.

Then Lyra’s expression shifted. The lightness drained, replaced by a solemn look. She straightened her posture and folded her hands in front of her.

“My name is Lyra,” she said slowly. “Lyra Starfall.”

The room felt suddenly felt heavier, even though her voice hadn’t risen.

“I’m not sure how else to explain who I am properly,” she continued. “But… many know me as the Supreme Ruler of Astrovia.”

The silence that followed was instant — and complete. Even the wind seemed to stop flowing.

"Wait... what?" Kyle muttered jaw dropped slightly and Violet blinked in disbelief.

Astrovia’s political system was strange. At least compared to Earth’s, if one could still count Earth’s as anything more than scorched ruins and fractured survivors.

Unlike Earth, where nations fought endlessly over borders and flags, Astrovia was divided into vast continents—each governed by a central ruler or council of elite leaders. But even those leaders bent the knee to something—or rather, someone—higher.

At the very top sat a being no one had ever seen.

A goddess, they said. A being of such terrifying power that she could wipe out all of existence with a flick of her fingers, if she so wished.

She was known only by one title: The Supreme Ruler of Astrovia.

How ever, there were also rumors that she didn’t exist. That the councils had invented her—an unseen symbol to justify their own unchecked power.

But if that was true,

Then who was standing right in front of them now, claiming such a position?

Kyle couldn’t speak. His throat had gone dry the moment she said the name.

Violet’s hand clutched her hoodie, knuckles white, heart racing. Just hours ago, they’d met two of Astrovia’s highest-ranking captains.

And now this.

She? The gentle individual in front of them was was the top of the food chain?

Levi, on the other hand, didn’t know any of that. He’d never thought to ask about Astrovia’s political structure. He was never the type to dive into topics like that on his own interest.

Additionally, the Supreme Ruler was not a casual conversation topic. No one spoke her name lightly. Most didn’t speak it at all.

But as Levi glanced at the stunned expressions on Kyle and Violet’s faces—mirroring the same wide-eyed disbelief they wore when Zenon and Emilia first appeared—he knew.

This woman wasn’t normal. And her title only confirmed the guesses he had in mind.

Still, none of that explained why she was here.

And more importantly—why him?

Lyra’s voice flowed in again, cutting softly through the silence like the first drop of rain.

“As for the reason we brought you here…” she began, her gaze fixated on Levi. “It’s simple, really. Your power. You have a power that might as well decide—”

“No.”

The word cut through the air like a whip. Everyone turned to Levi.

He was no longer seated. His bare feet hit the cold floor as he took a slow step back, shaking his head, eyes wide but with something other than surprise.

“No, no, no…” he muttered again, his voice rising in volume and disbelief. “I already know where this is going.”

"Played enough fantasy games to understand..."

He raised a hand toward Lyra, not accusingly, but like he needed something to hold what she was about to say.

“What’s next?” he asked bitterly. “I’m supposed to save the universe or something?”

He let out a harsh, humorless laugh. “Please. No.” His voice cracked at the end, but he didn’t care.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he said, fists clenched at his sides now. “I didn’t sign up for your fate-of-the-world mission. And I sure as hell don’t want to hear about some ancient prophecy or responsibility I never agreed to.”