Solo Ascension

Loneliness

CLICK! FLASH! CLICK!

The silence outside the A-Rank gate was deafening. Flashbulbs from the reporters’ cameras froze the scene in white light. Damon Silverstar stood in the center, his midnight black coat lingering slightly in the cold night breeze. At his feet an impossible thing rested, a S-Rank Abyssal core, emitting a suffocating, dark aura that made the armed Association guards take a step backward.

Killian remained sprawled in the mud. His silver armor, usually so pristine and heroic, was covered in brown filth. He looked like a cornered rat, his eyes darting frantically between the S-Rank core and Damon’s healed right leg.

"F-Fake!" Killian shrieked, his voice cracking. He pointed a trembling, mud stained finger at the black gemstone. "It has to be a fake! An F-Rank trash like him couldn't even scratch an S-Rank anomaly! He stole it! Or... or it's a prop! He's trying to scam the Association!"

Captain Sato of the Awakened Association ignored the screaming swordsman. With slow, cautious movements, Sato pulled a metallic scanner from his utility belt. He crouched down, keeping a safe distance, and pointed the device towards the gemstone.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The scanner beeped wildly. The small digital screen shimmered with a furious, flashing crimson.

Danger Level: S-Class. Pure Abyssal Mana Detected.

Sato swallowed hard, the color draining from his face. He looked up at Damon, his eyes wide with a mixture of profound awe and terror. "It's... it's real. Pure S-Rank."

The crowd erupted. Reporters shoved past the police barricades, thrusting microphones and recording crystals toward Damon.

"Mr. Hanshin! How did you survive in the boss room alone?"

"Are the allegations true? Did the Azure Dragon Guild betray you as bait?"

"What is your current power ranking? Are you hiding your true level?"

Damon ignored them all. He reached down and casually picked up the S-Rank core, tossing it into the air before it vanished into his spatial inventory as if it were a cheap piece of fruit. The casual display of spatial magic, a high-tier skill usually reserved for B-Rank or above sent another shockwave through the onlookers.

Myra, still clutching the Association Manager’s sleeve, stared at Damon with wide eyes. Her soft, pitiful healer persona had melted away, replaced by panic. "Damon," she whispered, her voice trembling so badly she could barely form the words. "Please... you can't do this. If you ruin our reputation on live television, the Guild Master will kill you."

Damon tilted his head, his shining crimson eyes looking into hers. The air around him suddenly grew freezing cold. A tiny fraction of the Goddess of Fate's suffocating killing intent oozed out from his body.

Myra choked on her own breath, collapsing to her knees in the mud. She clutched her throat, gasping for air that felt too thick and heavy to breathe.

"Tell your Guild Master," Damon said, his calm voice carrying gently over the chaotic noise of the reporters, "that I'm keeping the core. If he wants it, he can come try to take it from me. But tell him to bring a coffin."

Damon turned and walked away. The sea of reporters, armed guards, and medics frantically parted for him like the Red Sea. No one dared to block his path, not when he carried the undisputed aura of a monster slayer.

Levitating silently beside his head, the crimson screen lit up the dark street.

[The Goddess of Fate is smiling.]

[Goddess of Fate]: They look like worms in the mud. You should have crushed their skulls.

[Goddess of Fate]: But I like your arrogance. Walk away, my love. Let them tremble in fear tonight. I love it when you act so cold.

****

Two hours later. The Central Awakened Bank was a tall fortress of reinforced glass and steel in the heart of Tokyo's elite commercial district. Normally, an F-Rank porter wearing bloodstained clothes wouldn't even be allowed past the lobby security. But tonight, Damon didn't walk in as a porter.

THUD! THUD!

He walked up to the VIP counter, his heavy boots echoing on the pristine marble floor. The teller, a sharply dressed man with a polite but dismissive smile, looked up from his terminal.

"Sir, I apologize, but the VIP section is strictly for A-Rank clients and Guild Masters. I must ask you to step—"

Damon didn't say a single word. He simply placed his hand on the polished mahogany counter and opened his spatial inventory. He didn't bring out the S-Rank core. Selling that immediately would draw too much dangerous heat from the national government. Instead, he dumped the fifty A-Rank and B-Rank mana cores he had diligently harvested from the dungeon before the boss fight.

A mountain of shining, concentrated magical gemstones piled up on the counter, illuminating the dim bank lobby in a rainbow of neon light.

The teller's jaw dropped, the dismissive smile vanishing instantly.

"I need liquid credits," Damon said, "and I need your best high end real estate broker. Now."

****

Ten minutes later, Damon was sitting in a leather chair inside the bank manager's private, soundproof office. The manager, sweating profusely and bowing constantly, handed Damon a black platinum card.

"Mr. Hanshin, your account has been credited with four hundred and fifty million yen. We also have several properties available for immediate purchase, as you requested."

Damon scrolled through the holographic tablet the manager provided. He didn't care about luxury swimming pools, marble floors, or fancy city views. He cared about one thing, which was defense. He selected a top-floor penthouse in the high security Roppongi district. It was a fortress disguised as luxury. It featured blast proof glass, reinforced walls lined with mana dampening runes, and a private, biometric locked elevator.

"I'll take the Roppongi penthouse," Damon said, tossing the tablet onto the expensive desk. "Paid in full. Have the access keys transferred to my System ID in five minutes."

****

Midnight.

Damon stepped out of the private elevator and into his new home. The penthouse was cold, and empty of furniture. The windows offered a breathtaking view of the neon lit Tokyo skyline. Rain hammered gently against the reinforced glass, creating a soothing, rhythmic sound.

PLIP! PLIP! PLIP!

It was quiet. For the first time in three long years, Damon felt a genuine sense of safety. He had millions in the bank. He possessed a mythical tier power. His little sister's crippling hospital bills had already been paid off via an anonymous wire transfer while he was sitting in the bank.

He let out a long sigh and collapsed onto the floor, resting his back against the cold wall. He closed his eyes, the adrenaline rush of the day beginning to wear off.

Ping!!

The sharp sound of a system notification echoed in the quiet, empty room. Damon opened his eyes. The room was no longer dark. It was shimmering in a glowing crimson light. The transparent chat box hovered above his face, demanding his attention.

[The Goddess of Fate is deeply displeased.]

[Goddess of Fate]: It is too dark in here. I cannot see your beautiful face clearly.

[Goddess of Fate]: Open the System Constellation Shop, Damon. Buy the 'Omni-View' broadcasting cameras.

Damon frowned, his exhausted muscles tensing up. "Cameras? Why? The system already broadcasts my point of view to you."

[Goddess of Fate]: I do not want your point of view. I want to look at YOU.

[Goddess of Fate]: Buy them. Now. Place one in the living room. One in the kitchen. One in the bathroom, and one above where you intend to sleep.

A freezing cold chill crawled up Damon's spine. The feeling of safety and victory he had just enjoyed shattered into a million jagged pieces. He wasn't safe or escaped. He had just traded a prison of poverty for a digital one.

"The bathroom? The bedroom?" Damon asked, his voice tightening with panic. "That's an extreme invasion of privacy. I need to sleep. I need time up from the stream."

The temperature in the penthouse plummeted below freezing. The red text in the chat box began to glitch, the letters vibrating as if the system itself was struggling to contain her rage.

[WARNING: Constellation 'Goddess of Fate' is emitting divine killing intent.]

[Goddess of Fate]: Privacy?

[Goddess of Fate]: Do you not remember the terms of our contract, my sweet Damon? Your past, present, and future belong to me. Your body belongs to me. Your sleep belongs to me.

[Goddess of Fate]: Do you want to hide from me? Are you planning to bring someone else into this home? Is that it?

Damon suddenly felt an invisible, crushing weight wrap tightly around his throat. It wasn't physical hands, but the sheer, overwhelming pressure of her divine aura squeezing the oxygen from his lungs. He gasped, falling forward onto his hands and knees on the hardwood floor, clawing at his own neck.

[Goddess of Fate]: I gave you the power to crush those who hurt you. I gave you the wealth to save your pathetic, fragile little sister.

[Goddess of Fate]: Do not test my patience, Damon. I can take it all away in a single breath. I can snap the thread keeping your sister's heart beating right now. I can make her dead before you even stand up.

Damon's eyes widened in sheer horror. His sister. She was casually dragging his innocent, bedridden sister into this. The threat wasn't an empty bluff. He could feel the psychotic certainty burning through the crimson text. She would kill a child just to teach him a lesson about obedience.

"Stop," Damon choked out, his vision obscuring black at the edges as he struggled to speak. "Stop. Don't... don't touch her."

The crushing pressure around his throat vanished. Damon collapsed, coughing rigidly and dragging greedy, burning lungfuls of air into his chest.

[The Goddess of Fate is smiling warmly.]

[Goddess of Fate]: Good boy.

[Goddess of Fate]: Now, open the shop. Buy the cameras. Let me see you properly.

Trembling vehemently, his clothes soaked in a cold sweat, Damon swiped his hand through the air, opening the system interface. He navigated to the Constellation Shop, using a fraction of the millions of Karma Points she had donated to him earlier.

He purchased four 'Omni-View' hovering cameras. The small, spherical orbs formed in the air with a soft hum. Following her strict, obsessive, step-by-step instructions in the chat log, he directed one to hover in the corner of the living room, one in the kitchen area, and one outside the glass shower doors.

Finally, he walked into the master bedroom. He placed the final camera to hover above the center of the ceiling, the unblinking red recording light staring down at him in the dark. Damon collapsed heavily on the floor, staring up at the little red light. He felt exposed. Stripped bare. There was nowhere left on earth to hide.

[The Goddess of Fate is purring in satisfaction.]

[The Goddess of Fate has donated 500,000 Karma Points!]

[Goddess of Fate]: So perfect. You look so beautiful when you are obedient and broken.

[Goddess of Fate]: Go to sleep now, my love. I will be watching your chest rise and fall. I will always be watching.

Damon laid his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. The physical exhaustion of fighting an S-Rank dungeon boss was nothing compared to the suffocating mental toll of this reality.

He had the power to slaughter monsters. He had millions of credits. He had exacted a precise revenge on his abusers. Yet, as he closed his eyes under the relentless red gaze of the camera, Damon Silverstar had never felt more like a prisoner in his entire life. He had to get stronger. Not just strong enough to kill monsters. He had to get strong enough to kill a God. Because if he didn't find a way to break this contract, the Goddess of Fate wouldn't just own his life. She would consume his soul wholly.