Above Y/N's head, the symbol of Hunt materialized, casting a haunting glow that prompted him to look up. The emblem was a stark reminder of Xianzhou's guiding principles, of the paths that individuals chose to follow. 'Lan, are you watching me? Or is it everyone else too?' Y/N pondered, feeling the weight of unseen eyes upon him. There was an undeniable presence, some gazes familiar, others foreign, all fixated on him.

As more symbols appeared, floating before him—Hunt, Voracity, Elation, Trailblaze, Order, Remembrance, Harmony, Nihility, Equilibrium, and Beauty—Y/N's empty heart grew heavy. The final symbol, Beauty, shifted amorphously, defying form and perhaps, definition. His emotions were mixed; pride mingled with resentment. He was content to be acknowledged by these entities yet angered that they observed him as if he were merely a spectacle.

A sudden realization dawned upon him about Voracity and Harmony. 'Have I ever truly encountered these Aeons?' he questioned internally. The possibility that they might have walked among mortals without his knowledge seemed unlikely yet plausible.

The array of symbols was not random; it was chronological, representing the paths he had crossed, both knowingly and unknowingly. Idrila's presence, watching him intently, her form now marred by decay, broke his train of thought. No longer did she embody the dignified aura of Beauty; instead, she looked frail, her beauty succumbing to an unsettling rot.

With narrowed eyes, Y/N voiced his concern softly, "Will my answer truly change anything? Will it impact you in any way?" The concept of 'Existence' that Idrila had mentioned earlier was now at the forefront of his mind, tying his fate to her mysterious agenda.

Idrila responded, not with the clarity he desired, but with a reflective question. "That depends on your interpretation. The experiences you've endured, the memories you've cherished—would you find them meaningless if forgotten? What do you envision for this world's future?"

Frustration crept into Y/N's voice as he manifested a sword of light from his soul. "You speak in riddles, Idrila. If confusing me was your intent, then know that I find little value in such ambiguity."

Idrila tilted her head, her expression emotionless yet strangely fixated on the glowing sword in his hand. "I seek to clarify, to recall what I can from the fragments of my memory. Your path, your choices—they are yours to forge, depending on your willingness to cooperate."

Though her answer was unexpected, Y/N accepted it tentatively. Idrila's smile, devoid of warmth, seemed more befitting a Queen of Vengeance than of Beauty. The atmosphere tensed, the candlelight flickering out as if in anticipation of a storm about to break.

Drawing a deep breath, Y/N resolved to confront his past. "I will revisit the key events of my life, particularly those preserved within Fuli's realm of memory, where mine and Jingliu's pasts intertwine."

The darkness around them grew denser, the altar before them shifting ominously. Idrila clasped her hands as if in prayer, turning towards the altar with a solemn nod.

Observing her, Y/N noted the stark contrast between her current form and the vibrant figure of beauty she once was. 'She resembles more the possessed form of the Great One, Oedon, than the Aeon of Beauty she claims to be,' he thought grimly.

Clearing his mind of distractions, Y/N prepared to voice his first question, determined to uncover the truths buried within the enigmatic symbols and their bearer.

"In the distant past, my home was destroyed by a dragon and a leviathan," Y/N began, his voice tinged with unresolved pain from the memory. "I am aware of Long's passing and the proliferation of its scions into various dragon species. However, the leviathan's presence does not connect logically with what I know."

With a wave of his hand, Y/N conjured a Phantom Bubble, an orb that convulsed with the echoes of past events. He gestured to Idrila, encouraging her to make contact with the orb. "I know you have witnessed what I did. This Phantom Bubble will serve as our neutral ground, ensuring your full attention despite your fragmented memories," he explained, his tone firm yet respectful.

Idrila regarded the orb with a contemplative gaze, the weight of history flickering within her eyes. "It is true, my memories are incomplete," she admitted, her voice soft yet laced with an underlying strength. "But do not mistake my gaps in memory for deceit."

Y/N offered a faint smile in response, appreciating her candidness. "Like I said, it's merely an assurance," he reassured her gently.

Idrila sighed, the weight of her form seeming to stretch with the burden she carried, a ghastly decay beginning to take hold. "How peculiar you are," she remarked. "Your actions and focus shift in the most unpredictable ways. Had I not witnessed your memories, I might have mistaken you for an Aha's Elation."

Choosing not to respond directly to her observation, Y/N watched as she extended a trembling hand towards the Phantom Bubble. As her fingers made contact, the orb erupted into a rapid sequence of images, showcasing two towering beings—a dark leviathan and a sunlit dragon—unleashing havoc over Cangcheng.

The scenes of chaos and destruction that followed were a painful reminder of the past, the memories of citizens suffering and dying during the serpent and dragon's clash still haunting Y/N. It prompted him to ponder the painful "What-If's" of his past actions, a theme he had explored in his trials with HooH, only to realize that even with knowledge of the past, one could not alter their core desires and ambitions.

Idrila watched alongside him as the leviathan attacked with a ferocity that could melt anything in its path, while the dragon blazed everything into an inferno. The stark duality of their natures—light and darkness, creation and destruction—was unmistakable.

With the images still swirling in the Phantom Bubble, Y/N posed his burning question. "These two beasts, they are the cause of my homeland's destruction and the shattered hopes of many. Tell me, why were they there?"

Idrila's response came swiftly, almost as if she had anticipated his question. "A coincidence. Merely being in the wrong place at the wrong time," she stated simply.

Y/N's grip on his sword tightened, the stone around them seeming to tremble with his rising anger. However, he quickly regained his composure, the tremors ceasing as swiftly as they had begun. "A coincidence, you say. But what of their prophecies? Was their presence meant to fulfill some greater fate, or was it merely a trigger for further events?"

Touching the orb once again, Idrila shifted the images to a figure Y/N recognized immediately—his master. "Your master was one of my knights, a wielder of a greatsword," she explained, her tone filled with a hint of regret. "I cannot say for certain his connection to Voracity's serpent and Long's scion, but it seems more than mere coincidence. Perhaps he was part of a prophecy, his actions aligning mysteriously with the rivalries of these beasts."

Y/N absorbed her words, a mix of relief and new questions swirling within him. While Idrila's explanations provided some answers, they also opened new avenues of inquiry about his master and the intertwined fates of all involved.

"I see... then I shall proceed to the next one." Y/N moved to conjure another Phantom Bubble, but Idrila's voice halted his actions.

"Don't you want to ask about your master? He was an important figure to you, the catalyst to your foundation," Idrila interjected, her tone soft yet insistent.

Y/N remained silent for a moment. His curiosity about his master was indeed significant, but he felt confident he could uncover that truth later. "No need," he finally responded. "Your confirmation of his connection to you is sufficient for now, and the fact that he was active during my era implies that he's still around."

As he spoke, the sword in his hand began to pulse with light, its form subtly enlarging and shifting, as if responding to his will. Y/N noted the transformation but decided to focus on more pressing matters first.

Idrila remained silent, giving him space to direct the flow of their discourse.

Y/N shifted the scene within his other Phantom Bubble to a desolate forest, where he had once defeated Shuhu with Lan's assistance. However, it was there that the Emanator of Abundance had summoned forth monstrosities that had deeply affected Jingliu, pushing him toward his corrupted state.

Observing his corrupted self within the bubble, Y/N noted similarities to his shadow—or rather, his Monarch. The armor, the greatsword, it was all reminiscent of his own dark phase. Lan had freed him temporarily from this affliction, but remnants of that aura lingered, altering how others perceived him.

"These creatures, they remind me of the Great Ones, but their essence feels derivative, their forms incomplete and their energy distinct. Are they related to the curse of Beauty you mentioned earlier?" Y/N inquired, his tone heavy with suspicion and curiosity.

"They are mere monstrosities of Propagation, mixed with the element of Abundance to enhance their regenerative capabilities," Idrila explained. "Such beings were common during the Swarm Disasters, which contributed heavily to the fall of my kingdom."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued and alarmed by the notion of mixing Paths—a practice he deemed almost taboo, yet evidently common in dire times such as wars and great calamities.

"War..." Y/N muttered, recalling the vast conflicts foretold by visions, involving many Aeons and mortals alike. "Wait, why do I know this?"

"Visions of the Tree have provided you with many answers," Idrila responded, her voice echoing slightly within the space. "Your shadow touched another realm, transferring those glimpses to you. These visions come at random, offering you a peek into another world's reality."

Y/N's brow furrowed deeper, his thoughts swirling with the implications of his otherworldly visions. "Wouldn't that mean my identity could be stolen? Or remade anew?"

Idrila shook her head, her gaze falling upon the altar where the decay had spread, yet a residual shine remained. "That depends entirely on how you choose to handle what's been given to you," she replied, her words cryptic yet hinting at deeper layers of choice and identity yet to be explored.

Her answer, though enigmatic, suggested that more revelations were to come, and Y/N understood that the path ahead would require him to navigate the murky waters of memory, prophecy, and identity—all intertwined with the enigmatic and shifting sands of the Paths he had encountered.

As Y/N held the Phantom Bubble in his hand, the image within it shifted of its own accord, revealing a scene of Igris and the Knights of Beauty adorned in their resplendent armor, each helm crowned with a striking red plume. Idrila watched the transformation with a tear escaping her eye, touched by the memories of her past protectors.

Y/N observed the orb with astonishment. His recollections from Alphen's tales of defeating the Great One were vivid but seeing this precise and intimate memory unfurl was another matter—it felt as though...

"The Tree..." Y/N whispered under his breath. He envisioned the Tree as a colossal entity, a vast network linking the multiverse, with all lives entwined by invisible threads of Fate. As the Monarch had implied earlier, Fate could be altered, its course redirected by will, though its ultimate outcomes remained shrouded in mystery.

Idrila's voice broke his reverie, her tone laden with sorrow. "My knights... they truly have lived on, in you." Her gaze lifted from the orb to meet Y/N's eyes, which flickered with changing hues. "It appears now is my time to ask a question of you."

Taken aback by the sudden shift, Y/N awaited her query, his response held in silence.

"The memory of my knights, what will you do with them? They, who have lived honorably beside me and served loyally for their home."

The answer came from Y/N unbidden, almost as though it were whispered by his non-existent heart. "To serve me loyally, see me as their new monarch."

Idrila's silence followed his declaration, laden with myriad unspoken thoughts, yet the atmosphere around them was not heavy with despair but lightened with a sense of relief, perhaps even joy. Slowly, her form began to regain its usual splendor, the decay receding and being replaced by a radiant light that seemed to cleanse the air around them.

"Then you have my acceptance," Idrila finally spoke, her voice clear and resonant. "As the Aeon of Beauty, you may have my knights, for they will live on forever with you."

The sanctuary trembled with profound tremors as beams of light, red and silver, emerged from the altar, coalescing into distinct forms—souls. These souls swirled around Idrila in a dance of celebration, reminiscent of stars in a night sky.

Taking one of the souls into her palm, Idrila addressed it with maternal warmth. "Oh, my knights. Do not worry, my memory will live on in your new sovereign. Do take good care of yourselves, everyone." Tears streamed down her face as she imparted her final blessings.

The souls, understanding their new path, began to drift towards Y/N, their movement hesitant, as if reluctant to leave Idrila's side. Yet, her nod of encouragement urged them forward.

Surrounding Y/N, the ten souls of the knights orbited him, their presence protective and vigilant, as if warding off unseen threats. Y/N watched in awe, feeling a profound sense of fulfillment, as if something vital had been restored within him.

As the souls of Idrila's knights encircled him, Y/N felt an indescribable connection to the legacy of Beauty—a legacy that now looked to him for guidance and protection.

And as Y/N held the Phantom Bubble, the image within abruptly shifted, surprising him. He found himself staring at a vision of his former self, the person he was before his dramatic transformation in both appearance and essence. His past self seemed to watch him too, a mirror reflecting his journey.

Idrila observed the scene, her eyes closed as a radiant light enveloped her, healing the decay that had marred her presence. The environment around them responded similarly; it was as though the world itself was healing, its fate intricately tied to Y/N's decisions.

"So, this is what you mean by cooperation... I see it now," Y/N murmured, watching the transformation unfold. "It was all about me, the deciding factor."

Idrila nodded, her expression serene. "What will you do next? Your answer and your next action will define you completely. You've spoken of your Fate and your desire to be truly yourself."

Y/N remembered the Progenitor's words that had once filled him with resentment. He felt like a mere pawn on a cosmic chessboard. But he recognized that even a pawn could transform when it reached a crucial point in its journey. "To break free of control," he declared firmly. "I will lead my own Path."

As he voiced his resolution, the symbols of Paths that hovered above him vanished. The surroundings turned vibrant and filled with a calming yet unsettling chorus of countless unseen observers.

Idrila's gaze remained fixed on Y/N, undistracted by the gathering energies. "Xipe, bear witness to this man who will forge his own Path. The Harmony he creates will be his alone, not imposed upon others."

A comforting warmth enveloped Y/N, an ethereal embrace from the Aeon of Harmony, Xipe, who, while unseen, made her presence profoundly felt. Y/N relished in this spiritual hug, pondering the nature of Harmony. "I had thought Xipe would disfavor separation from one's duties."

Idrila shook her head slightly, understanding his thoughts. "Xipe intervenes when actions disrupt communal peace, but your path affects everyone and yourself—it's a universal shift."

This revelation brought Y/N to another dilemma concerning the other Aeons like Order and Equilibrium, whose mandates were absolute, restricting freedom to maintain balance. He hadn't received their blessings, yet the unfolding events seemed to herald an outcome beyond anyone's expectations.

"Then, what is your role? From what the Monarch discerned, Aha exposed me to emotions, Akivili taught me the freedom of independence, Fuli revealed my potential... but the others, they have yet to show me answers, unless..."

Idrila's smile broadened, the light around her transforming luminously. "The contact with the Tree has swiftly reshaped you. The answers you seek already exist within you, for you are connected to the Tree and its domain. Indeed, I am here to redefine your identity, to extract you from this world so you may have your own narrative. Not joint with your significant other, but a story uniquely yours."

Y/N nodded slowly, absorbing her words. The insights he needed had come to him, visions granted by the Tree, showing him the world he cherished. "That's right, a new identity for myself alone. I wonder, truly, what will come next?"

The bright aura around Idrila shifted, coalescing into the form of Jingliu, who smiled at him with acceptance and joy. "You've realized it," she said. "The answers you seek will come in time. You are about to step into your own domain, as the Tree will transform you. I bid you farewell, He, Who Has Broken Fate."

With those words, the altar and Idrila herself faded, leaving Y/N once again in the vast emptiness, a realm of Nothing, now ready to be filled with his new destiny.

---

Y/N sighed, a feeling of anticipation mixed with a newfound understanding stirring within him. "I know you are there, Monarch," he called out into the stillness.

From the shadows, the Monarch emerged, its presence formidable yet familiar. "You have realized your Path, but you remain incomplete," it stated, its voice resonant with a profound gravity that matched the moment's significance.

Y/N turned to face the Monarch, his sword of Existence evolving, lengthening into the form of a greatsword, a symbol of his readiness to confront and consolidate his destiny. "Yes, and I have something to ask you," he said, his tone firm.

"The Beauty of my own is the shaping of my identity. The form I bear is the result of accumulated value deemed worthy by the Aeons, but what of you? If I am the creation of the Aeons in body, what are you?" Y/N inquired, seeking to understand the essence of his shadowy counterpart.

The Monarch remained silent for a moment, contemplating the depth of the question. "I am the result of you—the embodiment of what you have idolized for yourself. Yet, I also bear the imperfections you carry, as you reflect the flaws of others. Nothing can truly change unless you alter your very essence."

Y/N nodded, his understanding deepening. "What do you think of the Order and Equilibrium? Harmony and Beauty have accepted my answer, but what is your view on their perception?"

The Monarch sensed the complexity behind Y/N's question but chose to respond with transparency. "Order represents the absolute cycle of existence, indifferent to individual suffering. Equilibrium seeks balance, a state we have yet to fully achieve."

As they conversed, Y/N summoned the Ornate Dagger and the shards of his broken greatsword. The weapons floated between them, symbols of his journey and transformation. "The Order will become my own to command, and the Equilibrium will be our joint achievement as we reach singularity in existence."

Hearing this, the Monarch slowly began to fade. "Then, you have your answer. I will merge with you. We are one, yet distinct. Our fusion will forge a new identity. No longer are we Y/N; we transcend that name."

Y/N extended his hand towards the Monarch, who reciprocated with an armored gesture akin to a handshake. "Then I propose a new name for us."

The Monarch tilted its head, curious. "Oh? Then do tell. You are me, and I am you. After all, the name will shape our future."

With a resolute nod, Y/N spoke the new name that would mark their combined existence. 

"Artorias."

The Monarch repeated the name, savoring its resonance. "Artorias... It suits us. I bid you farewell, as you do the same, for our fusion is imminent. No longer are we Y/N, but now, Artorias."

With those final words, the Monarch vanished, and the realm of Nothing transformed. The sky darkened into an abyssal canvas dotted with stars, and the land below morphed into a realm of shadows—a domain uniquely theirs, shaped by the new identity of Artorias. Here, in this realm of Eternal Rest, the newly named Artorias would forge his path, unbound by the past and shaped by the infinite possibilities of his new existence.

Then Artorias stood, contemplating the sword in his hand, feeling its power pulse as an extension of his very essence. The Tree's visions swirled through his mind, revealing answers and laying the thread of Fate before him. Closing his eyes, he focused, feeling a heartbeat emerge within him—a rhythm that grew stronger and steadier with each pulse.

The Monarch, now merged within him, had created the personification of darkness and shadow—a literal Abyss under his control. A Black Heart formed to replace his missing heart, absorbing the surrounding void and filling Artorias with immense energy. To break Fate, he had become Nothing, yet his identity was nearly complete.

His next transformation was imminent. The Ornate Dagger and the remnants of his broken greatsword began to shift, their forms dissolving into Black Light—his former self. This Black Light coalesced into a shapeless mass, primed to be forged into a singular instrument of power.

The Ornate Dagger, a relic from Ena, embodied Order. It would soon prove crucial as it fused with Artorias's essence—his control over his Fate solidifying. The broken greatsword, a remnant of his mortal past, symbolized his evolution from man to the entity he now was.

The power of Existence, floating before him, beckoned the Black Light. The transformation was tumultuous; the three elements melded in a spectacle of power and potential, the very domain quaking under the force of their union.

Finally, the fusion halted abruptly. Artorias grasped the newly formed greatsword with ease. This blade was not merely a weapon but an ancient artifact, embodying the path of Order and the echoes of a past long departed. Crafted from the essence of Existence itself, it gleamed with an ethereal white light, its form, long and slender, merges the traditional aspects of a longsword with the formidable presence of a greatsword.

Intricate patterns etched along the blade shimmered with celestial energy, each line infused with the power to manipulate Fate. The sword's crossguard, regal and balanced, complemented a grip fashioned for a warrior destined to challenge the cosmos.

This greatsword was a key to altering realities—a conduit for Artorias's will to reshape both future and past, empowering him to sever the chains of Fate binding him and others. It was a creation and destruction, its presence a testament to the power held within Artorias' grasp.

Artorias swung the sword, its white blade slicing through the deep black of his world, leaving trails of light in its wake. Each swing was a testament to his newfound identity—a declaration of his independence from the constraints of his former self.

His sword was his identity, as he was its essence. Without it, he was incomplete, for the sword was connected to him at the soul, a constant reminder of the power and responsibility he wielded.

"I will name you, High Abyss."

Artorias then looked at the sword in his hand, now named the "High Abyss," and felt its power converge with his essence.  The blade shimmered, and a miasma of the Abyss enveloped both him and the sword. The surrounding void of the Eternal Rest responded, taking on a form that resonated with the newly christened weapon.

Once, the task of forging his own armor had been fraught with difficulties, a reflection of his incomplete state where both he and the Monarch had struggled against their disjointed unity. Now, fully merged and wholly realized, Artorias was prepared for his final transformation.

Envisioning the armor he sought, shadows from the Eternal Rest swirled towards him, enveloping him in a cocoon-like embrace. The shadows materialized into armor that was both majestic and menacing. The armor, enveloping him completely, was crafted from the essence of the Abyss itself—dark, with an intricate design that hinted at ancient and powerful origins. Its texture was smooth yet appeared impenetrable, a perfect blend of elegance and fortitude.

The cape, long and flowing, hung just short enough to avoid hindrance in battle, its movement reminiscent of a silent wraith gliding through the darkness. The design was akin to that of the Progenitor's—a robe that signified not only power but also a deep connection to the origins of his power. Artorias knew this change in apparel signified a need to adapt his battle style, a shift towards a form that matched his new identity.

Turning to the souls that had aligned with him, Artorias contemplated their transformation. The Abyss had revealed the possibilities, and now it was time to actualize them into reality. The souls, while retaining the essence of their existence, would adopt a new resolve under his command.

With a deep, resonant voice, Artorias commanded.

"Arise."

---

End of Chapter

A/N: How did you all like the chapter? I hope you had an enjoyable read. As always, thank you for reading, and see you in the next chapter. Have a good day!