Chronicles Of The Seeker

"Noah Abraham."

Aquarius had suspected it since he first learned of the world of Seekers—the simple-looking officer was far more than he appeared. But before he could fully process his thoughts, the Astral Realm shuddered.

Something was happening—something that wasn't meant to.

He lifted his gaze to the stars, their light standing firm in the vast void. An irrational urge clawed at him—to drag them down, to crush them beneath his will. But he knew better, there where far more pressing matters.

He forced his body to stand upright, but no matter how he struggled, his limbs refused to budge, The harder he fought, the greater the pressure became.

His heart pounded like a war drum. His muscles strained. His breath came in short, shallow gasps.

The ritual wasn't complete. He was sure of it.

Even if every condition had been met, he hadn't revealed anything about his true self. In truth, he wasn't even sure who he truly was after his unexpected fallout with the Ancient Fiend. Though a small part of him had hoped his awakening would clear the fog clouding his memories, it did not.

No—it was doing something else.

It was planting something.

Something foreign.

'Damn it. Damn it all. Why can't things just go my way for once? '

A crack formed deep inside him—like a dam on the verge of breaking. The world around him twisted, his senses distorting as the Astral Realm crumbled.

Revealing an endless sea.

And a sky—filled with deep purple clouds—looming above.

Aquarius looked at the ocean stretching beneath him. This was no illusion. This wasn't the projection of the Astral Realm.

This was inside him.

Every ripple. Every shift. He felt it all.

If that was true, then this wasn't just something alien.

It had to be something that already existed in him finally breaking free.

His own 'Madness'

Dread settled over him like an unbearable weight.

Aquarius staggered, his breath shallow, fingers twitching as the inhuman creature nested inside him. A sensation slithered through his veins—coiling, writhing, burrowing deep.

His knees buckled. He clenched his fists so hard his nails bit into his palms.

But no matter how tightly he held on—

His body was no longer his to control.

His muscles spasmed violently. His ribs felt as though invisible hands were prying them apart, making room for something else. His stomach churned, agony rolling through his gut.

A shuddering, broken breath slipped through his lips.

"Keep it together. God damn it."

The pain didn't listen.

He didn't want to die. He wanted to live.

There were too many things he needed to know, too many questions left unanswered.

Most of all, he refused to die under someone else's will.

His flesh rippled, swarming as though alive—twisting, warping, contorting into something grotesque before snapping back into place. His bones groaned under the pressure, like rusted metal being forced into an unnatural shape.

Before he knew it, he was on his side, panting violently. His vision darkened, black spots dancing before his eyes.

But there was no time for weakness.

No time for fear.

He had to live.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears—a frantic rhythm that no longer felt human.

And in that moment, he knew—

This wasn't just pain.

This was a warning.

The madness lying dormant inside him was on the verge of breaking.

A sudden splitting sensation tore through his skull, as if his head were being cracked open.

His flesh resisted.

His mind did not.

A wave of nausea struck as he glimpsed something within himself—an unnatural shape that pulsed, layered over his very existence, like a parasite feeding on his soul.

His thoughts fractured— Scattered. Fragmented.

Distant memories blurred. Unrealized futures bled into his consciousness.

'Was he still Aquarius Alucard?'

Or had he become something else?

Doubt gnawed at him. Was that even his true name? Or just another fabricated memory—one of many, stitched together by his fractured mind?

He pushed himself onto his knees, vision distorting at the edges. Reality itself stretched, melting like wax beneath an unseen sun.

A muffled scream left his lips.

But the silence swallowed it whole.

Beyond the veil of human perception—

Something watched.

Something smiled.

Aquarius knew this feeling.

It wasn't just the stars.

Not just the universe.

The gods.

They were mocking him.

Another lamb. Another fool. Another toy tossed into their great design.

And he instinctively knew why. Why his ritual felt wrong.

'It's that damn 'miracle ability,' isn't it? '

It was more than what the explanation said. Even he wouldn't want to see someone who was a literal impossibility specialist appear in a world ruled by gods.

Yet, he wasn't ready to succumb to their ploy.

He didn't know why they hadn't killed him outright.

But he didn't want to find out.

—Not now, at least.

Clutching his chest, Aquarius forced himself to focus. He didn't have time to dwell on pain. There was something far worse at hand.

"If I'm really going to perish here… why don't I go out with a bang?"

A weak chuckle slipped from his lips.

Then, he forced his legs into a cross-legged position and sat still.

He concentrated.

Focused.

He reached for it—that same warmth he had felt back on the ship, the fleeting sensation from the moment he awakened.

Each time he grasped at it, the unbearable pain of his body mutating dragged him back.

But he didn't stop.

Even when he was on the verge of collapse, he kept going.

Even when he couldn't breathe, when it felt like his head was splitting apart, he continued searching.

Sweat ran down his spine. His breathing was ragged. His limbs trembled—

But then—

A spark ignited.

A crooked smile spread across his lips.

"Finally."

At once, his body was overwhelmed by a sudden surge of energy.

And he felt it—

His body was returning to normal.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

He wasn't in the Astral Realm.

He wasn't in the endless sea.

He was back—sitting alone on the altar.

But something was wrong.

Yes, he was supposed to feel stronger from his transformation.

Yes, his mind was supposed to be somewhat clearer.

But it was neither of those things.

A chill crept up his spine. His lips parted as the realization struck.

"I… I can't see colors anymore."