Beast Gacha System: All Mine

Chapter 306: The Warning

The water was everywhere.

Ruby did not remember falling. She was simply there. In the dark. In the cold. In something that was not quite water and not quite nothing, pressing against her skin, filling her lungs, filling her mind.

She could not breathe.

She should not be able to breathe. There was water in her throat, in her chest, in the spaces where air should have been. But she did not choke. Did not drown. Did not die.

The water was inside her and she was still thinking, still feeling, still aware of the pressure of something that should have killed her and was, instead, keeping her suspended.

The light was above her. Pale. She tried to reach for it, and her arms would not move. Tried to call out, and her voice would not come. The water held her. The dark held her.

Something was watching her from the edges of the world, and she could not turn her head to see it.

Time passed. Or did not pass. Ruby floated in the space between, and her lungs were full, and her chest was heavy.

Then she surfaced.

It was not a choice. Again, she was simply... above.

The water was still, black, endless, stretching to horizons that had no shape. The sky was nothing. And in front of her, floating with her feet five inches above the water, was a girl.

Her hair was black, long, spreading behind her like ink, like night, like something that had been growing for centuries.

She was facing away, her shoulders small, her head bowed, her hands at her sides. The water beneath her did not ripple. The air around her did not move. She was there, and she was not there, and Ruby could not look away.

Ruby gasped. The air was cold, sharp. Her lungs burned. Her chest heaved. And horror was spreading through her body like water through cloth.

The black haired little girl turned her face.

It was slow. She had all the time in the world. Her hair slid across the water, black on black, and her face was young, smooth, the face of a child who had never learned to smile.

Her eyes were dark, too dark, with no stars. Her mouth was small, pressed into a line that was not quite a frown and not quite nothing.

She smiled.

It was a gentle smile. Like she had been waiting for a very long time, and was glad, finally, to see you.

Ruby screamed.

Air tore from her throat. This... she was not meant to see. The water rose to meet it, dark and cold, and something caught her ankle and pulled.

She was under. The water was in her mouth, her nose, her eyes. Bubbles burst from her lips, silver in the dark, rising toward the light that was so far away.

She was still screaming, still trying to scream, and the water was filling her, and the girl was above her, watching.

Ruby recognized her.

Do you remember?

The voice was a pressure, settling into her bones. Ruby tried to curse. Her mouth opened, and water poured in, and the darkness rose, and the girl’s face was the last thing she saw before everything went away.

Ruby came to on the cold stone floor of the sealed hall.

The incense had burned out. The candles had guttered, their wax pooled in white lakes around blackened wicks.

The light that filtered through the high windows was grey, and the shadows in the corners were the shadows of a room that had been empty for a very long time.

She was lying on her side, her robes tangled around her legs, her hair spread across the stone like something that had been spilled.

Her cheek was cold. Her hands were cold. Her chest was cold, and she could feel her heart beating, could feel the blood moving through her veins, could feel the slowness of a body that was remembering how to be alive.

She did not move.

The ceiling above her was painted with the faces of gods. The old gods, the ones who had been worshipped before the temples were built, before the prayers were written, before the world had learned to be afraid.

Their eyes followed her. Their mouths were open, frozen in the shape of words that had been spoken so long ago that no one remembered what they meant.

Ruby’s breath came in small, shallow gasps. Her lungs were still full of water, or remembered being full of water, or were trying to convince her that she had never learned to breathe at all.

She could taste salt on her lips. Could feel the weight of something pressing against her chest, her throat, the place where her voice lived.

She pushed herself up. Her arms trembled. Her hands slipped on the stone, slick with something that might have been water, might have been sweat, might have been nothing at all.

She sat, and the room spun, and the faces of the gods watched her, alone.

What was that?

She had not received a true prophecy in years.

She had learned to make do with what she remembered, with the fragments of a future that no longer existed.

But that was not a prophecy.

She knew what it was.

It was a warning.

She had seen that girl before in a future that had already happened. The girl with the black hair.

Why?

Why now?

The gods had never shown her this vision in her previous life. They had let her live, let her love, let her die without knowing. Why were they showing her now? Why were they showing her anything?

Fear rose in her throat.

She needed to take control of the world before it happened. The girl, the dark that was rising. It had already happened once and was waiting to happen again.

She needed to move.

Ruby pushed herself to her feet. Her legs were unsteady. Her hands were shaking. The faces of the gods watched her, and she did not look away.

It wasn’t over yet.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

-----------------------

Alright, this will make up for yesterday’s missing update. Enjoy, guys!!!