The Bloodline System Chapter 1688 1688: Should You Even Be Here?

This world bore no name.

Gustav had never taken the effort to assign one. The planet formed a hushed globe of silver-blue hues and dark earth, featuring vast, motionless expanses that extended beyond the vision of any mortal gaze.

Overhead loomed a sky that stayed unchanging. It resembled an endless twilight devoid of stars, neither day nor night, draped like a perpetual veil. No life stirred upon it. No growth emerged here.

This spot alone in the cosmos proved sturdy enough to endure his unchecked power, as he had forged it precisely for that reason.

The earth stayed intact under his steps. The atmosphere held firm against his aura. No tempests of gravity erupted with his inhalations.

Earth could no longer tolerate even a brief span of ten minutes in his company without him discovering a method to temper his might.

Thus, he lingered in this place.

Across centuries.

Solitary.

A figure clad in a lengthy red coat perched upon a chunk of light-colored stone resembling a seat, arms propped on his thighs and chin dipped low. His unkempt blondish locks, grown out beyond their former length, draped like a dim veil over his icy demeanor. His features remained blank—eternally blank—yet his gaze…

His gaze harbored tempests vast enough to overwhelm entire star systems.

Within his grasp on the right, a glowing holographic display flickered, cycling through the familiar recording repeatedly. A woman. A grin he recalled sharper than any radiance. Palms caressing her swollen abdomen as she addressed him from an era long vanished.

Angy.

His Angy.

His offspring.

Lost.

He had forfeited realms, faced treachery from destiny... perished more often than any finite being could grasp.

Yet none of those torments rivaled the wound etched when he forfeited them.

The video cycled once more, showing Angy stroking her stomach, sharing tales of their sire with the child yet to be born. Gustav's torso constricted as if gripped in a vise. His pulse had ceased long ago, yet the spectral torment persisted without end.

He uttered no words.

Language had forsaken him ages past.

This marked his endless fate... observing a captured glimpse of an existence he could never reclaim.

For a savior of the cosmos, his status as an undying divine entity had twisted immortality into a cell of recollections.

A droplet traced down his face. It failed to drop as liquid... instead, it vaporized into luminous particles, an essence so potent that the terrain quaked.

His sorrow alone held the force to shatter worlds.

He drew a breath and cleared the edge of his eye.

Further particles.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.

A ring of lavender-golden force materialized abruptly at his rear.

It formed a gateway.

And through it emerged the sole individual he permitted to slip past his senses.

He kept his sight lowered.

A set of footgear tapped softly upon the surface.

"Well," a known woman's tone exhaled, "you still resemble a sullen monument."

Gustav raised his view just a touch.

Miss Aimee emerged from the gateway, dressed in deep-crimson garments with her tresses secured in a refined, straightforward knot. She still projected that striking blend of allure, haughtiness, and serene deadly vibe that had once crowned her as Earth's mightiest female.

Her aura by itself could shake realms, but beside him… she appeared nearly mortal.

"You've returned once more," Gustav uttered in a low tone as his stare drifted back to the projection. "Shouldn't you be overseeing your world?"

Miss Aimee gave an eye roll and approached, settling down next to him on the stone.

"My world can manage without my oversight for several days. They understand how to honor their deity. Moreover—" She gave his arm a gentle bump. "—I can't stand the thought of my top apprentice brooding eternally on a barren chunk."

Gustav showed no immediate response. Then a soft breath escaped him.

"I'm all right."

"You're an awful deceiver," she shot back at once. "You've always failed miserably at deceiving me."

He held his peace.

Miss Aimee tilted ahead a bit, observing the projection cycle anew... Angy chuckling lightly, caressing her abdomen, murmuring tenderly to the child within.

Miss Aimee's look gentled, shedding its typical edge.

"You've viewed this daily for more than three hundred years, Gustav."

"It's the final gift she bestowed upon me," Gustav breathed. "The ultimate instant where I can yet… sense their presence."

Miss Aimee regarded him with profound, sorrowful compassion.

Few entities across creation could fathom bereavement of such magnitude. Gustav had revived her from the grave far in the past... he wielded command over time, space, and reality... yet he remained powerless to restore Angy or the infant. The requirements proved unattainable. The events unchangeable. Even for his capabilities.

"How much longer will you continue this self-inflicted torment?" Miss Aimee inquired softly.

"I'm not tormenting myself. I'm recalling."

"It's the same," she grumbled.

She paused briefly.

Then she released a gradual exhale as her tone dropped.

"Do you truly plan to hide your presence from your companions indefinitely?"

Gustav allowed the projection to dissolve.

"They fare better in my absence. Anyway, lingering on Earth too extendedly…"

"It carries danger. Yes, I'm aware." Miss Aimee folded her limbs. "But your companions? They're mixedbloods. They don't age as ordinary people do. And they harbor no fear of you, Gustav. They yearn for you."

He fixed his gaze on the soil.

"Perhaps someday."

Miss Aimee scowled.

"Someday? Do you believe they'll endure eternally? Not all possess eternity like you or me. They will perish eventually—and you'll lament not visiting them prior."

"They possess centuries remaining," Gustav countered. "I can endure the wait."

"And suppose that wait stretches to yet another century? Followed by more?" she urged. "You're concealing yourself, Gustav. From your sorrow. From your own being. From all that surrounds you."

A dense, stagnant quiet descended once more.

Miss Aimee examined his vacant stare and fractured vigor in each respiration he drew, for an extended while.

At last, she yielded.

"All right. I'll cease prodding you." She breathed out. "But spare me the claim that you're fine. Refrain from falsehoods with me."

He offered no reply.

Moments later, Gustav's tone emerged even more subdued.

"Are you certain you ought to be here…? Your duties are substantial."

Miss Aimee huffed.

"Those can hold. I possess only one Gustav." She extended, laid her palm against the rear of his skull, and drew it sharply to her shoulder. "How could I endure abandoning you in such isolation?"

Gustav stiffened a fraction.

Her roughness persisted unchanged. The action evoked sharp reminiscences of initial times... when his frailty lingered, when he trained beneath her unyielding regimen.

He permitted his head to lean into her.

For an extended interval, they merely respired.

The quiet held no void this instance.

It conveyed warmth and solace.

Shared recollections floated amid them—drills, rebukes, her teachings, his resistance, her reluctant admiration. She had witnessed his transformation into a beast, a redeemer, a divine force. She had sacrificed for him. He had brought her back. Their tie transcended ordinary bonds.

"I miss her," Gustav murmured.

Miss Aimee's visage flickered.

"I understand," she replied gently. "And that longing endures. Such a loss… it never fully mends."

She caressed his tresses softly. "…yet injuries need not remain raw indefinitely."

Gustav kept mute for a prolonged span.

Then he raised his head, meeting her eyes squarely.

"Thank you," he breathed.

She offered a subtle grin.

They conversed for extended hours thereafter... on Angy, on her desires, on the intensity of her devotion to him, on the offspring denied existence.

They delved into past recollections.

Agonizing ones.

Comforting ones.

Miss Aimee had ever been severe, rigid, and biting, yet in this instant, her tenderness shone uniquely hers.

And Gustav…

for the initial time across centuries…

permitted the burden of all he had sealed away to surface.

Gradually, the dialogue eased. Their utterances decelerated. Their gazes lingered extendedly.

Then Miss Aimee drew a deep breath, and her words emerged hushed.

"Gustav… shut your eyes."

He fluttered his lids.

She drew nearer.

"I wish to ease your pain," she murmured.

Ere he could answer, she eased him rearward.

The crimson coat unfurled below him as he reclined upon the light stone.

Miss Aimee positioned herself astride him, knees bracketing his midsection, her stare fixed upon his with a look unfamiliar from her.

No derision appeared.

No jesting.

No conceit.

Merely unfiltered, yearning fondness.

Suffering.

Gentleness.

Desire.

A bond spanning ages, warped by mourning.

Gustav's respiration caught subtly. He recognized at once... this strayed from her typical jests.

She extended downward gradually, cradling his visage between her palms. Her digits grazed his cheeks. Her brow descended until it met his.

"Don't flee from this," she breathed.

He refrained...

An instant elapsed and their mouths joined.

A heat permeated the frigid hollow of his torso...

Her garment slackened about her as she bent over him. Her exhalations blended with his as her fingers quivered faintly despite her standard poise.

The faint lavender heavens overhead appeared to waver as subdued sighs and groans echoed in gentle swells through the area.

●●●

At the same time...

In distant cosmic voids... within a separate realm...

A newborn drifted bearing dark, searing blemishes over its form. Its lids sealed tight, yet it appeared to respire, which defied possibility amid stellar emptiness.

It adrift for epochs...

And epochs...

And epochs...

Preserving its state as though chronology denied progression for it.

And abruptly, an odd human-like form with an extended pale beard and a rod neared it, face etched with total astonishment and bewilderment.

'An infant? How?' His mind raced.

He advanced to seize the newborn and, following a lengthy hesitation, soared away into the void.

THE END.

Author's Note:

Gratitude to all who reached this point.

Thanks to every one of you for the backing from the beginning. I value each of you deeply. Our voyage commenced five years back, and during this span, I've gained much and advanced considerably. I'll skip the lengthy recounting to avoid tedium. The Bloodline System concludes at this juncture, and your encouragement propelled it here. A prequel or sequel may emerge—who can say... decision pending.

That said, I'll share several supplementary chapters soon. Savor them :)