The rain intensified, turning the Sunless District into a blurred landscape of grey and black. Inside the tavern, the silence was heavier than the storm.
The two remaining Council members backed away, their boots crunching on the shattered remains of their leader's pride. They looked at Elias—or rather, they looked at the Thing that was wearing Elias's skin.
[Synchronization Rate: 2.1%]
[Side Effect: Sensory Displacement]
[Status: Subject is losing the concept of "Human Language." Thought patterns shifting to "Primal Intent."]
Elias felt a cold, oily sensation sliding down his spine. His left arm, the one that had shattered the divine blade, was no longer his. It felt heavy, covered in invisible fur and thick with the muscle of a beast that had once wrestled the Bull of Heaven.
"Call for the High Avatar," one of the swordsmen hissed to his partner, his voice trembling. "This isn't a minor breach. This is a Sovereign Echo."
The swordsman reached for a golden medallion at his neck—a communication relic linked to the Seventh Hanging.
"No... more... chains," the voice of Enkidu roared in Elias's mind.
Elias didn't think. He acted.
Before the man could touch the medallion, Elias lunged. He didn't use a sword or a spell. He used a Concept. In the "Mythic Entanglement" system, at this stage, you don't just hit an enemy; you impose your God's history onto theirs.
[Mythic Skill: Echo of the Untamed Forest]
The tavern floor suddenly sprouted thick, black vines made of solidified shadow and ancient dirt. These weren't plants; they were the "Memory of the First Wilderness." They wrapped around the swordsman's legs, their thorns piercing his enchanted armor.
"Agh! My legs! They're... they're rotting!" the man screamed.
The "Holiness" of the Council was being consumed by the "Profanity" of the Void. This was the fundamental law of the Heptarchy: The older the Myth, the heavier its weight. The Olympians were "New Gods" compared to the primordial forces Elias was tapping into.
But the cost was immediate.
Elias coughed, and a spray of black blood hit the floor. His vision blurred. He saw a flash of a woman with long, flowing hair—Shamhat, the one who had civilized Enkidu. For a moment, he forgot his own mother's face. He forgot his name. He was just a wild thing in a cage of wood and stone.
"Elias! Stop!"
A new voice cut through the chaos. A young woman stood at the hole in the wall. She wore the tattered cloak of a "Scavenger," and her eyes were wide with a mix of awe and terror. This was Sarah, the only person who knew Elias was searching for the tablet.
"You're losing yourself!" she cried, stepping over the debris. "Your eyes... they're not human anymore!"
The second swordsman saw his chance. He ignited his remaining power, his body glowing with a blinding white light—the Aura of Ares. He swung his broken blade at Sarah, hoping to use her as a distraction.
"If I go down, the girl dies!" he roared.
Time slowed. Elias felt the Synchronization Rate spike.
[Sync Rate: 3.5%]
[Warning: Permanent Neural Grafting imminent. The "Blank Canvas" is being overwritten.]
Elias didn't care. He reached out, his obsidian fingers clawing at the very air. He didn't grab the swordsman; he grabbed the Golden Aura itself. He tore the light away from the man's body as if he were peeling skin from fruit.
The swordsman collapsed, his connection to the Seventh Hanging severed. Without the "Divine Grace" of his god, he was nothing but a hollow shell. He aged fifty years in five seconds, his hair turning white and his skin sagging.
Elias stood over them, his chest heaving. The violet runes on his skin began to pulse with a rhythmic, low hum.
"We have to go," Sarah whispered, grabbing his un-veined hand. "The Council... they'll drop a 'Sky-Bolt' on this entire district to kill you. They won't let a Sumerian Echo walk the Middle Layer."
Elias looked at her. For a terrifying second, his eyes remained those of a golden-eyed beast. Then, the obsidian veins receded. The tablet in his hand turned cold and dull again.
"The Sky-Bolt won't be enough," Elias said, his voice now a raspy, terrifying mix of two worlds. "I've seen their 'Aether.' It's a palace built on a graveyard. And I'm going to make sure they join the dead."
As they disappeared into the rain, a massive golden eye opened in the clouds above the city. The Seventh Hanging had noticed. The "Heptarchy" was no longer a stable prison.