Chapter 402
Phantom recognized the cause: Rattan’s internal conflict was acting as a kind of anchor, preventing the final release. He felt a surge of need and desire to reach out and offer guidance, a push in the right direction. But the explicit instructions of his creator held him back. He was to observe, not interfere. Besides, a part of him, a nascent understanding of narrative and consequence, whispered that this struggle was necessary.
If Rattan was to become the hero his creator envisioned, this was a trial he had to face alone. This moment of doubt, this internal conflict, was a crucible in which his character would be forged. Phantom, bound by his creator’s decree, could only watch.
A new question, however, began to form in Phantom’s own consciousness. "Was this fate?" he wondered, his thoughts echoing in the silent space within Rattan. "Was it Rattan’s destiny to become the hero of his people? Or was it merely a random act, a capricious whim of my creator, who just happened to choose this particular ratman to mark?"
"It just so happened that the ratman chosen was Rattan," he mused, the thought lingering in the quiet space. Suddenly, he shook his head, a wry smile forming on his non-existent lips. He could almost hear his creator’s booming laughter at such a question.
His creator wouldn’t answer with words. He was a being of action, not philosophical debate. He would likely unmark Rattan, mark another random ratman, and then turn to Phantom with a knowing grin, asking, "Was that also done by fate?"
The thought brought a flicker of understanding. Phantom began to grasp the true nature of his assignment. He wasn’t just an observer; he was a catalyst, a facilitator. "I am the spotlight," he realized. Before, on the battlefield, he had been able to manipulate the perception of the general and his men, making them the center of attention, but only within their own minds. To the outside world, they were just a group of confused soldiers.
But now, with Rattan, the spotlight he could create was different. It was no longer confined to the internal world of a few individuals. It was a spotlight that could be seen by others, a stage on which Rattan could emerge. He was there to create the conditions for Rattan to step into that light, to become the figure his creator intended.
His creator had said, "The ratmen’s fate was already set in stone; they would always be oppressed. But with our intervention, that fate will change." Ambition and fate... was this what he was meant to comprehend? The interplay between the two, the delicate balance between destiny and free will?
He was at the boundary of divinity, a threshold he had been striving to cross for eons. Laying low within Rattan, observing the small ratman’s struggles, was not merely obedience to his creator; it was a necessary period of introspection, a time to understand his changing nature, to grasp the true meaning of divinity. He was absorbing the raw, untainted emotions of Rattan, feeling the weight of his doubt, the flicker of hope, the nascent stirrings of courage. It was a stark contrast to the hollow, manufactured emotions he usually dealt with, the inflated egos and desperate desires for fame that fueled his curse.
He could see the faint flicker of ambition beginning to ignite within Rattan, a small spark struggling to grow amidst the overwhelming doubt. It was a fragile flame, easily extinguished, but Phantom knew it had the potential to become a roaring fire. He felt the pull of his curse, the urge to amplify that spark, to create a grand illusion of triumph, to give Rattan a taste of the fame he so desperately craved.
But he resisted. This was not his story to write. He was not there to create a false hero, a puppet dancing to the tune of his curse. He was there to provide the stage, to illuminate the path, but it was Rattan who had to take the first step.