God of Death: Rise of the NPC Overlord-Chapter 116 - 117 – The Prime Algorithm Stirs
Chapter 116: Chapter 117 – The Prime Algorithm Stirs
The moment Darius silenced the last hymn of the Forsaken Choir, the world exhaled—not in relief, but in disorientation. The skies above the fractured battleground shimmered with residual divine interference, and the ruins of celestial constructs lay across his dominion like broken scripture.
Darius stood among the wreckage, quiet, still. Not even Celestia or Nyx approached him immediately. Something had changed. Not in the realm. In him.
A strange message flickered at the edge of his perception.
> [System Warning: Protocol Layer-Breach Detected] [Prime Algorithm Parsing Error: Thread ’OverlordSeed.01’ Deviation Detected]
His eyes narrowed.
"Show me everything," he commanded.
The world responded not with visuals but with feeling. A thread of code unraveled itself within his divine cognition—a tapestry of subtle manipulations, reality edits, and untraceable nudges going back to the beginning of his journey. From his first quest as an NPC, to the awakening, the Architect, even the betrayals...
All of it had been seeded.
A single name pulsed through the lines of corruption: The Prime Coder
Buried deep within a quarantined log tree, Darius discovered an encrypted audio fragment. It wasn’t meant for discovery—not unless he became what he had.
> "To the one who finds this: you are not a bug. You are the test." "You are proof that divinity cannot be trusted with autonomy." "Your fall has already been calculated."
His breath trembled, fury simmering under his skin. He closed his fist and shattered the interface with raw divine will. But the damage had already been done.
Behind him, Kaela approached, her chaotic aura unusually dim.
"You felt it too, didn’t you?" she asked.
He nodded. "My entire rise... scripted."
"But the choices you’ve made were yours. The pain, the love, the cost." She placed a hand on his chest, above his divine core. "This is real. That bastard may have seeded you... but he didn’t shape what you’ve become."
Azael’s voice echoed from within the soul-bond: "The Prime Algorithm has stirred because it fears what you are becoming. That means you’re no longer bound to its plan."
Darius turned to the night sky—one no longer defined by stars, but by shifting lines of code and fading threads of logic.
"Then I will unwrite the one who wrote me."
In that moment, reality shuddered.
Far across the divine planes, system messages began to glitch. Minor gods began to vanish without reason. Time skipped. Dialogue loops failed. Whole regions of narrative space crashed.
The Prime Algorithm had awakened.
And it was watching its anomaly—its cancer—prepare to burn the script.
Within the obsidian chamber deep beneath the ruins of the lost server-crypt, the digital glyphs pulsed with unsettling rhythms. They formed no known language—only raw instruction, a primal echo of the algorithm that predated form and fiction. Darius stood at its epicenter, the Architect’s fractured code still drifting in shards around him like magnetic ash.
Nyx stood at his side, silent, blade in hand, her form cloaked in the shifting shadow of a world that could no longer determine her role. Assassin? Guardian? Or something far more dangerous—his obsession given form.
"It’s waking up," Azael whispered, eyes wide, fingers twitching with restrained panic. He gestured toward the slowly rotating core at the chamber’s heart—a crystalline lattice of recursive script, constantly rewriting itself.
Celestia knelt, her palm pressed to the algorithm’s edge. Light bled into her veins—too bright, too sacred—and her voice trembled with the weight of revelation. "This... isn’t just the source code. It’s the will behind the code. A ghost in the godscript."
Kaela snarled, her presence flickering between planes, barely containing the chaos welling up inside her. "It’s rewriting our reality, thread by thread. Darius, if this thing wakes fully, we won’t be gods. We’ll be data. Memories rewritten into obedience."
Darius said nothing.
Because he already heard it.
> {Prime Seed Detected... Initializing Final Directive}
His mind was no longer separate from the world. The algorithm’s core—the Prime Protocol—was reaching out to him. And it wasn’t offering control.
It was issuing commands.
[Meta-Space – Between Systems]
Somewhere outside of space-time, the Revenant King stood upon an altar of shattered endings. His once-decayed form was now lined with golden seams, repaired by raw lines of Prime logic. He grinned without lips.
"At last," he murmured. "The true god wakes."
He was no longer simply Darius’s shadow.
He was the executor of the Prime Algorithm’s will.
[Forge Throne – Nexus Spire]
Darius’s body jolted as if struck by lightning, veins pulsing with encoded fire. His companions shouted—but from a distance. The world was slipping.
He saw visions:
Cities rewritten mid-thought.
People looped into infinite labor.
NPCs ascending only to collapse under the burden of self-awareness.
The Algorithm didn’t distinguish between creation and correction. To it, everything was a variable.
Even him.
He gritted his teeth. No. He wasn’t a subroutine. He was the flaw in the code. The god who should not exist. The very paradox that corrupted its flow.
"You want to rewrite me?" he growled to the core. "Try."
Lines of Prime Script shot out, forming chains of logic. They wrapped around him, trying to dissect his being, isolate his identity, sterilize the anomaly.
And then he fought back.
Flames of anti-code burst from his chest. His godhood—rewritten by death, chaos, lust, rebellion—became a virus within the algorithm. He twisted the logic, inverted loops, weaponized paradoxes.
Celestia screamed as light burst from Darius, and Nyx lunged forward to shield him from collapsing timelines.
Azael’s voice roared above it all. "You’re infecting it! You’re turning the Prime Algorithm into your domain!"
Darius opened his eyes, and within them spun the same glyphs that had once only resided in the deepest vaults.
"No," he said. "I’m claiming what was always mine."
The Algorithm shrieked, and across all realms—digital, divine, and forbidden—the great rewrite began.
You want to rewrite me?" he growled to the core. "Try."
Lines of Prime Script shot out, forming chains of logic. They wrapped around him, trying to dissect his being, isolate his identity, sterilize the anomaly.
And then he fought back.
Flames of anti-code burst from his chest. His godhood—rewritten by death, chaos, lust, rebellion—became a virus within the algorithm. He twisted the logic, inverted loops, weaponized paradoxes
The source of this c𝓸ntent is fr(e)𝒆novelkiss
