Chapter 7: Captured by the Architect
Elias Astren walked through the deteriorating industrial district, a reminder of the city's forgotten history. Rusted metal beams loomed overhead, softened by dust and shadows. A small flash of light illuminated the meeting place, creating distorted patterns against the disintegrating concrete walls.
Elias's heart raced as he approached the designated location, where the echoes of long-silenced machinery blended with murmurs of insurrection. His thoughts became a mix of hope and anxiety. An informant, claiming to have critical knowledge regarding the Council's plans, had brought him news. However, doubts began to creep in.
Was this really an opportunity to strike back, or was he falling into another trap?
He shook his head, trying to ignore the nagging suspicion that tugged at his core. The truth about the Architect and Ethereon had to be revealed, and every second was crucial.
Elias entered the dimly lit area and looked for indications of life. The aroma of rust mixed with something metallic hung in the air. Shadows danced across piles of garbage, and rusty machinery lay scattered about like discarded remnants of a difficult age long past.
A voice broke through the hazy hush.
"Elias!"
He turned to see Lyra, a former colleague from his research team, emerging from behind a stack of crates. Her face was full of urgency, which clashed with her relaxed posture.
"Lyra," he said, concealing his skepticism with fake enthusiasm. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"We have much to discuss." She gestured towards a dark alcove. "Come on, we can't risk attracting attention."
Moving further into the shadows, Elias paused for a moment, doubt eating away at him. Lyra had been among the first to experiment with Ethereon, and they had experienced both successes and failures. Hard work in their sector earned trust, but desperation often blurred boundaries.
As they fell into relative obscurity, Elias leaned in closer. "You said you had information on the Council's operations?"
Lyra shifted uncomfortably under his gaze before speaking again, softly. "I do—"
Before she could finish her thought, turmoil ensued.
A dazzling light shone through the darkness as elite enforcers surged into view, their black uniforms gleaming ominously under flickering bulbs—a frightening squadron carrying confinement technology specifically intended for Ethereon anomalies.
"Elias Astren," one exclaimed, accompanied by a mechanical distortion that sent shivers down Elias' spine. "You are under arrest."
Panic overtook him as adrenaline flowed through his veins like fire igniting dry kindling.
"Lyra!" He turned to her, seeking answers in the midst of rising bewilderment.
But she took a step away from him, creating a divide between them. Her expression shifted—from desperation to something sinister.
"You're too far gone," she stated bluntly, almost pityingly.
Betrayal ripped through him like a razor, and all of their late-night conversations and shared ambitions fell before him.
Without thinking, Elias surged forward just as one of the enforcers activated their confinement device. A burst of violet energy crackled around it before flying towards him like a thunderbolt.
He dodged reflexively but tripped on uneven terrain. Terror rose as he heard more footsteps approaching.
"Fight back! Don't let them take you!" he yelled at himself, sliding backward into a pile of scrap metal that sliced deeply into his palms.
The enforcers advanced deliberately, weapons positioned as if they were playing a complex game with a predetermined outcome. Elias couldn't afford to be hesitant anymore. He lunged forward, knowing how ridiculous it was to take on an entire squad alone.
He swung violently at one enforcer, but their reinforced gauntlet struck his wrist, sending a stinging pain up his arm as he temporarily lost control of his movements.
Another enforcer closed in from behind, sending an electric jolt through Elias' body as their equipment made direct contact with him. Agony erupted along every nerve ending as darkness threatened to devour him completely.
"Resist," one mockingly said through gritted teeth, as others circled him like animals weighing up their prey. "You know what happens next."
Desperation drove him even deeper; instinct commanded survival even as intellect cried surrender.
Elias twisted free and lashed out again, but one well-placed kick threw him off balance. Another energy pulse hit its mark, sending him crashing onto cold concrete. Above him, swirling lights and shadowy figures closed in.
The world became blurry around the edges. Faces contorted with determination hovered just beyond reach as he fought against unconsciousness. Tendrils of darkness snaked around his limbs, ready to pull him under completely.
A voice echoed somewhere distant, calling out half-formed words that could have been either rescue or condemnation.
Then everything faded away.
Oblivion took him whole.
Elias jolted awake, gasping for air. Cold air hurt his skin, and the low hum of machinery enveloped him like a phantom choir. Blinking against the bright fluorescent lighting, he took in his surroundings: a sterile facility with cold metal surfaces and flickering screens. A slight odor of antiseptic persisted, mixed with something else that made his stomach turn.
He was chained on a metal table, with restraints pressing into his wrists and ankles. Panic rose as he fought against them, but they remained solid, biting deeper with each thrash. The clank of equipment sounded ominously in the silence.
As his vision sharpened, terror seized him more tightly than any binding. Containment chambers dotted the walls, each containing horrific figures suspended in a viscous liquid. Elias's heartbeat raced as he recognized their features—deformed faces mangled by the Ethereon experiments he once thought could hold hope. These were more than just test subjects; they were the victims of a system gone horribly wrong.
"No..." The word fled him like a whisper of denial.
He struggled against the shackles again, wrath rising from inside. What had once been an inquiry of scientific possibility had now devolved into a perversion of everything he stood for: his stabilization research had become a tool of torture. Memories raced before him: late hours in the lab, once full of enthusiasm and optimism, had turned into nightmares.
A series of heavy footsteps approached from behind him, and Elias' heart raced as he twisted his head just enough to see individuals in lab coats walking purposefully around the room. Unconcerned about his condition, they focused their attention on machinery and computer screens, scrutinizing facts that felt both familiar and strange.
Suddenly, one person stood out from the crowd: tall and imposing, bathed in an eerie brilliance that cut sharp shadows across the sterile floor. The Architect loomed before him, a corporeal incarnation of authority cloaked in arrogance.
"Elias Astren," the Architect's voice rang through the chamber like thunder in a stormy sky. "You have been quite a nuisance."
The comment struck Elias like a physical blow, instilling fear and hatred in him. How could this horrible thing stand before him so casually, holding such overwhelming power?
"You think you can silence me?" Elias spat back, fighting further against his restraints. "This won't end well for you."
The Architect just inclined his head slightly, a predatory gesture devoid of emotion or empathy.
"Your resistance is amusing." He took a step closer, the distorted patterns shifting across a being that defied description. "But it will not save you."
Machines began to whir about Elias as if on cue, with sinister lights flashing on wall panels. He realized they weren't just for show; they contained technology designed to gather information from him or, worse, harness whatever power lay dormant within him.
"What do you want from me?" Elias screamed defiantly, despite his growing horror.
The Architect's smile was thin—sharp enough to cut through glass but without warmth or sympathy.
"You have knowledge," he said matter-of-factly. "Knowledge we require to further our understanding of Ethereon."
Elias recoiled at the revelation—the Architect intended to use him as another pawn in this game where lives were nothing more than data points on a chart or raw material for experiments.
His thoughts reverted to Oris' cautions about the same reality: the existence of facilities beneath Vastion Prime, where truths were concealed and experimentation continued unchecked for decades.
He couldn't let this tragedy go unabated.
With newfound determination seething inside him like molten steel, Elias focused all of his effort on breaking free from the constraints as terror raced through him again—but it was pointless; no matter how hard he battled against them, they remained strong in their resistance.
With every desperate heartbeat, he felt echoes from inside those containment chambers. It was the spirits trapped there, pleading for help in a way that he could not quite grasp but was very familiar. It resembled a chorus cautioning him against succumbing to unknown forces.
As machines powered up around him, with electric whirs and clicks filling every available space like insistent whispers urging compliance at any cost, Elias mentally prepared himself for whatever unspeakable experiment awaited him next—a horrifying crescendo approaching fast like an impending storm, promising devastation without respite.
The Architect's voice cut through the chaos like glass shards breaking apart lives forever linked:
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"Let us begin."
With that terrifying pronouncement reverberating through dimly lit halls saturated in desperation, a new nightmare unfolded before Elias' open eyes, while darkness enveloped every shred surviving inside...
Elias lay strapped to the cold metal table, his breath shallow and quick as he struggled against the handcuffs that kept him hostage. The Architect's voice echoed across the chamber, an eerie song infused with authority and malevolent intent.
"Transcendence through suffering," the Architect said, reading from old Vaelari manuscripts as if performing a ceremony. The words hung heavily in the air, echoing off sterile walls lined with containment rooms filled with twisted forms—souls imprisoned in the grip of misery, eternally altered by Ethereon.
As the machines came to life around him, Elias felt an invisible force coil in his chest. It wasn't simply fear, but a growing understanding of what was ahead. He remembered Oris' warnings about Ethereon's evil potential—the toll it exacted on those who got too close.
Fragments of recollections apart from his own rushed through his head. Visions swirled before him, like ghosts conjured from the abyss. He saw the Vaelari colonies, beautiful cities blossoming beneath glittering skies, but then darkness fell like a blanket. He saw shadows flicker across joyful faces transform into dread as gigantic energy syphons plummeted from above, devouring everything in their path.
He braced himself against a surge of nausea as a new vision dawned on him: white-coated scientists overseeing rows of frightened Vaelari individuals shackled to apparatus. Screams reverberated in his ears, a symphony of agony performed for the delight of power-hungry monsters. They removed life essence with icy precision, turning vibrant beings into simple resources.
The Architect's voice cut through the visions, providing unsettling commentary on each hideous scene.
"Suffering is only a step towards greatness," he continued. "Only through this crucible can one ascend."
Elias' body convulsed as violet energy flooded into him, burning every nerve ending with agonising intensity. He moaned, fighting against the shackles, which felt tighter than iron chains and were now filled with suffering.
His veins flashed beneath his skin, a bright violet that beat rhythmically as if responding to an invisible summons. Every heartbeat enhanced the radiance, making it throb like a live organism attempting to escape its bounds.
A part of him wanted to scream, to fight against whatever process was consuming him, but terror held him still as another wave of ethereal energy smashed over him like a tidal wave.
Visions blurred into confusion, moments stretching and warping until they fused into one long tapestry woven with misery and despair—the Vaelari's downfall mingled with his own, creating an insidious tie between their fates.
"Elias Astren," whispered something deep inside the Ethereon—a vast and inexplicable entity. It was more than just energy; it pulsed with sentience, a chaotic awareness yearning for something beyond simple existence.
"You have become one of us."
Elias experienced a chilling realisation, accompanied by a surge of warmth that was both intoxicating and repulsive, a unique blend of bliss and terror he had never encountered before.
"No!" he choked out between gritted teeth, struggling with both bodily restraints and psychological dread. But there was no way out of this madness; there never was.
The containment zone around him flickered wildly, indicating instability caused by the rising turmoil within him. Each pulse of violet energy emanating from Elias' veins caused machines to hum louder, desperately attempting to stabilize what was uncontrollable.
Each surge brought more visions—more memories filling his head like surging water, threatening to drown out everything else:
He imagined himself standing among desolation—hills covered with ash where once stood proud constructions blazing beneath strange suns. He felt tremendous grief infiltrate every fibre of his body, as if he had inherited the agony of those who had passed away—a visceral pain that crushed against his chest like an iron weight.
"No! This cannot be my fate!" Elias yelled internally as tears flowed down his cheeks, his resistance fading under the pressure of this awful knowledge, which mixed with raw strength coursing through him.
Suddenly, clarity emerged from within these disjointed images: Elias realised he was being fashioned into an instrument for future destruction—a new harbinger in service to the Architect's vision. His nature threatened to change into something horrible, another tool made by brutality concealed behind polished words declaring transcendence.
"Embrace your destiny," urged the bodiless voice once more. It was like a siren's call, offering knowledge beyond understanding in exchange for unimaginable sacrifices.
And just as he feared he may break beneath the pressure, the Ethereon surged furiously within him again, and time broke utterly.
Elias could feel reality breaking apart around him. Waves slammed into barriers that were trying to stop them, and ethereal shadows danced just out of sight. Each whisper promised power and eternity at unimaginable costs, and each vision showed untold secrets waiting on fragile lips, ready to fall into darkness again.
He clutched tenaciously to whatever bits of himself were intact in this time frozen between worlds—lost amid stormy seas threatening annihilation or ascendance—before being washed away completely into oblivion...
Elias felt an explosion of energy whirling within him, intensifying as the Architect's demand reverberated across the antiseptic laboratory. The cool, clinical surroundings changed around him; equipment buzzed ominously, vibrating with a sense of anxiety.
"Push it further," the Architect said, his voice dripping with contempt. "We need to increase the injection. The potential is too big to ignore."
Elias' pulse pounded with fiery wrath, not dread, as technicians scrambled to comply. This was no ordinary experiment; he had become a canvas for someone else's goals, an unwelcome brushstroke in a dark masterpiece of pain.
They meant to turn him into a weapon—a successor to their perverted designs—and he realized how much they had underestimated him. The feeling of betrayal wrenched in his gut as he remembered all the lives lost as a result of Ethereon's insatiable hunger, how it had sucked the essence from the innocent and turned it into power for those who simply desired dominion over existence itself.
"No more!" Elias yelled inside his head, each pulse of violet energy escalating his rage. Were they trying to manipulate him? Were they attempting to seize what they believed was rightfully theirs? No, he wasn't a puppet controlled by wealth and ambition. He symbolized everything taken from victims of this terrible society.
As the machinery around him hummed louder, he felt something shift within him—something dark but exhilarating. Ethereon did more than just destroy; it unveiled realities buried beneath layers of deception and oppression. It shed light on tragedies while forging new paths via previously unknown realities. It was more than just a source of strength; it was a mirror that revealed the darkest characteristics of its wielders.
Elias clenched his hands as the techs worked furiously, tweaking knobs and pushing levers as if they could capture the power that rushed within him.
"Now!" someone exclaimed.
The machines roared, unleashing fresh waves of violet light that raced through Elias' body like a wildfire across parched grasslands. Every ounce of energy he received fueled his rage, causing an eruption that demanded release.
His vision blurred as ethereal forces burst in a bright show, overwhelming everything else—the sights and noises faded away, leaving only primal instinct.
Then it happened: the first uncontrollable surge.
Elias let out a primal scream, triggering an explosion of Ethereon energy that reverberated with terrible intensity. The containment chamber shook violently as waves rushed against its reinforced walls, and glass cracked like delicate ice underfoot. Instruments clattered and sparks flew as the apparatus folded under the attack.
Scientists were thrown backward like ragdolls caught in a storm, their emotions shifting from concentrated resolve to pure panic in seconds as they became collateral damage in their experiment gone wrong.
The Architect stayed still in the midst of the commotion, maintaining his authority even as debris flew past him. He kept his cold eyes on Elias, but they were looking at him with unsettling interest instead of fear. He was like a smart observer watching an unexpected turn in the game he had carefully planned.
"You're not ready yet," he said almost dismissively, his voice firm against the noise around them.
An anger flickered across his features, barely apparent yet present, as he activated some concealed failsafe device implanted deep inside the lab's construction.
Elias barely registered the movement before reality shifted again—the air around him thickened into something substantial yet ephemeral, forming an emergency barrier that trapped him in a collapsing pocket laced with Ethereon energy.
He thrashed against unseen connections that held him even tighter than before, his consciousness slipping away amid swirls of chaotic violet light that encompassed him completely. Desperation ripped at him; he fought back against the growing darkness while glimpses of scientists wrestled nearby—some attempting to regain control over malfunctioning apparatus, others desperately attempting to flee to safety.
But until this cycle was totally upended beneath heavy realities revealed by Elias' metamorphosis into something bigger than himself or anybody who had harmed others before him, there would be no way out now—not for any of them.
In the few minutes before sleep drew him completely into oblivion's embrace, he noticed the Architect's stubborn expression—fascination mixed with annoyance—as if watching a volatile storm swell just beyond his grasp, a storm neither expected nor readily contained.
Elias realized he had not just become a part of Ethereon's legacy but had taken ownership of it in ways unimaginable—a harbinger forged by a relentless desire for retribution built upon pain turned into power lying dormant all along.
Elias blinked against the bright white light of the fluorescent lights, which was very different from the dancing shadows in his mind. Pain throbbed in the back of his skull, but more disturbing was the overwhelming sense of being completely alone. The last thing he remembered was the surge—a wild, uncontrolled rush of power that swept over him like a whirlwind. Now, when he gently sat up on the cold metal surface beneath him, perplexity replaced fear.
The room felt strange. Thick walls surrounded him on all sides, and the air was alive with an energy that felt both exotic and deeply familiar. He forced himself up and looked around; ancient Vaelari script adorned the walls, flickering dimly in violet and blue, lighting enigmatic patterns that hinted at something darker—something deadly.
Elias walked closer to the glass wall that separated him from what was beyond. His reflection gazed back at him, a warped image of himself. Under the bright light, his skin appeared pale and translucent, and his veins pulsed with an unearthly glow. But it was his eyes that actually disturbed him: an intense violet flared where there had previously been a warm brown, a shade that seemed to buzz with uncontrollable energy.
When he opened his mouth to shout out, he discovered that it was not just his voice that bounced back, but also an undercurrent, convoluted and almost hypnotic.
"Elias," it whispered. "We are one now."
A shiver ran down his spine as he lurched backward from the glass wall, unable to fathom what had occurred. This wasn't just tiredness or the residual effects of the Ethereon infusion; something fundamental had changed within him.
Panic ripped at Elias' throat as he put his hand against the barrier. When his palm made contact, a ripple spread outward in concentric circles, a vivid response to his presence. The barrier vibrated under his touch, as if alive.
"Escape," the voice groaned again, enticing him with its smooth charm. "Embrace me."
He withdrew his fingers, feeling as though fire had scorched them. Escape represented power—power to oppose those who had used him as an experiment and then discarded him like trash—but at what cost? Would succumbing to this darkness mean losing himself forever? Elias shook at the thought. Everything he fought for, the truth about Ethereon's horrible crimes and how they affected lives that were long since dead, was in jeopardy.
Glimmers of temptation flashed across his head like lightning strikes on a storm cloud.
"You can wield this strength," it whispered sweetly. "No longer will you be their pawn."
Elias gulped hard against rising vomit; visions whirled around him—the devastation of Vaelari colonies loomed huge in memory, like ghosts hanging just out of grasp. He had seen personally how readily information might become a weapon when motivated by ambition rather than ethics.
He tested himself further by focusing inward and reaching for the throbbing energy flowing beneath his skin—the Ethereon coursing through him was both enticing and terrifying.
"Let go," urged the voice again, this time more insistently. "Join me."
With resolution tempered by dread and curiosity, Elias pushed against the barrier again, this time with more force. The ripples grew into waves that threatened to break free completely; they sparked something primal in him—a need for freedom coupled with unbridled power.
"What are you?" he asked openly, not expecting an answer.
"You know who I am."
Echoing Elias's anguish and rage, the voice coiled about him like smoke in the shadows; it was a reflection of the Dark Rabbit, forged of years of fighting a harsh system rife with deceit.
He drew back reflexively as awareness washed over him—he was no longer simply Elias Astren; he was something more complex now—a duality fashioned from sorrow wrapped tightly around wrath, burning fiercely underneath surfaces long locked away.
The old writing on the walls got brighter in response, as if it knew they were connected. It seemed to know what was inside them both: knowledge mixed with pain that was too much for humans to understand, and a dangerously close link to madness hiding under even bigger goals that had not been met.
"Escape this prison," the voice begged again in a seductive way. There was now a heavy invitation veiled in danger between them—a promise rooted deep in shadows that they would be freed from confinement shaped by fears of the past mixed with an insatiable hunger for control that was only limited by time's hold on fate.
Elias fought internal desires that were at odds with each other; doubt fought against purpose, creating a new resolve that rose from the ashes of hopes that were almost extinguished along paths that had been traveled many times but were never quite fulfilled until this moment, just out of reach.
What options remained? He might embrace the monstrous possibility residing so deeply within—or reject every urge pressing ahead into darkness, threatening confidence about who remained after joining essences.