Lucian stood in the void.

  A vast, endless abyss stretched in all directions—no ground beneath his feet, no sky above. Only darkness. Heavy, smothering, eternal.

  His breath was ragged. His hands trembled.

  He knew this place.

  It was the same nightmare that haunted him every time he had tried to reach for power that was not his to take.

  The first time had been a mistake—a desperate attempt to force his Relicarn into awakening. It had nearly consumed him. Had it not been for Father Aldric’s intervention, he did not know what would have happened to him.

  And now he was here again.

  Alone.

  Except…

  The sound of rattling chains slithered through the void.

  A presence stirred in the abyss, shifting like something vast and unseen had merely been waiting for him to return.

  A voice spoke, low and rumbling, laced with an amusement that sent ice down his spine.

  "Ah… back again… How easily you break, little one."

  Lucian clenched his fists. The voice was deep, crawling into the marrow of his bones. It did not echo, yet it surrounded him from all sides, as though it were speaking directly into his mind.

  "You have seen it now, haven’t you?" the voice murmured. "The horrors of battle. The weakness in your limbs. The helplessness as your comrades fell, one by one."

  Lucian's throat felt tight.

  He saw it—Tarek, crumpled from taking the blow meant for him. Renn, buried under the ruins of her cover. Fey, gasping, blood dripping from her lips. Isla, screaming in agony as she burned herself from the inside out.

  The voice hummed, almost tender.

  "And you? What did you do? Did you save them? Did you stop any of it?"

  Lucian shut his eyes. He wanted to block it out. He wanted to deny it.

  But he couldn’t.

  He had done nothing.

  A cold chuckle reverberated through the darkness. "So small. So weak. And yet, you still refuse me?"

  Lucian flinched as a chain rattled violently in the abyss. The weight of the presence inched closer, curling around him like unseen talons.

  "I can give you power," the voice whispered. "The strength to tear that thing apart. To ensure no one else falls before your eyes. All I ask… is a chance."

  Lucian's breath hitched. "A chance…?"

  "Let me take over." The voice purred, coaxing. "Let me guide you. Let me make you unstoppable."

  A crushing pressure pressed against his mind. The sheer weight of the presence sent shivers down his spine. He gritted his teeth.

  "No—" Lucian whispered. "No, I—"

  "What will you do, then?" The voice cut him off. "Continue to crawl? Continue to watch them die while you tremble? You will lose them all, Lucian. One by one. Until you are alone."

  Lucian dropped to his knees, hands shaking. His body wanted to give in. The despair clawed at him, threatening to drown him whole.

  Then—

  A warmth.

  A hand on his shoulder.

  Lucian’s eyes widened. He turned his head—

  And saw him.

  Father Aldric.

  His robes fluttered despite the stillness of the void. His expression was calm, his golden eyes filled with something Lucian had nearly forgotten.

  Trust.

  The voice in the abyss recoiled slightly. A shift. A pause.

  Aldric’s lips barely moved, but Lucian heard him as clearly as if he had whispered into his very soul.

  "Have courage."

  Lucian gasped, reaching for him—but the warmth faded. The figure of his mentor dissolved into the abyss like a fading ember.

  His fingers curled into a fist.

  No.

  No, he couldn’t give in. Not like this.

  Lucian clenched his teeth, forcing himself to breathe.

  His hand trembled against his chest, but then—he felt something small press against his fingers.

  The charm.

  The sun emblem from the boy in the village.

  His eyes locked onto it.

  A symbol of hope. A reminder of who he was.

  Slowly—Lucian stood.

  The abyss did not shake. The chains did not rattle.

  But the voice grew… quieter.

  "You refuse me?" it murmured, almost intrigued.

  Lucian exhaled, steadying his stance. "I need power." His voice did not waver. "But not at the cost of myself."

  The voice let out a soft, breathy chuckle. "You think you have a choice?"

  Lucian’s eyes hardened. "You’re bound in chains. And you know it."

  A beat of silence.

  Then—a single, deep laugh.

  "Clever boy."

  Lucian’s heartbeat steadied. "You need me as much as I need you. So let’s bargain."

  The abyss shifted.

  For the first time, Lucian felt the voice hesitate.

  "And why would I bargain with you?" The voice sounded almost amused, but there was an edge to it now. "I will simply wait. You will break eventually. And when you do, I will take everything."

  Lucian clenched his fists. "Because if you don’t—" He met the darkness with unwavering defiance. "You will be locked in here forever."

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  The silence stretched.

  Then—the chains shuddered.

  The abyss rippled.

  And the voice… laughed. Deep, resounding, amused.

  "Very well." The voice purred, dark and pleased. "A bargain, then. Each time you call upon me—each time you wield the power I lend you… the chains will loosen. The door will inch open."

  Lucian exhaled slowly.

  "Do we have a deal, boy?" The voice was expectant now, filled with an eerie satisfaction.

  Lucian did not hesitate.

  He lifted his chin.

  "Name your price."

  The abyss trembled with delight.

  "Then let us begin."

  The chains groaned.

  The air collapsed inward.

  And the darkness swallowed him whole.

  Lucian stood in the endless void, his form small against the weight of the abyss surrounding him. Yet, this time, he did not tremble as he once did. He had spoken—bargained—with the voice, and the monster in the dark had agreed.

  Still, one final question remained.

  Lucian took a breath, steadying himself before asking, "How do I wield your power?"

  The answer came in a slow, amused chuckle—low and reverberating, shaking the air around him as if the abyss itself was laughing.

  "Foolish child," the voice purred, its tone dripping with amusement. "You already know the answer."

  Lucian’s fists clenched. It always did this. Always speaking in riddles, always withholding.

  Before he could press further, the voice continued.

  "Of course, by calling my name."

  Lucian frowned. There had to be more to it. Something hidden.

  The voice sighed, as if indulging a child who did not yet understand the world. Then, its tone grew heavier, more deliberate.

  "But understand this, boy. The power I lend you now… is only a fraction of what I am."

  A pause. The chains in the void rattled, the pressure in the air thickening.

  "You are not worthy to wield my true name."

  Lucian's jaw tightened. He knew it was the truth. He was not strong enough. Not yet. But it was his goal—to become stronger, to one day stand on his own, conquering this presence lurking inside him.

  Still, he needed to know.

  "Are you my Relicarn?" Lucian asked, his voice firm.

  The abyss stirred. Chains rattled in the distance.

  Then, the voice let out a slow, guttural chuckle—deep, rich, and full of something unreadable.

  "Hmm… I wonder?"

  Lucian's breath caught in his throat.

  The voice slithered around him, weaving between the chains in the dark. "Perhaps I am… Perhaps I am not… What do you think, boy?"

  Lucian exhaled sharply. Half-truth. Half-lie.

  It was playing with him.

  But he had no choice. This wasn’t the time to argue. The battlefield was waiting. His comrades were waiting. He needed power now.

  The voice must have sensed his urgency. It hummed in satisfaction.

  "Very well." A pause. "You need only say a fraction of my name."

  The battlefield stood frozen.

  The clash between Holt and Vraxxis had momentarily halted, both warriors instinctively sensing the sudden shift in the air.

  A pressure unlike anything before.

  A deep, suffocating weight that gripped the battlefield in unseen hands.

  Then—

  Lucian moved.

  His body straightened. His arms hung loosely by his sides, yet his stance was unnervingly relaxed—calm in a way that no battered warrior should be.

  His eyes snapped open.

  The dark blue aura surged, no longer flickering—but alive.

  And then—he spoke.

  "Gildren."

  BOOM.

  The moment the name left his lips, a violent shockwave erupted outward, its sheer force cracking the very earth beneath him. The air shuddered as an explosion of raw, darkened Ascen energy detonated from Lucian’s core, spreading like a tidal wave.

  The impact rippled through the battlefield.

  Holt and Vraxxis, locked in battle, both staggered, instinctively raising their defenses against the incoming force.

  Elara, still weak from exhaustion, dug her heels into the dirt, bracing herself as the wind howled past her.

  Vraxxis’ abyssal form shuddered. For the first time—his body recoiled. His predatory gaze snapped toward the epicenter of the blast, his grip tightening around his weapon.

  And then—they all saw it.

  Lucian stood at the center of the devastation, his body now veiled in dark blue aura—an eerie, commanding presence emanating from his frame.

  And on his hands—

  They had formed.

  The imperfect version of his Relicarn.

  Dark iron-clad gauntlets now wrapped around his forearms, the plating etched with faint, incomplete engravings that pulsed with unstable energy. The gold hue that should have been radiant was instead dulled, as if the weapon itself was only half-formed—not yet whole.

  But despite its incomplete nature—

  It was strong.

  Lucian flexed his fingers, testing the weight of the gauntlets. His breath was steady. His mind clear.

  For the first time in the battle—

  He felt no pain. No exhaustion.

  Only power.

  Vraxxis' gaze darkened, his claws gripping his corrupted blade tighter. A slow realization crawled over him.

  This was not the same boy he had fought moments ago.

  This was something else.

  Something awakening.

  And then—Lucian moved.

  Vraxxis studied Lucian, his abyssal eyes narrowing as the boy walked toward him—slow, deliberate, his presence suffocating.

  Lucian’s gaze pierced straight through him, filled with an unrelenting, smoldering rage. Not hesitation. Not uncertainty. Pure, focused fury.

  For the first time since his evolution—Vraxxis felt it.

  Not just fear.

  True fear.

  His mind screamed at him—this wasn’t right. A child, a mere boy, should not carry such an overwhelming presence. But no matter how he tried to justify it, the truth pressed against him like a vice.

  This boy was different.

  Lucian didn’t stop. His pace remained unhurried, controlled. But then—

  He vanished.

  Vraxxis’ eyes widened.

  Where—

  A shadow flickered.

  Before he could even process it—

  BOOM!

  A crushing force collided with his face.

  The world twisted violently. A shockwave erupted outward, tearing through the battlefield.

  Vraxxis’ body caved under the sheer impact.

  His knees buckled. His hulking form slammed into the dirt.

  For the first time—he knelt.

  The ground trembled beneath him, his vision blurred from the devastating force. His body refused to respond. But before he could even gather himself—

  Lucian was already there.

  Another shadow.

  Another blur.

  A brutal uppercut struck him beneath the chin.

  The force launched him skyward.

  Vraxxis’ massive frame twisted, his body weightless against the sheer strength behind the strike.

  Impossible.

  No—unthinkable.

  He couldn’t move.

  No, it wasn’t that he couldn’t—he wasn’t allowed to.

  Lucian controlled this fight.

  As his body soared into the sky, his mind barely processed the next horror.

  Lucian was already waiting above him.

  Vraxxis’ abyssal eyes flickered upward.

  There he was.

  The boy.

  A dark blue aura raged around him, his right hand drawn back—energy crackling like a storm barely restrained.

  Vraxxis’ chest tightened.

  Another strike.

  Twice the force.

  BOOM.

  The impact sent him hurtling toward the ground like a falling meteor.

  The battlefield shook.

  A deafening crater formed upon impact, cracks webbing across the earth.

  Dust and debris exploded outward.

  The force rippled through the air, sending a powerful shockwave that nearly knocked Holt off his feet.

  He barely reacted—his mind still trying to comprehend what he was witnessing.

  “This…” Holt’s voice was hoarse, disbelieving. “This isn’t real.”

  He turned toward Captain Elara, expecting some form of understanding, some explanation—anything.

  But her face mirrored his own.

  She was speechless.

  Even she—**the Captain, the strongest of them all—**had never seen anything like this.

  This wasn’t just power.

  This was something else entirely.

  A force beyond reason.

  A force wearing the body of a thirteen-year-old boy.

  Holt swallowed, a cold shudder running down his spine.

  The beast they had struggled to kill—the nightmare they had spent everything fighting—

  Was being annihilated.

  And it wasn’t struggling.

  It wasn’t fighting back.

  It wasn’t allowed to.

  Vraxxis lay in the crater, his massive body twitching.

  Broken.

  Shattered.

  And yet—Lucian was already walking toward him.

  His pace slow, calculated.

  Not an ounce of hesitation.

  His dark blue aura pulsed violently, devouring the very air around him.

  Vraxxis, gasping, tried to push himself up—his pride refusing to let him stay down.

  Lucian tilted his head slightly, then spoke.

  “Stand up.”

  His voice was cold.

  Emotionless.

  But beneath the calm, beneath the control—

  Rage.

  A seething, simmering rage barely contained.

  “You’re not done paying for what you did to them.”

  Vraxxis’ claws dug into the dirt.

  He had to kill this boy.

  Now.

  Before it was too late.

  Before this thing became something even worse.

  He let out a guttural roar—not of dominance, but desperation.

  Dark energy crackled around his broken form, his abyssal power surging to the edge of his blade.

  If he didn’t end this now—

  He was dead.

  Vraxxis lunged forward, his corrupted sword raised high, energy twisting violently along its jagged edge.

  He swung.

  A full-force, last-ditch effort—everything he had left.

  The moment his blade neared Lucian—

  It stopped.

  Vraxxis’ eyes widened.

  Lucian hadn’t dodged.

  He hadn’t moved.

  He had simply caught the blade.

  With one hand.

  The golden plating of his imperfect Gildren gauntlet gripped the void-tainted edge, holding it still as if it were nothing.

  A still silence.

  Then—

  Vraxxis’ stomach twisted.

  Cold terror crawled through his veins.

  Lucian’s piercing gaze locked onto him.

  His grip tightened.

  “You’re done.”

  Then—

  Lucian vanished.

  Vraxxis barely registered the movement before—

  BOOM.

  Lucian reappeared airborne, high above.

  His right fist pulled back.

  His dark blue aura surged, coiling like a violent storm.

  A single name echoed through the battlefield—

  “Abyss Breaker.”

  Then—

  Impact.

  A maelstrom of destruction consumed the battlefield.

  A force so devastating it ripped apart the air itself.

  A blinding explosion of dark blue energy—

  Like a meteor crashing into the earth.

  Everything shook.

  Everything trembled.

  The world itself seemed to warp from the sheer force.

  Silence.

  Then—

  The dust settled.

  The battlefield was unrecognizable.

  Where Vraxxis once stood—

  There was nothing.

  Nothing but the ruined, half-destroyed husk of a once-feared monster.

  His massive form twitched, half of his face and body gone.

  His abyssal aura fading.

  He could barely move.

  Could barely breathe.

  He was dying.

  Lucian stood above him, his expression unreadable.

  Vraxxis’ abyssal gaze flickered—his breath ragged.

  His lips parted.

  “What… are you…?”

  Lucian’s darkened eyes peered down at him—cold, emotionless.

  His voice was barely above a whisper.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Then—he ended it.

  The battle was over.

  Vraxxis was dead.