Something shifted on the altar. A figure, hunched and shrouded in torn, ash-colored robes, bound in layered chains that shimmered faintly with protective runes. Its face was hidden beneath a hood, its limbs thin, stretched unnaturally long. The air around it crackled with a pressure Adrien couldn't place.
The voice spoke again—clearer this time.
"You've come a long way, haven't you? Let me guess... chasing shadows. Seeking truth."
Adrien didn't reply. His stance was ready.
The chained figure tilted its head, amused.
"No need to be scared. If I meant to kill you, you'd already be ash. But you're not the first to come down here. The others... they screamed more."
Adrien's expression flickered.
He stepped back, jaw tight.
Behind him, the distant sound of shifting stone echoed through the vast chamber. Nyxaris's hackles bristled, a deep growl rolling in its throat.
The chains around the prisoner trembled.
Something old stirred in the walls.
"You've come seeking something… but all paths forward require pain. If you're ready, step forward. If not…"
The figure's voice faded, brittle as ash.
"Leave. While you still have your name."
The temperature dropped slightly.
Violet veins pulsed once beneath the floor.
Adrien didn't move.
His eyes never left the prisoner.
The pulse beneath the floor grew louder—thump... thump... thump—like a heartbeat echoing through the stone. The chamber dimmed as if the very air had grown heavier, shadows stretching from every direction toward the altar.
Nyxaris stepped beside Adrien, its crimson eyes locked on the chained figure. Mist curled from its obsidian fur, silent and tense.
Adrien's hand hovered near the hilt of his weapon.
"You've had your silence. I'm done waiting."
The chained figure's shoulders trembled… and then stilled. Not in fear. In resignation.
A dry breath slipped from its lips.
"So be it."
With a sound like cracking glass, the chains snapped.
The figure didn't leap. It fell forward—arms limp, head bowed, cloak dragging behind like unraveling shadowstuff.
But the moment it touched the floor, the air howled.
Everything shifted.
The walls flexed. The veins of violet light surged, and the floor split apart, lifting slabs like jagged teeth. Darkness erupted from beneath the altar, forming a shifting dome of pure void that swallowed the dais.
Out of it came the prisoner—no longer limp.
He rose slowly, the cloak flaring behind him, eyes hidden, body hovering inches above the floor. From his back unfurled ribbons of shadow, twisting and coiling like limbs remembering how to hunt.
He said nothing.
But the challenge was clear.
"So this is what you really are."
Nyxaris snarled beside him.
The prisoner raised a hand.
The shadows snapped forward like spears, aiming straight for Adrien's heart.
Battle had begun.
The chamber shook as Adrien lunged forward, blade flashing. The prisoner's chains rattled, and with a burst of strength, it swung a jagged length of broken shackle at him.
Steel met steel with a deafening clang. Sparks burst. Adrien ducked under a wild swing, his boots skidding on the stone.
A shadowed fist came for his head—he rolled aside, slashing low. His blade bit into the prisoner's side, black mist spilling like smoke.
The prisoner snarled and grabbed Adrien's arm, yanking him close. Adrien slammed a knee into its ribs, breaking free, and drove his sword upward in a brutal arc.
The force knocked the figure back against the dais. Chains groaned.
"Come on!" Adrien shouted, charging again, eyes locked, heart pounding like war drums.
The prisoner raised both hands, darkness swirling like a storm, and the next blow shook the room like thunder.
The prisoner moved faster than before.
Adrien swung—miss. A punch slammed into his chest. He flew back, crashing to the floor.
Nyxaris leapt, teeth flashing. The prisoner grabbed it mid-air and slammed it into the ground. The wolf yelped but tried to stand—another kick sent it rolling.
Adrien got up, but a chain wrapped around his arm. The prisoner yanked, pulling him in, and drove a fist into his face. Blood sprayed.
A knee to his gut. An elbow to his back. Adrien hit the floor hard.
Nyxaris charged again, but the prisoner caught it by the throat and tossed it like nothing.
Adrien tried to rise, but a boot pressed him down. The prisoner stood over him, shadow leaking from its body, eyes burning.
The prisoner pressed his boot harder on Adrien's back.
"Pathetic," he said, voice like gravel. "Is this all the godslayer can do? A weak boy hiding behind a pet?"
Nyxaris tried to move, growling low. The prisoner's chain lashed out, smashing the wolf into the wall.
"You can't even protect him," the prisoner mocked.
Adrien pushed up, teeth gritted, but another punch dropped him flat. Blood dripped from his lip. His vision swam.
"You're nothing," the prisoner said, lifting him by the collar. "I could end you now."
He slammed Adrien into the floor. Hard. Bones screamed. Nyxaris crawled forward, but the prisoner's heel crushed its side. Adrien reached out—too slow.
Darkness crept in at the edges of his mind. But then… cold.
Not the kind that freezes skin.
The kind that freezes everything.
His hand twitched. The prisoner frowned. Adrien's head rose, but his eyes… they weren't the same.
The air turned heavy. Adrien's voice was deeper, sharper, and ice-cold.
"You talk too much."
He moved. No wasted motion. A single twist broke the chain grip. His fist smashed into the prisoner's jaw, sending the giant stumbling.
Nyxaris blinked in shock. The prisoner laughed once—but it sounded strained.
"You think a spark will change your fate?"
Adrien—no, the thing inside him—walked forward. Every step felt like a command. Blades of shadow snapped into his hands.
"Try me."
The fight exploded again. The prisoner blocked, countered, but Adrien's strikes came faster, sharper, cleaner. He was still being pushed back—but he wasn't breaking. Not yet.
---
Steel rang against chain.
Shadow blades met the prisoner's shackles again and again, sparks hissing in the gloom.
Adrien's body moved like a predator — precise, relentless, utterly without hesitation.
The prisoner's grin was gone. His strikes grew heavier, more desperate. Each blow still rattled Adrien's bones, but the cold inside him didn't waver.
"You're… different," the prisoner snarled, swinging the chain in a brutal arc.
Adrien caught it mid-swing, shadows coiling around his arm to brace the impact. His eyes never blinked.
"You're slow."
The chain whipped back, carving a deep gouge into the blackstone wall. Adrien surged forward, shadow blade slicing a line across the prisoner's shoulder.
The giant roared — not in pain, but in anger. He slammed his knee into Adrien's ribs, the crack echoing. Adrien staggered, spit blood… but his expression didn't change.
Nyxaris dragged itself up, hackles raised, but stayed back — sensing something it didn't recognize in its master.
The prisoner struck again, faster now, a whirlwind of blows meant to crush the intruder. Adrien's shadow blades shattered under the assault, but he stepped into the attack instead of away, driving an elbow into the prisoner's chest.
They locked eyes.
Adrien's voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but it carried through the chamber like a command.
"Kneel."
For a split second, the prisoner froze — then snarled and forced himself forward, breaking the moment. His next punch sent Adrien crashing into the dais, the force shaking the room.
The cold presence inside Adrien didn't falter. He stood again, slower this time, shadows curling tighter around his hands.
"You're not ready," the prisoner said, wiping the blood from his mouth.
"Neither are you," Adrien answered — and the clash began again, each strike heavier, the room trembling with every impact.