The abyss convulsed.
Prismarine fire shrieked outward in fractured wings, every flicker jagged, unstable, alive. Chains of the Ring God slammed against them, only to splinter, scattering embers of origin into the void. Akiar's lightning storm split across the battlefield, joining the chaos, but even his tempest was dwarfed by the radiance pouring out of Vemy.
For a moment—just a heartbeat—the impossible happened.
The god faltered.
Not destroyed. Not even wounded. But its stride… paused.
Its colossal hand, woven of fire and voidlight, hovered mid-strike as if considering. The laughter dimmed, replaced by silence heavy enough to crush lungs.
"Unbound flame…" The voice rumbled across dimensions, contemplative now. "Your body fractures. Your soul splinters. Yet you resist the chain."
The words coiled into Vemy's ears, sharp as blades.
He grit his teeth, chest heaving. Every breath scraped raw. His veins glowed with cracks of molten light, his skin burning away and repairing in the same instant. His new wings trembled, each beat tearing the void wider, scattering pieces of himself into the dark.
He knew this wasn't power freely given. This was power stolen.
And stolen fire always came with a price.
His vision blurred. In one moment he saw the abyss. In the next, fragments of memory—faces he couldn't place, whispers of chains dragging across stone, and the feeling of being watched. His knees buckled for half a second, but he forced himself upright, fists clenched.
"I'll pay it later," he spat, voice cracking. "Right now, I'm burning you."
The Ring God's silence twisted into something like delight. "So eager to spend what you do not own."
Chains screamed from the fissure again, sharper now, less like bindings and more like weapons. Spears of fire rained down in barrages, cutting through fragments of stone like paper. Vemy swung his fists upward, each strike detonating shockwaves that split the void.
Akiar was there at his back, lightning flashing in perfect counterpoint. But his eyes weren't on the chains—they were on Vemy.
"Idiot…" he muttered, blade whirling as he cut another barrage aside. "You don't even realize it, do you?"
"What?" Vemy snarled, forcing another chain to shatter in his grip.
"That fire—you're not wielding it. It's devouring you."
Vemy's gut twisted. He didn't want to admit it, but the truth pressed against his skin with every second. His arms shook, not from weakness but from rebellion. The fire didn't feel obedient. It felt rabid. Hungry. The moment he loosened control, it would burn him just as easily as the god.
He pushed the thought down, teeth grinding. "Then I'll let it eat me after I win."
The storm-swordsman said nothing, but his grip on his hilt tightened. Lightning crawled across his jaw, as if his own storm wanted to argue for him.
The Ring God extended its arm again. But this time, it did not attack.
It offered.
Chains unfolded into a throne of flame and void, woven with patterns too old for mortals to name. Its voice boomed, shaking the fragments they stood on into splinters.
"Burn for me as you were meant to. Sit. Kneel. Become the furnace through which eternity is reforged."
The abyss itself seemed to lean toward the command, gravity tilting, sound bending, light collapsing. Even Akiar stumbled, his lightning faltering for a heartbeat.
Vemy staggered forward two steps, his body pulled like a puppet. His cracked wings folded in, his fire dimming as if bowing to its master.
The throne's glow burned against his vision, promising release—an end to the struggle, an end to the fracture inside him. If he just sat, just submitted, everything would stop hurting.
For a moment… it was tempting.
The chain inside him tugged once, hard, and nearly snapped his will in two.
But then—another voice cut through.
Not Akiar's. Not the god's.
His own.
Raw. Human. Furious.
If I kneel, I'm no different than ash.
His fire convulsed, rebelling harder than ever. His body screamed, cracking from within. Blood poured down his chin. But he tore his gaze from the throne and spat crimson into the void.
"Burn yourself."
The Prismarine fire erupted again, wilder, sharper—free. The throne cracked under its heat, voidlight fracturing around it.
The god's laughter roared again, but this time it wasn't dominance. It was fascination.
"Yes… Yes. Then let us see how long your rebellion lasts before it consumes you."
The abyss quaked as the chains redoubled, forming a storm that swallowed everything. Akiar cursed, stormlight flaring as he leapt to Vemy's side.
"Don't die before I cut you down myself," he hissed.
Vemy smirked through blood. "Keep up then."
The chains crashed down. Fire and storm rose to meet them.
And above it all, the Ring God's gaze narrowed—not as a ruler watching subjects, but as a predator savoring prey that had finally learned to bite.
The test was over.
The hunt had begun.