The Architect stood over his brother's motionless body, a victor in a war that had spanned a millennium. His gaze was fixed on the serene god's beautiful, lifeless form. It was a gaze not of triumph, but of a sick, twisted covetousness. The Architect reached down and his massive hand hovered over the serene god's chest, a placement that was intimately wrong, a profane act of ownership over a being of pure creation. A low, sibilant whisper escaped his lips, a sound of absolute, possessive satisfaction.
"Still have this pure, beautiful form… I should have!" the Architect breathed, his face contorted in a horrifying expression of twisted desire.
His hand then moved to his brother's throat. He didn't squeeze. He simply rested his palm there, a gesture of absolute dominance. He was not taking his brother's life, he was taking his power. The serene god's skin, a canvas of pure light, began to darken under his touch, veins of black and chaotic energy spreading slowly from the point of contact. It was a spiritual violation, a horrific act of corruption that was more terrifying than death itself. The Architect's possession was not about killing, but about claiming, about twisting the very essence of his brother for his own.
Meanwhile, Aki's consciousness returned with a painful jolt. He lay in a crumpled heap on the floor of the horrifying throne room. The possessed Kael stood over him, holding not a weapon, but a coil of chains. They were not ordinary chains. They were made of a dark, shifting metal that hummed with a low, malevolent energy, a material forged from the Architect's own corrupt will. These were chains made to bind gods.
Aki tried to move, to crawl away, but his body was still unresponsive. He could feel Lyra's essence within him, a terrified, silent whisper. She was watching in horror as the Architect defiled her creator, her pure light struggling against the suffocating darkness of Acheron. She was trapped, a witness to a divine horror she was powerless to stop.
The possessed Kael dropped the chains on the obsidian floor, a clanging sound that echoed with an empty, hollow finality. He moved with a sickening, inhuman grace, hoisting Aki's limp body up and dragging him towards the farthest corner of the throne room. It was not a violent motion, but a dismissive one, as if Aki were a mere object. He was being taken to a dark, isolated room, a cage made for a divine prisoner.
The Architect's voice, a sickeningly pleased hum, followed him. "We have so much to discuss, my dear Aki. So much to prepare. I will use you. I will use my brother. And together, we will build a universe of perfect, beautiful order."
Kael's possessed body chained Aki up, the dark metal burning against his skin, searing his spiritual essence. He was a prisoner, bound by a power he could not understand, held captive by a force that had just defeated a god. The Architect's voice, a low and terrifying lullaby, promised a future of suffering and a grand, horrible design that would use him as a cornerstone. He was alone, helpless, and trapped in a reality of nightmares.