A chill ran along Void's spine. His hand instinctively gripped the hilt of his blade.
«Careful,» Zamyr said, voice laced with caution. The Ahamkara jaw tightened, it swirled around Void eyeing the apparition that sat on the throne, «This is him, not whole, not here, but him. A visage pushed through his shrine. Limited. Angry. Powerful.»
Oryx laughed. He raised a hand, palm out. Power came with it. Clean, simple, brutal. The Taking pressed, not as a wave but as a hand laid flat against a chest.
A pale aura rose off Void's shoulders, thin as breath and edged like a blade held crosswise. The pressure met it, hissed, and slid. The shrine felt the refusal and went still.
Oryx's mouth curled—his eyes boring into Void's soul. "At last we meet pretender," he said. The voice filled the room without getting louder. "So this is your true form? "
He leaned forward, his wings rose behind him, "So weak, so pathetic," he said. "You callously wield the dragon's power, yet it is not your own. Choose now, you will bow or be broken."
Void did not move. The aura flattened and held, ready to lift again.
«Don't worry, he cannot pull you to his world from here,» Zamyr murmured, measuring the edges of the presence. «I can see it, he is not in complete control. The shrine carries his visage, not his full power.»
Oryx's gaze cut to the hilt and back. "You rely on an incomplete power. Pretender. You struggle to change your fate, you point your blades towards my son, you wrestle against the darkness." His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered, an eerie grin curled on his lips, "All this, for what? A chance at survival? A chance at ascension?"
The flame guttered at the throne's base. The edges of the King's outline wavered, then set again. The room shuddered.
"Embrace the darkness instead, become my vassal, and I shall spare your life." Oryx raised his finger, and a pale flame flittered above his hand.
Void looked up at the throne. He heaved a breath. "Struggle against fate? Sure, that's what I am doing. But who are you to stop me? Didn't you do the same? Climbed the ranks of your species, used the protoworms to ascend and finally turned your blades against the very thing that made you."
A chuckle escaped Void's lips. He shot a rebelling glare at Oryx, "What gives you the right to look down on me? Or is it that you're finally afraid someone else will do the same?"
Void walked forward, stepping toward the base of the throne. "I did point my fangs at your son. I broke his blade, I slaughtered his armies." Void paused, his eyes locked with the King's, "When the time comes, I will kill him. And you can do nothing about it."
Oryx looked down and scoffed, "You broke a prince's toy," he said, voice filled with disdain. "You challenged his armies and think it touches me." The pale flame flickered at his shoulders, quick and thin. He ignored it. "Pretender, you dare to compare yourself and me? Fine."
He lifted his hand again. A terrifying presence weighed on Void; the room tightened as the air tensed with pressure. Void's figure flared with the blade's aura; it widened and turned the pressure aside with no room to spare.
Oryx's face tilted a fraction, for an instant, his eyes flashed with amusement, perhaps even recognition. "You won't bow," he said, not a question. "I see, you can't be folded by a shadow of me." He begrudingly uttered the words.
«His reach is thin,» Zamyr said, calm by choice. «He's spending his authority on us. But he can't do it for long. The true Oryx is still fighting somewhere else; he cannot afford to waste any more time here.»
Oryx accepted the limits of his presence, gracefully shifting in his chair as he spared Void another glance. "Pretender. You are right. I cannot kill you, for now," he said, his face turned grim. Centuries of power echoed through his voice. "But I warn you. Turn your dragon against a softer throat. Leave my son alone, and I might still consider the previous offer."
Void met the gaze again and didn't look away. "Then you'll have to stop me early," he said. "You missed your chance today. From the looks of it, you won't have another chance anytime soon."
The flicker ran the King's outline again, sharper this time. The throne-room did not echo. It absorbed. The words fell into the stone and stayed.
Oryx stood, or the idea of him did. The throne made no sound. "Have it your way, pretender," he said. "Collect your small victories, celebrate your light. But be ready. When the time comes, I will take everything you have." The flame at his feet thinned. "There is and always will be only one king. I will not count another."
The pressure of the Taking came once more, a last push that tested Void's resolve at every edge at once. For a heartbeat, Void saw the strain, a hairline crack in the posture of Oryx's visage, and as the taking continued, Oryx's figure cracked, piece by piece.
Until finally the wave of power dimmed and Oryx scattered into the dark, his consciousness retreating from the vision.
"Enjoy this gift of darkness, pretender. May it forever bind you." Oryx grinned and vanished.
Void let out a breath; his legs shook as the weight of Oryx's presence disappeared. He turned. The lightless room rippled in silence, a place with no horizon, just a blank sea of darkness and a throne at its centre.
«It seems Oryx has played his final card,» Zamyr said. «This chamber is trying to hold you here as long as possible.»
Void didn't answer; he looked around, but there was simply nothing except silence and darkness. He turned back towards the throne, this time walking closer till he could touch it.
"Is there a way to break it?" Void uttered, brushing his hands on the throne's armrest.
«There is nothing to break, O brother mine.» Zamyr shook his head, «The darkness binds your mind; it will simply break once the King's influence is no more. We are still in the vision. But it has been changed by him. »
"So we're stuck here?" Void frowned, "How long will this last for, and what about the outside world?"
Zamyr hummed in thought, his power spreading through the darkness, «This vision is designed to last till it can no longer be held up. With Oryx's current state, he could at most hold it for a few days.»
«Outside the vision..» Zamyr peeked out of Void's mind, and his body still stood in front of the stone dais in the shrine. Void's body was enchanted by the vision, and disconnected from his soul, for now, it was like a puppet without strings.
«You still stand before the shrine. Without your mind, your body is just an empty vessel. It cannot do anything.»
Void sighed and kicked the throne's foot, "F*ck, " he hissed in pain and limped back. Void once again scanned the darkness, but there was nothing to be found.
"Guess....I really am stuck here." He languidly sat on the dark floor and eyed the throne. Though it looked perfectly normal, Void's instincts screamed that no matter what, he should never sit on it.
Void shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of the thought. He groaned and shifted to put his back towards the throne, uneasy even to spare it a glance.
=
[Burning Shrine, Mercury]
"You're here to free someone trapped in the heart of the darkness," Osiris said, not asking.
Ikorra's eyes narrowed. She didn't know the name of the place he meant, but the context fit. Void was in Hellmouth, and if anything, it really was the heart of the darkness.
The knot in her chest drew tight, and she listened closely.
The image flickered, stabilised. "If you haven't shut me off yet," Osiris went on, "then I guessed right about why you came." The hologram paused, almost as if it was looking past her. "What you're about to do will be one of the hardest things you've ever done."
He turned a fraction, as if addressing a second listener who wasn't there. "The one you're trying to reach is held inside an ancient shrine deep inside the Lunar surface. I don't know its full design—I didn't see that far. But the method is simple and ugly." His gaze came back to her. "You must destroy the shrine."
The projection walked a step toward the pedestal, hands open. "But if you came here, you likely knew most of that. No, what you're really here to know is if it's possible."
Osiris faced Ikorra, his voice softened by a degree. "The one you're trying to save is alive." He didn't offer proof. He didn't hedge. "I can't tell you how this ends. Only that the one inside the dark still lives."
Ikorra let out a breath she didn't know she had been rationing. Relief didn't show itself in her stance; it settled in her shoulders and didn't leave.
"But you don't have much time. A few days at best. After that, he will die." Osiris continued. The image flickered again, "Good luck," and then it was gone.
Ikorra stood in the silence. She turned for the door.
Just then, the device blinked back to life.
"One more thing," Osiris said, voice lower. "The dark doesn't only hold. It moulds. People taken into it are often not the same as they were before. Be careful."
Ikorra frowned. She turned, but the projection thinned to a line, then a point. The trapezoid folded itself flat, runes dimmed, and the last blink died.
=
A/N: hope you enjoyed the chap bois. I'll take my reviews and stones now, please! Also, T1 really 3-2'd KT in the finals, crazy games to watch ngl.
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