The abyss groaned like a dying beast.
Fragments of stone cracked apart and drifted into the endless void, only to be caught by the searing chains the Ring God had unleashed. Each link pulsed with an ancient rhythm, beating in time with Vemy's own heart.
He staggered, Prismarine fire roaring wildly around his body, wings jagged and unsteady. The collision still rang through his bones. His fists felt split down the middle, as though the god's flame had tried to brand itself into him.
But he hadn't fallen. Not yet.
Akiar landed at his side, lightning coursing down his blade in furious arcs. His storm lashed outward against the nearest chain, slicing it in half—only to watch it writhe back together like a severed serpent. Sparks hissed against the void.
"Chains that reforge," Akiar muttered, his teeth grit. "Even death won't bind this thing."
Vemy wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, his breath ragged. "Then we don't bind it. We burn it."
The Ring God tilted its colossal head, its body of fire and voidlight shifting like it had no true shape. When it spoke, the words weren't carried by sound, but by weight, pressing into marrow, dragging against their very souls.
"Bold words… for kindling."
It raised its hand.
The abyss split open.
Chains erupted by the thousands, blotting out the void, a web of burning serpents crashing down toward them. The air shook with their weight, each link glowing with inscriptions older than language itself.
Vemy's wings flared wide, Prismarine fire bursting outward in a shield of jagged glasslike flame. The first chains slammed against it, cracking it instantly. The Prismarine screeched like breaking crystal.
He roared, forcing more power into it—
—and the shield shattered.
The chains lunged through, coiling around his arms, his legs, his chest. Not like bindings of steel, but like fingers sinking into his soul. His flame flickered violently, pulled taut by something larger, something claiming it.
Akiar's storm cut through the air, lightning blade severing a dozen links before they could reach Vemy's throat. Each cut exploded into a storm of sparks, but again, the chains reformed, snapping back into place.
The Ring God's voice thundered, cruel and resonant.
"You do not wield flame. Flame wields you."
Vemy screamed as the chains pierced deeper—not his flesh, but his essence. He felt memories burning, fracturing. The day he first awakened his Prismarine spark. The battles he had survived. The defiance that had driven him to spit in the Thrones' faces.
All of it, unraveling.
"No—!" His roar was guttural, primal, breaking against the chains' grip. "I am not yours!"
The god leaned closer, its immense form blotting out the last traces of the abyss's horizon. Its face was no face at all, but a swirling distortion of fire and silver light.
"You are already mine. The spark you call Prismarine is a fragment… of me."
The words echoed, tearing deeper than any blade.
Vemy's knees buckled. His fire flared and dimmed erratically, his body convulsing as if trying to reject itself. The chains pulled tighter, dragging him toward the god's burning maw.
Akiar's storm flared, bolts ripping through the abyss. His eyes burned, his voice edged with rare fury.
"Get up, Vemy! If you kneel, we both end here!"
But Vemy's body wouldn't listen. His flame betrayed him, trembling like a loyal hound to its master.
And then—
The whisper came again. Not from the god's mouth. From the fire itself.
"Why resist what you are? Let me shape you. Let me crown you. Through you, the chain will burn all worlds."
Vemy's vision blurred, silver-blue light flooding his eyes. For an instant, he saw it—himself, crowned in fire, thrones kneeling in ash, Akiar broken beneath his heel.
It was intoxicating. Terrifying.
He almost gave in.
Almost.
But then, faint through the roar, he heard another sound—steel clashing, storm raging. Akiar, refusing to retreat even as chains tore his flesh, lightning biting through his arms.
That was enough.
Vemy's lips peeled back in a snarl. Blood dripped from his teeth as he forced the words out, every syllable scorched raw:
"I am not your vessel… and I'll prove it!"
Prismarine fire erupted, not in chains, but in shards—jagged, wild, unformed. They tore outward, shattering through the bindings on his arms. For the first time, the chains recoiled, hissing as though burned by something alien.
The Ring God stilled.
Its fire twisted, uncertain.
"Impossible… That spark—"
Vemy rose, wings stretching wide, his veins glowing like molten cracks. "This flame isn't yours. It isn't theirs. It's mine."
He lunged, fists ablaze, colliding with the nearest chain. The Prismarine didn't shatter—it consumed. The chain burned away, leaving nothing but ash.
The Ring God's body rippled. Its voice was no longer calm—it was amused.
"Interesting. A spark not bound, not chained… Perhaps you are worth testing after all."
The abyss trembled. Dozens of chains withdrew, coiling back into the god's form. Its hands spread wide, as if opening a stage.
"Then rise, child of flame. Show me if you can defy origin itself."
The ground beneath them shattered, fragments spinning upward in a cyclone. Firestorms and lightning clashed in the void, the space between collapsing into chaos.
Vemy and Akiar stood side by side, battered but unbroken.
Akiar glanced at him, storm crackling across his blade. "Don't think this makes us allies. I just refuse to die here."
Vemy smirked, blood on his lips, fire roaring hotter than ever. "Then refuse louder."
The Ring God's laughter shook eternity. Chains, fire, and storm collided in a cataclysm that threatened to unmake the void itself.
And in the heart of it—
Vemy's flame burned not as a fragment, but as something new.
Something the god had not planned for.
🔥 Cliffhanger ending: Vemy shows his first real step of independence from the Ring God, sparking a new form of Prismarine fire. The God isn't angry—he's intrigued, which is even worse.