The forest was quiet, but not lifeless. Rays of golden sunlight struggled through the thick canopy, falling in fractured beams onto the ground where Rayon walked. Each step he took felt weighted, yet effortless. Not because he carried the world on his shoulders—but because he was becoming one with it. The universe had shifted, and its shift radiated through him like a pulse.
Erethon hovered beside him, his form partially materialized, a shadow of arrogance and misapproval combined. "You realize," Erethon murmured, voice low but amused, "that what you now carry is not just your own authority. You command the Black Resonance itself… the essence of Oblivion. That means you govern annihilation, decay, the end of all things… and yet, your mind is sharp enough to choose when and how to apply it."
Rayon tilted his head. "Don't talk like I'm new to this. I know exactly what I'm holding. It's just… heavier than usual."
Erethon smirked. "Heavier than usual? You hold the authority of all Primordial End's power. You can disassemble a continent with a thought, erase existence, consume forces, devour essence, control time and causality in pockets… and you're worried about 'heaviness'?"
Rayon shrugged. "It's noticeable."
The Black Resonance now flowed through him like living fire, threads of potential threading through his essence, intertwining with the primordial power he had just absorbed. Every strike he could throw now, every motion, every glance—even the tiniest twitch of a finger—was a threat. He was not yet the Monarch of the Endless Abyss, but in the eyes of the world, he was already untouchable.
The powers granted by Black Resonance and the absorbed essence of Oblivion were numerous. Rayon now held:
Authority over decay and erasure: Anything he touched or struck with intention could begin to disassemble at a molecular level. Essence absorption: Anything he defeated, whether living or not, could partially or wholly be absorbed to strengthen him. Time manipulation in microcosms: Limited causality rewrites, accelerated or rewound reactions on a small scale. Primordial Oblivion powers: Control over entropy, near-omniscient perception of threat and balance, ability to directly sever the connection of lesser vessels to their Primordial masters. Existence authority: He could bend reality slightly around himself—things broke, bled, or obeyed subconsciously if he willed it. Resonance Manifestation: Black Resonance could manifest as tangible constructs or armor, enhancing his body and attacks without needing strings.
In short: Rayon's reach had extended far beyond any Forsaken, beyond any vessel, beyond any mortal or immortal alike.
As he continued walking, he passed through a small clearing, where three Forsakens, two Stringbearers, and a Weaver stood cautiously. The air crackled with latent tension. Rayon stopped, and they froze, sensing something beyond strength—a presence that had already changed the hierarchy of the world.
One of them, a tall Weaver with silver hair, stepped forward tentatively. "Rayon Vaynar… The Obsidian Web," he said quietly, almost reverent. "We… we know of you. We mean no hostility."
Rayon's expression didn't change. He extended a hand, and from the folds of his new Black Primordial suit, he produced a small object wrapped in shadowy threads. He handed it to the Weaver.
"You'll need this," he said casually. "Use it, don't. Whatever. I don't care."
They all bowed low in acknowledgment and backed away, giving him the path. Rayon didn't wait. He walked on, as he always did.
By mid-afternoon, he arrived in a larger clearing, where the forest opened onto a hill overlooking a lake. A figure stood there: tall, elegant, hair a vivid crimson that seemed almost aflame in the sunlight, her movements deliberate and measured like a queen walking through her palace. Rayon stopped. He had seen vessels before—but there was a presence here that even he felt should not be trifled with lightly.
Beside her, a manifestation appeared. Massive, glowing with a pale violet aura, it exuded authority without effort. Erethon appeared next to Rayon, floating lazily as usual. The two Primordials studied one another, exchanging silent gestures, subtle nods, and almost imperceptible smirks.
"Rayon, meet her," Erethon finally said, voice casual but tinged with amusement. "Iris Solmek. Vessel for Calythar, one of my old… associates, let's say. They've known each other for longer than you've been alive. Or conscious."
Rayon's eyes narrowed slightly. "Calythar, huh? I see." He didn't move, didn't shift. He just watched.
Iris approached, graceful but confident, her sharp gaze never leaving his. "I've heard… of you," she said, voice melodic but edged with steel. "Rayon Vaynar, the Black Primordial. The stories don't do you justice."
Rayon tilted his head, expression flat. "I don't do justice. Neither do I need it."
A small smirk flickered across her lips. "I see. Not exactly… friendly, then."
Rayon's eyes glinted with amusement. "I don't make friends. Don't need them." He leaned back under a tree, one arm draped lazily over his knee, looking at her like a predator observing a deer. Vorthalaxis slithered off silently into the underbrush, hunting, while Erethon hovered with his usual smirk, giving silent commentary only Rayon could sense.
Calythar's presence beside Iris radiated power, subtle but undeniable. "Erethon," it murmured, voice like gravel mixed with wind. "It's been too long."
Erethon's smirk widened. "Indeed. Too long." Their conversation was inaudible to the human ear, but their gestures and the aura around them spoke volumes. Old debts, old rivalries, and mutual respect laced every subtle movement.
Meanwhile, Iris's gaze flicked toward Rayon again. "You… are nothing like I expected," she said softly. Her voice carried curiosity, caution, and something almost personal.
Rayon raised a brow, expression neutral. "And you're nothing like I expected either. But I don't bite. Unless I have to."
A faint laugh escaped her, a mix of surprise and intrigue. Rayon's smirk twitched ever so slightly—rarely did anyone earn more than a flicker of amusement from him.
The sun dipped lower, painting the clearing in amber. Rayon's attention remained calm, collected, but alert, studying Iris, the Primordial beside her, and the forest beyond.
Erethon nudged him. "Watch. She's going to try talking again."
Iris stepped closer, graceful and deliberate. "I want to learn… from you. Or at least understand you."
Rayon's smirk deepened just slightly. "Understand me?" He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, staring at her intently. "Good luck with that."
For a moment, silence reigned. Then she laughed softly, a musical sound that did not betray fear. Vorthalaxis returned, dragging a small deer behind it, leaving it at Rayon's feet—a gift.
Rayon picked it up, examining it, then glanced at her. "You can stay. Or you can leave. Don't bother me if you don't plan to."
Iris's eyes sparkled faintly with amusement, admiration, and intrigue all at once. "I think… I'll stay."
Rayon leaned back under the tree, finally letting himself relax, just slightly. Erethon chuckled. "And so begins the… fun."