Rayon moved silently through the dense foliage, the forest around him whispering with the energy of unseen life. His steps were measured, deliberate, carrying the weight of someone who had grown beyond ordinary fear, beyond ordinary concern. The green jade in his pocket warmed faintly, but his mind was elsewhere, focused on a far grander design.
Erethon hovered at his side, the subtle hum of his presence almost blending into the forest's natural rhythm. "You've gone quiet," Erethon said, his tone curious, laced with amusement. "That usually means trouble."
Rayon's eyes narrowed, the faint shimmer of Black Resonance coating his body like a second skin. "No trouble. Just… a change in strategy."
Erethon tilted his head, intrigued. "Oh? Enlighten me, little monarch. What's the plan this time?"
Rayon's lips curled into the faintest of smirks. "I've been searching for the primordial vessels one by one, chasing whispers and rumors. But… that's too slow. There's no need to hunt what should be drawn to me. It's time the strongest beings—every Forsaken, every Stringbearer, every weaver who knows power—paid attention. They should see the Black Primordial for themselves."
Erethon's eyes glimmered, a mixture of amusement and dark fascination. "Bold. Dangerous. And… perfectly you. But what exactly do you intend?"
Rayon's expression hardened. "I'm not here to beg for acknowledgment. I'm not here to negotiate or hide. I'll make them understand. I'll demand their attention. I'll step into their strongest bastions, confront them, and leave no doubt who they're dealing with. They'll know the weight of a being who commands both Black Resonance and the essence of the Primordial End. I'll make them remember, whether they like it or not."
Erethon's grin was slow, deliberate. "Ah… yes. That arrogance. That fire. You haven't lost your edge. I like that. But… do you understand the consequences, little monarch? The strongest will not be amused by your demands. Many will try to kill you on sight."
Rayon's gaze swept the horizon, eyes sharp and unwavering. "Let them come. Let them try. I'm not searching anymore. I'm waiting. And when they step forward… they'll see the difference between fear and inevitability. I don't need to kill them all… yet. I just need to make them respect the name."
The forest seemed to pulse faintly, responding to the authority that radiated from him. Vorthalaxis, coiled like a living shadow at his side, flicked its tail lazily but with an alertness that betrayed its anticipation. Erethon hovered closer.
"You're aware," Erethon said, voice low, "that some of the Forsaken you intend to draw out aren't ordinary. Some of them carry the remnants of primordial power themselves. They've felt the echoes of what you've become. They might underestimate you… but some will know precisely what they face."
Rayon's smirk deepened, black energy flickering faintly along his form. "Then let them underestimate. They'll learn the hard way. I'll show them what it means to witness a being who has fused the Black Resonance with the essence of the Primordial End. They'll see power… and they'll understand submission without me needing to speak a word."
Erethon chuckled softly. "And the collateral?"
Rayon's eyes, dark and absolute, met Erethon's gaze. "Collateral is inevitable. But I'm not indiscriminate. I don't destroy what isn't worthy. I only make them understand… and only the foolish will challenge me."
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of distant lands and whispers of civilization. Rayon's plan was clear, simple, and terrifying in its logic: stop running, stop chasing, and let the strongest come to him. He would be the axis around which attention, fear, and respect would revolve. No more delays, no more whispers—he would impose his presence, and the world would adjust.
Erethon hovered quietly, studying him, sensing the calculated madness in his aura. "You've become… something else entirely. Not just a Forsaken. Not just a Primordial vessel. You're the convergence of history and power itself. And you want them to notice."
Rayon's smirk sharpened. "They will. And when they do… the strongest will remember the name 'Rayon Vaynar' for the rest of their existence. That's the only way to truly claim dominion—by imposing it, not asking for it."
A moment of silence fell, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the faint, coiled hum of Black Resonance around him. Vorthalaxis's eyes glimmered faintly, anticipating the storm that was to come.
"And if they refuse?" Erethon asked, a faint challenge in his voice.
Rayon's gaze hardened, his voice calm but carrying the weight of inevitability. "Then they'll learn… and the price will be unforgettable."
Erethon let out a low, amused laugh, shaking his head. "I look forward to the show. Truly. The little monarch isn't just playing anymore. He's rewriting the rules."
Rayon turned, moving with deliberate purpose, each step radiating authority. The forest seemed to bow around him, acknowledging the presence of a force far beyond mortal comprehension.
He was no longer chasing the powerful. He would summon their attention, bend their awareness to him, and mark his presence upon the world with the inevitability of a storm. And Erethon, silently trailing, could only marvel at the audacity… and the brilliance of the Black Primordial.
The plan was set. The strongest would see him. The strongest would know him. And the universe… would remember.