The platform trembled beneath Tharyx's boots as he surveyed the abyss beyond the collapsed district. The mist curled and twisted like restless serpents, and shadows clung to every fragment of broken stone as if they had grown roots. He could feel the pulse of the Void Fragment Alpha still within him, subtle but insistent, an electric hum resonating through his bones. The shadows at his feet twitched, testing boundaries, stretching tendrils along the jagged edges of rubble, probing the space around him without instruction.
Tharyx exhaled slowly and flexed his hands. If the fragment had taught him anything, it was that this power wasn't just something to wield; it had to be understood. He focused, willing his shadow threads to flow outward, feeling the pull as they slithered over stone, coiling around jagged metal and debris. The strands followed instinct first, then obedience as he learned to direct them. Each motion was tactile, physical, a conversation between him and the darkness at his command. He lifted a broken column with a thought, letting the shadow wrap it like a serpentine arm, and then sent it hurtling into a distant wall. Stone shattered, and dust erupted into the stagnant air, trailing like smoke over the abyss below.
Zalivra, still recovering from the previous rift jump, groaned from behind a pile of rubble. "I thought I escaped everything! Now you're just flinging furniture like it's a sport!" His voice carried a mix of fear, awe, and exasperation. "Are your shadows… eating things again, or are they just aggressive decorators now?"
Tharyx didn't answer. He was too busy feeling the subtle threads of void energy crawling along the tips of his fingers. He extended a strand past the edge of the platform, feeling it stretch impossibly far, almost like it had a mind of its own. Rocks on the far side of the abyss lifted as the shadow reached for them, moving faster than humanly possible, obeying instinct and will simultaneously. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and strangely alive.
"Interesting," Tharyx murmured, tilting his head. He tested another motion, and the threads responded immediately. Rubble rose, stones clattered together midair, and a section of the platform reshaped itself under his control. The shadows were extensions, yes, but more than that were sensors, tendrils reaching into the unknown, pulling information about density, gravity, and tension back into his mind. It was as though the world itself whispered to him through these dark filaments.
Then the first anomaly occurred.
A shadow strand lifted a jagged shard of stone toward an approaching debris fragment. Instead of obeying his thought to push it aside, the strand hesitated, twisting sharply, almost recoiling, before snapping the shard sideways at a slightly different angle than instructed. Tharyx froze. He felt a subtle tug at the back of his mind, a sharp, fleeting resistance that had no explanation. The shadows weren't just tools; they were thinking.
"Uh… that's new," he muttered, stepping back. Zalivra peeked over the rubble again, eyes wide. "You're telling me your shadows are… rebelling? Because I definitely didn't sign up for a haunted cleaning service."
Tharyx ignored him and extended more threads. The sensation returned, faint at first, but growing. Threads of darkness slid along the ground, curling around broken pillars and jagged stone, their motion independent of his conscious commands. Yet they still pulsed in resonance with his shadow energy, testing limits, reaching farther than he could perceive, lifting fragments from beyond the platform's edge, exploring the unseen distance below the abyss.
SYSTEM MESSAGE:
[Shadow Threads Active.]
[Autonomy Detected: Minor.]
[Potential Assessment: High | Unstable.]
Tharyx felt a shiver run through him. Autonomy. The shadows weren't just reacting; they were making decisions, choosing actions that could aid him or, if provoked, hinder him. That implied awareness, instinct, maybe even rudimentary thought. The possibilities were staggering, but the risk was immediate. One misjudgment and the shadows could undo everything, tear apart his environment, or worse.
He exhaled and focused harder, weaving multiple strands simultaneously. Debris moved like puppets under his command, forming crude barricades, striking at imaginary enemies, testing his range and precision. The threads wrapped around two fallen columns, lifted, and slammed them together. Stone dust puffed into the air, clouds forming midair as threads recoiled, then relaxed again. It was power, raw and tangible, yet still volatile.
Zalivra whimpered behind him. "Yeah, this is way beyond me. I mean, I survived a collapsing city and that, but now I'm just… I'm a spectator in a horror show starring my boss!"
Tharyx didn't respond verbally. He focused again, extending the shadow strands across the plateau. Each thread seemed to stretch farther than physically possible, bending light and space around them, probing gaps between rubble, and reaching into shadows beyond his sight. Then the anomaly returned. One thread twitched sharply, veering away from his intended target, wrapping itself around a jagged edge not for control, but as though to… anchor itself? Tharyx felt a brief, sharp tug like someone pulling on his mind, testing him, not violently, but assertively.
"Interesting," he said quietly, tilting his head. The shadows paused for just a fraction of a second, as if assessing his reaction. Then they resumed their motion, faster now, sharper, as if integrating his will into their own logic, but still retaining that whisper of independence.
SYSTEM MESSAGE:
[Shadow Threads: Growth Accelerated.]
[Autonomy Level: Increasing.]
[Recommendation: Establish Dominance or Risk Loss of Control.]
Tharyx's lips curled into a faint, calculated smile. This was no longer training. This was negotiation, interaction with a force that obeyed but also thought. The power was immense, frightening, intoxicating, and real. He could push further, extend threads farther, interact with void energy directly, and possibly reach things no human could even perceive.
He moved a thread deliberately toward a distant fragment of collapsed stone hovering over the abyss. The strand extended impossibly, curling around it, and then recoiled with a subtle delay as if testing the limits of physics itself. Another strand coiled around his wrist protectively, pulling him back slightly when he reached too far, a sensation he had never experienced from a simple tool. His shadow was not just obeying, it was guiding, correcting, acting independently while still tethered to his will.
Zalivra blinked repeatedly. "Okay. You've officially broken reality. That's not a hyperbole. I think even the city is scared of you."
Tharyx didn't reply. He was observing. Watching the threads flow, twist, and react. Testing boundaries. One misstep here could snap the plateau beneath him into the void. But another misstep or another experiment could unlock more than just strength. It could redefine the very interaction between his body, his shadow, and the Void.
The abyss stirred.
Threads twitched.
Something from far below reacted to the pulse of shadow energy, radiating up into the platform with subtle vibrations. Tharyx felt it, instinctively tightening his threads, expanding them across the terrain. He extended one far into the darkness below, letting it slide along the unseen, feeling contours, pressures, shifts. Then, for a heartbeat, the thread moved against him. Not a malfunction. Not random. Willful, deliberate. He flinched as a sudden tug nearly yanked him forward.
Shadows could think. They could resist.
And they were testing him.
A low, wet rumble echoed from the abyss beneath the platform, like stone grinding against stone. Threads at his feet stiffened, coiling like snakes ready to strike or protect; it was impossible to tell. A deeper pulse, more insistent than before, rippled through the air, resonating with the Void Fragment still inside him.
Tharyx inhaled, steadying himself. He could feel the limit approaching. Not just of his power, but of the shadows themselves. They were alive, aware, and unpredictable.
And somewhere in the mist below, beyond sight, something responded to the growing autonomy of his shadows. A subtle distortion, coiling in rhythm with the threads, waiting. Watching. Calculating.
Tharyx exhaled slowly, letting his shadows contract slightly, testing his authority. They obeyed mostly, but a single thread rose higher than the others, twitching at an impossible angle, separating from the rest. Its tip hovered over the abyss, pulsing faintly.
SYSTEM MESSAGE:
[Warning: Shadow Sentience Confirmed (Partial).]
[Potential: Unknown.]
[Recommendation: Exercise Caution.]
He didn't flinch.
He smiled.
"Then we'll play your way," he murmured. "But I set the rules."
The thread twitched again. This time, faster. Intentional. Sharp. It darted toward the abyss, not away from him, not toward him but toward something else, a presence that had been waiting, unseen, biding its time.
The platform shivered.
Something large moved within the mist.
Something that had noticed the awakening of his shadows.
And it was coming.