Darkness was weighted.
It pressed against her skin, filled her lungs, crawled beneath her ribs and settled where her heart should have been.
If she still had one.
For a thousand years, there had been no sun.
No sky.
No wind.
Only the slow echo of chains.
Clack.
The sound rippled across the endless void.
Clack.
And another…
Clack
Serpentine soul-chains coiled around her wrists, her ankles, her waist, her throat. They were not forged of metal but by an unbreakable law, laws older than language and time - The Primordial Law. Each link glowed faintly with inscriptions of its predecessor that withered away in the darkness, the chain that punished movement and devoured spiritual energy.
Yet she still breathed.
That alone defied the natural order.
Ayama.
Once daughter of a proud tribe beneath red African moons. Once sister. Once beloved.
Now, now she was a soulless void that outlived her destined time.
Her true body remained unchanged despite the centuries. Deep obsidian skin gleamed faintly in the abyss, as though polished by starlight. Gold undertones shimmered beneath the surface like restrained divinity. Her hair flowed freely despite the still air, moving as if submerged in invisible water.
Her beauty had not faded.
It had sharpened.
And in the darkness, her brown eyes opened.
She did not scream anymore. She had learned the futility of that long ago.
Instead, she watched.
Because though her body was chained, her mind was not.
Her consciousness had wandered for centuries through the Mortal Realm, drifting like a silent omen. She had seen empires rise and collapse. Dynasties shift. Cultures bloom.
And now…
Now she watched the Great Xu Dynasty.
Lanterns flickered beneath a golden sky. Silk banners flowed from palace towers. Musicians played at an imperial banquet.
At the center of it all sat the seven who had condemned her.
Reborn.
Refined.
Thriving.
Her twin brother, now known as Wei Rong, the Emperor's most trusted advisor, lifted a cup of wine, his expression calm and calculating. The same eyes. The same detachment. Even hidden behind another face, she knew him instantly.
Beside him:
The High Courtier Han Xue,smiling behind embroidered sleeves.
Chancellor Mu Jian, fingers stained from all the silver he counted before entering the banquet.
General Zhao Kaiming, shedding his armor for this day of festivities, flaunting a gift from the emperor, an honor he did not deserve.
Madam Yun, now a revered temple priestess.
Duke Liang and Duchess Mei, the empire's most admired noble couple.
Seven immortals.
Seven thieves.
Seven fragments of her stolen soul.
Her fingers twitched against the chains.
They had not only sacrificed her.
They had taken pieces of her.
Her soul had been divided, split at the moment of ritual, each fragment embedded into them to stabilize their eternal reincarnation.
What remained of her was hollow.
And hollow things are an empty invitation to be filled.
The soul-chains were designed to punish anything living until it's life force depleted.
They were not designed to contain something without a soul, something alive but lacking in life.
Over centuries, the chains dragged other damned spirits into the abyss. Criminal cultivators. Corrupt immortals. Failed demons.
Their chaotic remnants brushed against her emptiness.
And she absorbed them.
At first, it was instinct.
Then survival.
Then evolution.
Her hollow core became something new.
Something darker.
Something vast.
A soul not born but forged by dark chaos.
Chaos condensed within her like a storm gathering pressure.
For centuries it simmered.
For centuries it slept.
Until tonight.
She had long forgotten the warm embrace of the sun, the roughness of the earth and the lightness of fresh air. But the faces of betrayal- oh, those faces she remembered well.
Though a thousand years had passed, she saw everything.
Every Death
Every Rebirth
Every Lover
Every Secret
The banquet laughter reached a crescendo. Her lips curled in disdain as she witnesses the smiles on their lips, drinking and toasting to their recent victory.
And something inside Ayama snapped as she looked at the victorious faces of those that locked her away in this lifeless place to rot.
Soot
That was all she smelt as her eyes opened in confusion. Drenched in sweat, body stretched on all sides as she was tired down. Her mind was unclear and her throat dry, she looked around panicked, her body laid on blood drawn runes scattered on the stone table.
"What's happening?" she asked herself.
As she frenzied, her gaze fell on to the approaching group, her friends… her family, a wave of relief briefly washed over her until realization set in as no one attempted to set her free.
Their faces were serene, void of any regret or worry. Her brother approached, eyes disinterested as it scanned her, a passing glimpse of disdain as he ran his hand down her hair.
"Don't worry little sister, it will all pass" he murmured, as if settling a baby.
"Davier! What is going on?!" she thrashed.
"You are giving us a gift, after all these years, you're finally useful little sister" he chimed.
"All our lives, you've always been the sun and I the moon, so let's dim that little light of yours for my greater purpose" he exclaimed and he jerked her head forward
The rest stayed silent, as they approached her.
"We must begin" Davier instructed.
With nods of agreement, he approached each individual and directed their hands placements on her vital points or their ritual to begin.
Two fingers on each side of her temples, two on her heart, her bellybutton, her wrists, the center of her chest and her ankles, once settled, they began.
Her brother took the lead and began chanting something new to her ears. The language was familiar as he said it in their mother tongue, but the chant was something new, it felt cursed, as the words left her mouth, the hairs on her skin stood and a rippling surge of pain shot through her skin. Her veins pumped with a black substance that manifested itself on her body.
In their mother tongue they recited a familiar chant.
From root and bone, we summon thee
A pact we seek and sealed one should be,
Eternal life we beg you grant,
In exchange for a soul consumed by flame.
Through shadow and fire, our path is claimed,
By shadow and flame, a path we claim
A debt is cast, a fragment each claimed
A debt is given, A cosmic gone.
From root to bone, we seal the remaining soul
As they chanted, the ruins beneath her felt hot, the black lines appearing on her skin evaporated into smoke and soon formed heavy shackles that snaked around each area they once held. Fear and confusion filled her face as her body withered in pain as if she was burning from inside out.
The chaos within her surged upward, red and black energy spiraling around her body like a living storm. The chains began absorbing it greedily.
And then they began to corrode violently all the while emitting black smoke that was swallowed by her body.
The abyss screamed and the first chain snapped.
Clack
Across realms, thunder rolled in a sky that had been clear moments before.
In the Umbral Abyss, the true Infernal Realm, two figures looked up simultaneously.
They had been searching for this surge of power ever since they first felt it.
They had felt her chaos once… long ago before it vanished into nothing.
Now It returned.
Her conscious jolted her out of the horrid memory, The abyss rippled outward in strong waves as the shackles that bonded her broke and her body started falling further into the dark abyss, the harsh pain of her shoulder hitting the floor shocked her nerves.
For the first time in one thousand years, she smiled. It was not kind or merciful. It was a smile of reenacting all the things she swore to do if she was ever freed.
In the imperial palace, wine trembled in golden cups.
Wei Rong's hand froze mid-air.
Somewhere deep in his chest
A fragment of soul pulsed.
Ayama's eyes flared molten gold.
"You should have killed me properly," she whispered into the void.
The remaining chains shattered in a violent eruption of energy around her. She stretched her aching limbs and before her two red orbs coated in black smoke circled around her.
The two orbs were transformed into two kneeling figures before her.
Their eyes glowed crimson.
"We've found you" one said, voice rough with restrained emotion.
"We have found you at last." The other repeated.
Ayama straightened slowly.
The air here was different, their heavy cloaks emitted dark energy she had never seen before.
"Who," she asked, voice steady despite the storm coiling inside her, "are you?"
The second demon bowed deeper.
"We are from the Infernal realm; you're sudden outburst of Chaos summoned us."
"Follow us, and we can take you to our home"
She followed as they led the way, having been in the same place for a thousand years, she didn't want to spend another minute here, wherever there was. Not long after, she witnessed vast gates of black stone rose into a blood-streaked sky.