Capítulo 43: Bound by Blood and Chains
Inarius groaned as consciousness returned. His body ached, his arms heavy and immobile. As his vision cleared, he realized he was shackled, thick black chains binding his wrists and ankles. The chains pulsed faintly with crimson light, like veins carrying blood, and they anchored him to the cold stone floor in the middle of the throne room.
The towering figure on the throne loomed over him, its presence as suffocating as before. The dark flames surrounding the throne cast flickering shadows, making the room seem alive with a sinister energy.
"Calm yourself, child," the figure said, its voice a symphony of countless voices echoing together. "You will only hurt yourself struggling against those chains."
Inarius glared at the figure, his heart racing in defiance and disbelief. "You're not my father!" he spat, his voice filled with venom. "My father died two months before I was even born! I've seen my mother's memories—there was no being like you in them."
The figure chuckled, the sound low and resonant, like the rumble of an earthquake. It leaned forward slightly on its throne, its void-like face tilted as if regarding him with amusement.
"You are correct," the being said. "Your mortal father, as you knew him, is no more. He was merely a vessel... the last form I took before retreating to this throne. A fleeting existence in the multiverse."
Inarius felt the blood drain from his face. "What... what are you saying?"
The figure gestured around itself, its clawed hand encompassing the hellish room and the volcanic wasteland beyond. "I have been bound here, chained to this throne by my creator since before the multiverse took shape. But once every billion years, the chains loosen, and I am permitted to take form in the mortal realm for a time."
It leaned closer, its shadow enveloping Inarius entirely. "Your father was my latest form. A mortal guise I wore briefly, long enough to ensure your creation."
"No," Inarius muttered, shaking his head. His chains rattled as he struggled against them. "That's not possible. That's not true!"
The figure laughed again, the sound deep and chilling. "Oh, my son, you have barely begun to understand the truths of existence. You are of me, bound to my essence, and that is why you were chosen for your gifts. The sins you absorb, the power you wield... it is your inheritance."
Inarius stared at the being, his mind reeling. His powers... his entire existence... had they all been tied to this creature from the beginning?
"Why?" he demanded, his voice trembling with anger and fear. "Why would you do this? Why me?"
The figure settled back into its throne, its shadow receding slightly. "Because you are the key, Inarius. Through you, I can finish what I began eons ago."
"What are you talking about?"
"All in due time," the figure said cryptically, its voice echoing with finality. "For now, accept the truth: you are mine, my son, in blood, spirit, and destiny."
Inarius shook his head again, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "No. I'm not yours. I'm not like you."
The figure leaned forward once more, its presence overwhelming. "Oh, but you are. And soon, you will see it for yourself."
The room grew colder, the oppressive silence pressing down on Inarius like a weight. His chains seemed to tighten, and despite his rage, a part of him began to wonder if the being's words were true.
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