Chapitre 3: Threads of Power
Eliar stared at the glowing veins in the stone, his breath shaky as his fingers traced the faint pulse beneath them. The energy felt alive, humming with a rhythm he couldn't fully grasp. It wasn't just chaotic—it was deliberate, almost patterned, like it was waiting for something.
He jerked his hand back. "What the hell is this?" The words escaped before he could stop them, sharp and panicked. He glanced back toward the passage, where the creatures' shrieks echoed louder and louder. The barrier he'd created flickered with every impact, the cracks spreading like a spiderweb.
He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "How long is that thing going to hold?"
Pressing his palm back to the veins, he shut his eyes and focused. The faint warmth of the energy pulsed against his skin, erratic yet familiar. It reminded him of the equations he'd spent years solving—chaotic on the surface but governed by logic beneath. His breathing slowed as the realization hit.
"This isn't magic," he whispered, his voice steadying. "It's… logical. I can shape it."
The thought should've been absurd, but it wasn't. He knew it was true, deep in his gut, the same way he'd always known when a theory would work. He just had to figure out how to use it—before the creatures broke through.
The barrier outside cracked audibly, the sharp sound cutting through his thoughts like a knife. Eliar flinched, his heart pounding. "No. No, no, no!" He pressed his hands harder against the veins, as if sheer willpower could force them to work faster. "Come on, damn it! Do something!"
A faint thread of crimson light sparked to life, curling toward his palm. Eliar's breath hitched. "Yes… That's it! Come on!" He focused harder, shaping the thread in his mind, guiding its flow like he would an equation on a chalkboard.
The barrier shattered with a deafening crack.
Eliar whipped his head around, his stomach twisting. The creatures poured into the passage, their glowing eyes locked on him, their shrieks reverberating through the chamber. His hands trembled as the thread of energy flared brighter, the crimson light pulsing wildly.
The first creature lunged, its slick, sinewy body jerking unnaturally as it closed the distance. Eliar didn't think—he didn't have time. The energy in his hand surged, instinct taking over as he thrust his palm forward. "Stay back!"
The light erupted in a jagged arc, slamming into the creature mid-leap. It disintegrated instantly, its body collapsing into ash. Eliar staggered, his chest heaving as the remaining creatures froze. Their glowing eyes flickered, their movements faltering.
They're afraid, he realized. The thought steadied him, sharpening his focus. He could still feel the energy swirling around him, wild and chaotic, but responsive. He grabbed hold of it again, weaving the threads into a new barrier. It snapped into place just as the creatures lunged again, their claws slamming against the wall of light.
Eliar collapsed to his knees, his hands shaking. The barrier held—for now—but he could feel its weakness, the way the energy frayed at the edges. The creatures hadn't left. Their shrieks echoed through the passage as they clawed at the light, relentless.
His body ached, his mind reeling from the strain. He stared at the veins on the wall, the faint crimson glow that had saved his life twice now. "What the hell is this stuff?" he muttered. His voice trembled, more from frustration than fear. Whatever the energy was, it wasn't just a tool. It felt alive, and every time he used it, it took something from him.
The barrier flickered, a sharp reminder that his time was running out. He couldn't stay here. If the creatures broke through again, he didn't have enough left in him to stop them.
"Alright," he whispered, forcing himself to his feet. His legs shook, his body screaming for rest, but rest wasn't an option. The chamber stretched deeper into the rock, the faint veins of light leading him forward. He had no idea where the passage led, but staying here was suicide.
He glanced back at the barrier. The creatures clawed at it with unrelenting fury, their glowing eyes burning with hunger. The sight sent a chill down his spine.
This world wasn't just hostile—it was alive. And it wanted him dead.
Eliar turned and began walking, his steps unsteady but determined. The faint glow of the veins guided him forward, deeper into the unknown. The air grew colder, heavier, as if the further he went, the more the world pressed down on him.
But he didn't stop. He couldn't.
For the first time since waking in this nightmare, Eliar felt something other than fear. It wasn't hope—not yet. It was defiance. If this world wanted to crush him, it would have to try harder.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone