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27.77% Game's Villain; The World of the Anima / Chapter 9: Chapter 8: Anima Awakening Pt 3

章 9: Chapter 8: Anima Awakening Pt 3

Asher, It was his turn.

He stepped forward, his expression was calm and reached out to touch the Animodulus.

The moment his fingertips brushed the cool surface of the sphere, Asher felt a creepy sensation swept through him, yanking him from the temple chamber.

A searing agony ripped through him. It wasn't pain, not exactly, but a violation.

Something wants to rip his soul apart.

Darkness, thicker than any fog, swallowed him whole.

Asher found himself utterly alone, the air was stagnant and oppressive.

He choked, but no sound came out, a gasp trapped in a nonexistent throat.

He was alone, drifting in a void that seemed to press in on him from all sides, a tangible weight crushing his whole being.

It wasn't natural.

Such a thing shouldn't happen.

A chilling loneliness surrounds him.

In front of him appeared an oppressive black orb that consumed everything around it.

The place is devoid of light or sound.

The orb pulsed with a dark, malevolent energy, a presence that reeked of malice and corruption.

'Orb of Darkness…' he wondered, a bit surprised and confused. The oppression and agony are all gone.

Despite the absence of light, Asher saw everything with uncanny clarity.

An unsettling silence reigned over him, as he looked at the Orb with interest.

'Strange…' he couldn't let out a word. He couldn't speak, couldn't even breathe, yet he knew.

Something was about to happen.

A sudden crack split the surface of the orb, and a crimson lightning bolt, impossibly intense and bright struck against the inky black Orb.

With the sudden invasion of Lightning, a large crack appeared in the seemingly impenetrable blackness.

It was followed by another, and another until the entire black enclosure crackled with this lighting.

Cracks spiderwebbed across the dark world, No, it wasn't no longer a crack.

But a tear in reality.

Each new lightning created a fissure splitting the fabric of reality itself.

The world shattered, it was like a pane of glass under a giant's fist.

Crimson light, tinged with an ominous purple hue, pulsed through the widening tears, spewing forth tendrils of pure darkness.

They writhed and pulsated, resembling monstrous, oily tentacles, reaching towards the Orb of Darkness.

As the tentacles neared, the surrounding darkness intensified, tearing further at the fabric of reality, birthing more of these grotesque, yet strangely beautiful tentacles.

Unlike the Orb's malevolent and evil energy, these newcomers' tendrils of darkness radiated a different kind of darkness – a chaotic, something far worse writhing entity that defied understanding.

For the first time, the Orb of Darkness reacted, Instead of its usual pulsating rhythm, it writhed in protest. It flickers erratically, like a frantic heart facing an executioner's blade.

But its resistance seemed doomed.

The tendrils of darkness pulsed.

The crimson-veined tentacles lashed out like parasitic vines, attaching themselves with a sickening squelch.

Gradually, that large sphere of darkness began to shrink.

Unnatural slurping sounds came from the tentacles.

The Orb didn't even struggle, drained of its malevolent light as the crimson veins sucked the darkness from its core, replacing it with a sickly, pulsating purple.

And then, the world shattered, not just around Asher, but within him.

A colossal tear ripped open the very fabric of his being, revealing an abyss of darkness infinitely deeper and more terrifying than the Orb itself.

He felt it, a cold, slithering tendril reaching into the core of his soul.

Something was stirred within him, a darkness, long dormant, was awakening.

Asher felt something crawling inside his body, his body trembled.

Fear? No, it wasn't not fear. But something was far greater… it was awakening, an intoxicating thrill that sent shivers down his nonexistent spine.

This darkness, it was beautiful.

It was a mix of obsidian and crimson, the darkness felt like a beauty that seemed to be calling him.

A long-lost piece of himself finally returns home.

And then eventually the world finally broke apart like a mirror.

As the monstrous tentacles fed on the remains of the Orb, draining its power, Asher felt himself drawn closer.

The world around him dissolved in a final, blinding flash.

When his vision cleared, he found himself standing at the centre of a cathedral of grotesque creatures.

Surrounding him. Ten obsidian monolithic towers, each taller than any skyscraper he'd ever dreamt of, rising from its depth in the sky.

They spewed the writhing tendrils that had consumed the Orb of Darkness.

He adores the sight.

Looking down, he saw small creatures without any Facial structure, crawling, wreathing.

Asher looked at them, then at his hands.

Slowly he reached out, a disembodied hand of pure darkness followed him and came towards his hands.

Asher waited… but his hands went towards the disembodied hand.

Silence, it was utter silence… waiting for him.

The world wants him to hold it.

So was Asher.

He grasped a nearby tendril.

The touch sent a jolt of ecstasy through him, a warmth that surpassed the absolute.

This wasn't just power; it was kinship.

A belonging he never knew he craved.

He belonged here, in the depth of this abyss, amidst the writhing darkness.

This darkness, it understood him in a way nothing ever had.

It was a reflection, a warped mirror held up to his soul.

This wasn't just power; it was acceptance and belonging.

It had found its owner, its lover... It's ruler. It loved him. It was him.

It was a beauty beyond human comprehension.

"So beautiful…" he breathed, his voice a distorted echo in the vast darkness.

Asher found this darkness was more magnificent, more captivating than anything he'd ever seen in his whole life.

This darkness, it was more than anything his world could offer.

It held a warmth he'd never known, an impossible feeling of completion.

This place, this darkness, was a part of him.

"Ahh~ This is me," he whispered, a yearning.

He extended a hand, an impossible tenderness blooming within him.

The creature within him responded, tendrils wrapping around him like a loving embrace.

As he sank into the darkness, his figure dissolved in this timeless place and became one.

He found himself not just existing within the darkness, but becoming one with it.

His form, if it could even be called that anymore, swirled with this energy, tendrils of obsidian reaching out to embrace him fully.

The darkness pulsed with a growing urgency, a desire for release.

'It's awakening.' and Asher with 'it'.

Both together.

Not like lovers, Not like brothers, Not like family.

Not as master and servant, but as one.

From above, Asher perceived a sight that was out of the world.

Two colossal hands, formed entirely of the same writhing darkness, stretched across the endless void.

Their size surpassed anything he'd ever known, celestial bodies mere specks of dust compared to their immense scale.

They were formed from the same swirling darkness, yet held a strange luminescence within their grasp.

In the centre, cradled by these celestial hands, pulsed a singularity of absolute darkness, a heart-like thing at the core of this monstrous entity.

There. He was. He was home.

One with the darkness, and the darkness, with him.

***

Another chapter in few hours... Maybe the chapter wasn't of your liking, but it is what it is... Some random shit I wrote in the name of Inner Soul World...

By the way, got any stones that can supercharge my life more than a triple espresso? If you have slide some here ⋋⁠✿⁠ ⁠⁰⁠ ⁠o⁠ ⁠⁰⁠ ⁠✿⁠⋌


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