The Devourer's Dominion

The moment that voice spoke, the entire space shuddered.

The golden glow flickered, replaced by cracks of darkness splitting through the air like shattered glass.

Aetheron's body tensed.

This wasn't just some illusion breaking apart.

Something was forcing its way in.

The masked figure in front of him didn't move. They simply turned their head slightly, as if observing the change with mild interest.

"He is not ready."

The voice echoed again, deeper this time.

And then—

Aetheron felt it.

A presence.

No, an intrusion.

Something massive was pressing against this realm, forcing its way through the cracks. He had felt powerful beings before—the Sovereign, the Warden, even those monstrous entities from the prison.

But this was different.

This wasn't just power.

It was consumption.

Like something was devouring the space itself.

The masked figure finally spoke.

"So you followed him here after all."

The cracks widened.

And then—

A hand pushed through.

No skin. No flesh. Just an abyss-like form, shifting and twisting like it didn't belong to this world.

Aetheron barely had time to react before the hand gripped the air itself—

And tore it open.

The Arrival

Aetheron staggered back as the tear expanded, splitting reality apart like paper.

From the void, a figure stepped through.

Not a monster.

Not a beast.

But something worse.

A man.

Or at least, something that looked like one.

He was tall, clad in a deep black robe that shimmered like liquid night. His face was obscured—almost as if the world itself refused to define his features. Only his eyes were visible.

Burning.

Twisting.

Like two endless vortexes, swallowing everything they touched.

Aetheron's instincts screamed.

This thing wasn't normal.

It wasn't even alive in the way he understood.

The masked figure finally turned fully, facing the intruder.

"You should not be here."

The robed figure tilted its head slightly, as if amused.

"And yet, here I stand."

The space around them trembled.

The throne pulsed with a faint glow, reacting to the presence of the new arrival.

Aetheron shifted his stance.

He didn't know what was happening, but he could tell—

These two knew each other.

And whatever this was, it wasn't just some petty power struggle.

The masked figure exhaled softly.

"You were erased. You should not exist anymore."

The robed figure let out a low, distorted chuckle.

"You of all people should know… nothing truly disappears."

Aetheron's grip tightened. His Dominion flickered around him, responding to the sheer weight of the presence before him.

The masked figure turned slightly, as if considering something.

Then, they spoke again.

"You seek to take him, don't you?"

The robed figure didn't answer immediately.

Then—

"Not take."

"Reclaim."

Aetheron's heart pounded.

Reclaim?

What the hell was this thing talking about?

Before he could react, the robed figure moved.

Fast.

Too fast.

One moment he was standing by the fracture—

The next, he was right in front of Aetheron.

Aetheron's instincts kicked in.

He raised his hand, Dominion surging—

But it was too late.

A single finger pressed against his forehead.

And then—

The Void's Embrace

Aetheron's vision shattered.

The chamber was gone.

The throne, the masked figure, everything—

Vanished.

And in its place—

An endless, empty void.

Aetheron gasped, staggering forward.

No ground.

No sky.

Just nothingness.

And in the center of it all—

The robed figure.

Standing there.

Watching him.

"Do you feel it?"

Aetheron's breath was unsteady. His Dominion flickered erratically, struggling to find something to exist within.

"This is where all things end, Aetheron."

The robed figure took a slow step forward.

"You have walked the path of Dominion… but you have not yet understood its cost."

Aetheron clenched his fists. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The figure tilted its head.

"You think power is something you simply take? Something you wield?"

It raised a hand.

The void around them quivered.

"Dominion is not about ruling, boy. It is about consuming."

Suddenly, the space around them shifted.

And Aetheron saw them.

Dozens.

Hundreds.

Thousands of figures, standing in the endless darkness.

All of them…

Looked like him.

Aetheron's blood ran cold.

He turned, scanning the endless sea of reflections.

But they weren't reflections.

They weren't moving like him.

They weren't even alive.

They were empty.

Shells.

Like discarded remnants of something that had once existed.

The robed figure continued.

"You are not the first, Aetheron."

"You are simply… the latest."

Aetheron's breath caught.

He took a step back.

The void beneath him didn't shift. It was like standing on air, weightless, meaningless.

The robed figure took another step forward.

"The one before you failed."

"As did the one before him. And the one before that."

Aetheron's mind raced.

What the hell was this thing saying?

How could there be others?

Before he could speak, the robed figure lifted a hand—

And the void around them collapsed.

Return to the Throne Room

Aetheron gasped as he snapped back into reality.

He was on his knees.

Sweat dripped down his face.

The masked figure was standing over him.

The robed figure was gone.

As if it had never been there.

Aetheron's hands trembled.

That wasn't a dream.

That wasn't an illusion.

It was real.

And worst of all—

It felt familiar.

The masked figure finally spoke.

"Now you understand."

Aetheron looked up, breathing heavily.

His vision was still spinning.

But one thing was clear—

He wasn't just walking a path anymore.

He was standing at the edge of something far bigger than he had ever imagined.