Kyrian's eyes snapped open. For a moment, the disorienting void swallowed every sense. A moment of confusion. But then he felt it—the oppressive weight of chains, cold and unyielding, clamped around his wrists and ankles, anchoring him to the abyss.
The clink of metal against whatever unseen surface held him was the only sound in this silent expanse, a stark reminder of his confinement. The darkness around him seemed alive, a smothering entity eager to consume his consciousness. Determined, Kyrian shifted, and the chains bit into his flesh, sapping at his primordial mana. For a moment, Kyrian was startled by the icy chill that seeped into his veins. Slowly, he resisted the strange energy within him and gradually regained control of his mana.
Eventually, Kyrian's mind sharpened, clawing back fragments of his past from the darkness that sought to suffocate his thoughts. Memories flickered in the periphery of his consciousness—Kendreia, the world he had shaped with care and devotion, sculpting mountains and carving rivers as an artist would with clay and chisel. And I'lwen, his twin who was forged from the same celestial fire and once filled creation's halls with his laughter, serving as the manasource of all existence. Had I'lwen suffered the same fate, imprisoned by the System's vile magic?
Longing seared through him. It scorched away the remnants of disorientation, leaving behind a smoldering core of resolve. Kyrian's heart ached for his twin, the realm of Kendreia thriving under their guidance—a realm snatched away by the Adjudicators' treachery.
The chains seemed to tighten with the resurgence of his will, as if sensing the threat of his awakening power. Yet Kyrian refused to succumb to despair. With each memory of I'lwen and the splendor of Kendreia before its fall, his resolve crystallized further.
"Brother," he whispered into the engulfing darkness, a single word heavy with promise and fraught with peril. "I will find you. And together, we shall restore what was taken from us."
In the echoing silence that followed, determination settled upon Kyrian's features. His cosmic blue eyes began to glow, a beacon of primordial might defiant against the abyss. Kyrian's essence quivered as the vile tendrils of System Magic once again clawed through his veins, each invasive thread corrupting his primordial mana and searing his consciousness. The violation was not merely a physical agony but a desecration of his very being, a relentless corrosion that sought to use his magic to further entrap him.
With a guttural growl, he spits out a venomous curse towards those who had dared to bind him. The Adjudicators, mere puppets of the System, had foolishly thought their vile System magic could entrap his primordial power. They were successful - but after eons of slumber, he had re-established his connection to his primordial essence. He could feel it stirring inside him, a chaotic storm building in defiance as he prepared to unleash his wrath upon those who had wronged him.
I will dismantle this perversion of magic brick by brick. Kyrian's mind seared with the clarity of purpose. He had been a creator, but he would become a destroyer if that was what it took to free his realm. His brother's face flashed before his eyes, bolstering his determination. I'lwen, whose fate remained shrouded in mystery, was out there and he needed to find him.
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"Brother, hold on," he murmured, drawing upon the vestiges of his power that pulsed within the chains' confines. With every ounce of strength, every fiber of his being, he pledged to break free. The abyss around him seemed to shrink, cowering before his indomitable spirit. Kyrian's consciousness delved deep, spiraling into the core of his being where the taint of System Magic lingered like a festering wound. There, in that inner sanctum of self, he waged a silent war against the corruption that sought to suffocate his primordial essence. The process was painstaking. With unwavering focus, he encased each fragment of the invasive energy in layers of his own pure mana, isolating it from his core. Methodically, he expelled the corruption, shattering its influence over him piece by piece. It was an intricate dance of power, a symphony of will against will, played out in the silence of the void.
At first, the changes were imperceptible, but as time wore on, Kyrian eventually felt the shift within. His primordial mana, once corrupted by the System's poison, began to pulse anew with vitality that had been dormant for far too long. The sensation was akin to awakening from a slumber, muscles protesting yet slowly regaining their former strength.
With each reclaimed piece of himself, Kyrian tested the renewed vigor coursing through his veins. He flexed his fingers, and the chains that bound him quivered in defiance to his burgeoning power. He pulled against the cold, heavy links, feeling the resistance of the metal as it groaned under the strain of his burgeoning might. A surge of energy rippled through him, and for an instant, the darkness of the void flickered with a spectral light.
"Enough," he whispered, voice resonant with the authority of an ancient deity. The surge came as both a whisper and a roar—an explosion of force that emanated from Kyrian's very being. It traveled through the chains, meeting resistance, but ultimately proving unstoppable. With a sound like shattering reality, the links of his confinement burst apart and scattered into the darkness like a thousand dying suns.
As the remnants of his bonds fell away, Kyrian felt the shackles of System magic weaken, not just around his limbs, but within his soul. Unfettered at last, Kyrian rose, the darkness of the void recoiling from his brilliant light. The broken chains lay at his feet, writhing in flames as his primordial fire corroded its magic.
With deliberate grace, he stepped forward, and it was as if the fabric of the abyss itself shied away beneath his stride. The cosmic glow of his eyes pierced the gloom, twin stars heralding the dawn of retribution. A feral smile curved his lips, not of joy but of an unyielding resolve sculpted through torment and betrayal. There was a beauty to him, stark and terrible, a primordial force unleashed upon a realm that had forgotten its maker. Out of nowhere, an error message projected in his vision. The text blinked in pulsing runes:
ERROR: BINDING CONSTRAINTS COMPROMISED. INITIATE RECOVERY PROTOCOL FAILED.
Kyrian snarled at this intrusive message. He could not expel the last vestiges of the System's insidious tendrils, but its grip on his primordial mana no longer applies. With a gesture of contemptuous ease, he swiped the air before him, and the message box dissipated, an insignificant mote brushed aside by the tide of his awakened power.
With a surge of willpower, he exploded with radiant aura. Kyrian then charged forward, propelled by an explosion of primal power. The void shattered in his wake, sending ripples outward as Kyrian tore through the fabric of space.
The primordial creator hurtled towards his realm, ready to reclaim what was rightfully his and reunite with his long-lost brother.