For a moment, everything stilled for Grey as he entered and exited his mental space in an instant.
When his senses returned, he found himself at the base of a massive tree, his arms and legs bound tightly in thick, glistening webs. The fibers burned and bit into his skin, their corrosive nature making every movement agonizing. Above him loomed the creature—a massive spider-like beast.
Its body was a grotesque fusion of sleek black chitin and glowing, pulsating veins of deep red and orange, as though molten lava coursed beneath its surface. Eight human-like eyes fixed on him, unblinking and hungry. Thin threads of energy emanated from its body, weaving through the air in mesmerizing, intricate patterns. This was the source of the illusions—the visions of beasts and fears that nearly shattered his resolve. But the guiding voice had woken him.
Grey gritted his teeth, his body straining against the webs as the spider inched closer, its movements deliberate and menacing. Every pull against the bindings sent a fresh wave of searing pain through his limbs. The mixture of corrosive and tensile strength made escape feel impossible. He felt his breath quicken, panic clawing at the edges of his mind.
“Light…ning. You…have…felt…lightning,” came the voice again, strained yet firm. The words carried an undeniable truth, cutting through his fear like a blade.
Grey’s mind raced, the memory of his trial flooding back. The bolt of energy, the surge of power that coursed through him, the nodes of light surrounding him in their chaotic dance. He had felt it before, but now he needed to command it.
His vision blurred as he focused on the currents of light. They appeared slowly, flickering into existence—nodes of vibrant colors, shimmering and shifting in the air around him. Reds, oranges, blues, greens—all swirling like a tempest. He didn’t know if it was from the guiding voice, but anytime it spoke, the entire weave of Will would show itself to him.
Not just red, he thought. All of them.
He reached out with his mind, commanding the nodes to gather at his hand. They resisted at first, swirling chaotically, but with each ounce of focus, he pulled them closer. Slowly, the lights began to coalesce around his palm, a mixture of vibrant hues sparking and clashing violently.
The pain started immediately. The corrosive webs around his wrist reacted to the energy, searing his skin even deeper. His hand burned as the wild energy fought to escape, small sparks jumping from his fingertips and vanishing into the air. Grey grimaced, his teeth clenched so tightly his jaw ached.
The threads holding him didn’t yield. The sparks were too weak, too unstable to burn through the bindings. A few fibers sizzled, but the majority remained intact, mocking his efforts.
“Damn it,” he hissed, his voice trembling with frustration.
The spider crept closer, its molten eyes narrowing as its jagged maw stretched open. Grey could hear the faint clicking of its teeth, like a predator savoring its kill. The heat of its breath brushed against his face as it drew near, the acrid stench making him gag.
He pushed harder, summoning every ounce of Will he could muster. The nodes grew brighter, more joined, blues, violets, their chaotic dance around his hand intensifying. The sparks turned to arcs, small bolts of lightning snapping in and out of existence. His skin screamed in protest, raw and blistering as the energy surged through him.
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“Come on,” he growled through gritted teeth. The lightning surged, but it was still wild, unfocused. His bindings held firm.
Suddenly, the spider lunged.
Its maw opened impossibly wide, jagged teeth gleaming as it sank them into Grey’s flank. Pain erupted through him, white-hot and unbearable. Blood gushed from the wound, pooling against the beast’s dripping fangs.
Grey’s scream pierced the air, raw and desperate, but the agony sparked something deeper within him. Amidst the searing pain came the familiar feeling. The spark that had ignited during his trial roared back to life, uncontrollable and violent.
The nodes around his palm exploded outward, their chaotic energy no longer restrained. Lightning surged through the air, wild and untamed, like a storm breaking free. Plasma erupted from his hand, blindingly bright, tearing through the webs and obliterating the spider’s head in an instant.
The force of the explosion didn’t stop there. It surged outward in every direction, ripping through the forest like a hurricane of pure destruction. Trees splintered and vaporized. The ground cracked and smoldered. The webs dissolved into ash, their corrosive fibers reduced to nothing.
When the light faded, and the chaos subsided, the clearing was gone. Only a charred, smoldering crater remained.
In the center of the destruction sat Grey, slumped against the scorched earth. His breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, his body trembling from the sheer exertion. Blood seeped from the jagged bite on his side, and his hands were covered in burns, the skin raw and blistered.
But something felt wrong. His body felt empty—not just drained of energy, but hollow in a way he couldn’t quite comprehend. A void, vast and consuming, settled deep within him.
With a pained grunt, Grey lifted his trembling hands, seeking the source of the feeling. At first, he saw nothing. But then, the tips of his fingers began to crackle faintly. A faint shimmer danced along the edges of his burnt skin, and slowly, pieces of him started to crumble. First his fingertips, flaking into fine, glowing dust. Then the effect spread—further and further, creeping up his hands like an unstoppable tide.
The sight was so surreal that Grey felt no panic. It hardly seemed real. It wasn’t his body, surely—it was someone else’s. His mind struggled to reconcile the sight with reality.
A sound—distant and muted—broke his trance. He turned his head painfully toward the source, and through the haze, he saw them. Keen and Brawl burst into the barren wasteland of a clearing, their boots crunching on the scorched earth as they ran toward him.
“Grey!” Keen yelled, his voice sharp with desperation. He stopped just in front of the boy, his expression twisting with horror.
Both of Grey’s arms were gone from the elbows down, the disintegration creeping steadily upward. Brawl’s gaze dropped to Grey’s legs, where the same fate was spreading from his feet.
“What do we do?” Brawl asked, his usual stoic demeanor cracking under the weight of panic. “Take him to Elder?”
“There’s no time,” Keen replied, his voice trembling. He knelt before Grey, his hands hovering uselessly, unsure how to help. “Grey, stay with us. You still have so much to do.”
Grey saw their mouths moving, their faces etched with fear and desperation, but he heard nothing. The world around him had gone utterly silent. He blinked slowly, his vision blurring, but their expressions remained vivid. Worry. Pain. Helplessness.
And then, a smile. It took all the strength he had left, but Grey managed it. His lips curved weakly, and he spoke, though the words didn’t even reach his own ears.
“I’ve never seen Brawl cry.”
The words felt weightless, as though they floated away before they could land. Brawl’s face twisted, his lips moving in a way Grey couldn’t decipher. Keen shouted something, his hands clutching Grey’s shoulders, but the numbness had consumed everything. The void grew larger, swallowing sound, sensation, and thought.
It was hard to watch their faces. Even harder to keep his eyes open.
I’ll just close them for a second, Grey thought.
He let his eyelids fall, heavy and unyielding. Darkness enveloped him as the faint echoes of Keen and Brawl’s shouts mixed with the distant sounds of more voices arriving.