In the heart of Zeph's soulspace, where beauty reigned supreme, the creature remained confined, isolated within a prison of Lucian's making. For a being that had once devoured stars and mana alike, a force of terror that roamed the multiverse unchecked, this imprisonment was unlike anything it had ever experienced.
The soulspace itself seemed a serene and tranquil place, but the creature's reality within it was the very definition of torment.
The creature's form, a mass of ethereal darkness and twisted energy, coiled and thrashed within the invisible barrier that surrounded it. Its many eyes—once blazing with the arrogance of untouchable power—were now filled with rage and confusion. It had attempted everything within its vast knowledge to break free.
Spells of unimaginable power had bounced back, dissipating against the impenetrable barrier like mere sparks. Physical attacks, though strong enough to shatter planets, had resulted in nothing but its own limbs dissolving into painful wisps of nothingness.
And the pain—it was unrelenting. The very energy that populated Zeph's soulspace seemed to be anathema to the creature's essence. Every time its form came into contact with the soulspace energy, its body sizzled, the outermost parts of its being dissolving as though dipped into an acid pit. The pain was indescribable, something the creature had never known in its eons of existence.
It snarled in fury, recoiling again as its body brushed the barrier, another part of its mass burning away into oblivion. This prison was not just meant to contain—it was meant to break. It was torture.
The creature's arrogance still burned bright in its mind. It was no mere mortal being to be trapped by such a feeble construct. How dare they—it fumed—these pathetic beings think they can cage me?
Yet, despite its boundless pride, the creature now understood something it had never before contemplated: suffering. Pain, once an abstract concept—something it had inflicted upon others—was now all too real. Lucian's visit had been the catalyst. When Lucian had stood before it, cold and detached, the creature had experienced true agony. His power, though different from anything the creature had encountered, had hurt it in ways it could not comprehend. Lucian had shown no mercy, and for the first time in its long existence, the creature had tasted defeat.
But the creature was nothing if not cunning. While the pain was overwhelming and constant, it would not let this be its end. It had survived through eons, manipulating and consuming everything in its path. It was adaptable, resourceful, and above all, patient. If it could not escape now, it would bide its time.
Every attempt it had made to break free—every powerful spell, every physical strike—had failed. The barrier remained without a scratch, indifferent to its assaults. And with each failed attempt, more of its essence dissolved into nothingness. Now, it understood that brute force would not be enough to free it from this prison. Instead, it would have to play a longer game.
The creature recoiled into itself, pulling away from the soulspace's harmful energy. Its immense form shuddered, its many eyes narrowing as it devised a new plan.
If pain is my enemy, then I shall conquer it, it thought, its malevolent mind turning with brutal precision. The creature had lived long enough to understand the nature of adaptation. It had evolved to consume mana, to manipulate energies across dimensions—why should pain be any different?
Slowly, it began to reduce its movements, minimizing the exposure of its form to the corrosive energy. It coiled tighter and tighter, drawing in its mass and making itself as small as possible to limit the degradation of its essence. Its once massive, looming figure shrank into a more condensed form, no longer lashing out blindly against the barrier that had humiliated it.
This was not submission—it was strategy.
The creature closed its eyes, focusing inward. Pain still coursed through every inch of its being, but it steeled itself. It would adapt. Just as it had done when it first learned to consume mana, or when it had first conquered the power of the stars, it would conquer this new foe. It would make pain a part of itself, a sensation that it could bear, even thrive on.
As it entered a meditative state, the creature's consciousness turned inward, seeking the means to fortify its essence against the constant assault of the soulspace's energy. It knew that this adaptation would take time, but time was a resource it had in abundance. Mortals feared time, for their lives were fleeting. But for a being like the creature, time was a tool—a thing to be wielded and bent to its will.
With each passing moment, it focused on the pain, not as an enemy, but as a sensation to master. Slowly, it began to numb itself to the agony. The burning, the dissolving, the constant searing of its body—it all became background noise as the creature disciplined its mind. Its arrogance remained intact; this suffering, though new, would not break it.
This is temporary, it told itself. I will endure, and wait for a chance to escape, when I do… I will be free.
Its cunning mind worked endlessly, plotting future moves even as its form shrank further, tightening into itself. If Lucian or Zeph believed that they had won, that they had subdued it, they were mistaken. This prison was temporary, a mere inconvenience. It was only a matter of time before it found a way to escape—before it adapted to the soulspace, its energy, and even the pain that was trying to wear it down.
For now, it would survive, it would endure.
And when the moment came, it would strike back.