The light was unrelenting—a blistering, searing white pressed against Omen's eyelids, even closed. It was so bright it clawed through the thin skin, scorching his vision from within. The searing heat of it was almost physical, as though each ray had a mass, pressing him into the cold, sterile floor. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the light still found him. 'Too bright… too fucking bright.' The thought reverberated in his mind, fragmented and rattling with raw panic. He forced his head down, instinctively hoping the ground might offer some shelter, but the floor blazed just as intensely as the ceiling, blinding and sickly white, like the heart of a star.
Swallowing back a wave of nausea, he closed his eyes tighter and focused on his other senses, trying to push his consciousness beyond the oppressive light. But as he reached out, he felt a jarring emptiness—an absolute silence where there should have been faint murmurs, distant energy, subtle movements of the air. His passive senses were…gone!
'What is this!', now Omen couldn't stop panicking because right now was the first time he felt completely powerless. Most often he always felt his passive abilities within him despite the level of imprinted seal put in him. But now was the first time he felt completely blocked, and this terrified him more than the location he found himself in.
"Hello, Son of Chaos." The voice sliced through the silence, calm and chilling. Omen's gut tightened with recognition, rage, and a hint of fear. He knew that voice well. It was the voice of the rogue knight.
"How do you know that name?" His voice came out a low snarl, a spark of defiance crackling despite his growing terror. "Are you just a commander?" His voice was sharp, demanding.
The man chuckled, the sound dripping with mocking amusement. " Commander? Is that really what you should be concerned about right now"
Omen's jaw tightened, fury surging through him, yet he remained silent, eyes clenched shut. Even behind his closed lids, the light seared through, so potent that he feared the slightest peek would blind him. He focused instead, sending his mind to the floor, reaching out—
Only to freeze. 'What happened to my hands?'
Panic flared as he felt the space where his hands should have been. "What did you do to me?"
"Do to you?" The voice sneered, almost amused. "Did you think removing your hands was anything of consequence? It's merely a precaution, darkling." His tone darkened, taking on a sharp, predatory edge. "I don't know the full extent of your… abilities. So please, don't worry. We're just getting started."
"You should know who I am, do you dare touch the son of chaos!" Omen's heart pounded as he yelled. A cold, relentless terror began to settle in his gut. Suddenly the previously bright lights were turned off, granting Omen brief visual respite. Even with his eyes closed the pain he felt from the glare was just too much.
He blinked, relief flooding him as he found himself freed from that blinding white room. But as he fully opened his eyes, a cold horror seeped into his veins—he remained armless. His breath caught, and he gasped, feeling the phantom ache of limbs that no longer existed.
"Why are you doing this" The words escaped in a strangled whisper. He looked down, finding himself bound, his torso lashed to a metallic slab that was as cold and unyielding as the hatred festering in his chest. His form was a brutalized shell, his upper body alone, stripped of agency, of autonomy.
Rage kindled within him, a vicious fire, as he turned his gaze to the man standing behind a thick glass window—the commander. The commander's face was sharp and unforgiving, illuminated by a faint green glow from the controls.
"You know, Son of Chaos, we've been studying you," he began, his words calculated, brimming with cruelty. "So far, we've identified twenty abilities—remarkable, truly. Instant regeneration and pain nullification among them." He paused, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "But your gifts… they have limits."
The commander's smile widened. "I've used light magic to counter your regeneration," he continued, his tone relishing each word. "It's almost poetic, isn't it? The darkness within you, is bound to the light that destroys it. A natural counter, though I can see you haven't even awakened your darkness. It begs the question of the relationship between you and your sentinel"
"What is this nonsense about sentinels you've been saying? Can't you just fucking explain things!" Omen's fury surged, but he couldn't move, bound as he was to the cold, merciless table. The commander continued as he completely ignored his words.
"We've sliced you open, nullified your healing. But that damn pain tolerance of yours…" He chuckled darkly, his eyes lighting up with malevolent satisfaction. "I've found a way past it, finally."
Omen watched the man's hand hover near a small device on his belt, something sleek and silver that emitted a faint hum. The device crackled to life, and a searing jolt shot through Omen's body, a raw, electric agony that bypassed every defence, ripping through his pain tolerance as though it were paper.
"AHHHH!!!!" For the first time in years, he screamed—a scream that echoed within the cold, empty walls of the chamber, raw and primal, the sound of pure, undiluted suffering. His body convulsed against the restraints, the pain sharp and excruciating, radiating through the vacant spaces where his arms once were, shooting like fire through his chest and spine.
And in the dark, twisted calm that followed his screams, the commander's smile grew, knowing he had finally found the key to Omen's torment. And he wasn't done yet.
"I'm going to see if I can track down the sentinel you serve. If I can just pinpoint that then I could trade your body to the right person" The commander murmured as his footsteps echoed through the sterile, hollow room.
The commander stopped beside a smaller, nearly invisible table off to the side, hidden in shadow until now. On it sat a cage, dark and grim, with tiny holes dotting the top. An acrid smell wafted from it, pungent and earthy, something almost alive, primal. Omen's breath caught, dread swirling within him as he watched the man lift the cage, holding it like a delicate treasure.
"I've spent countless hours dissecting your abilities, looking for a way to bypass that infernal tolerance of yours." He turned toward Omen's pitiful, armless body, eyes gleaming with a gluttonous anticipation. "I needed something… unique. A perfect combination of piercing damage, disruption, and delayed agony—all woven into a seamless attack that can break past your defenses. The more pain the better" He moved closer, and Omen's gaze darted to the small holes in the cage, catching the faintest glimpse of movement within.
The commander's face lit up with sick amusement as he opened the cage with agonizing slowness. "In this prison," he continued, his voice lowering to a dark murmur, "no technology can reach the kind of raw, calculated precision required to strip you down, piece by piece. So I looked… rural. And guess what I found?" His smile stretched wider, eyes darkening with an eerie, almost childish glee.
"They call them the Burrowing Blight," the commander said softly, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched Omen's eyes widen with horrified realization, his gaze narrowing on the dark, monstrous shapes pacing within the cage. They were unlike anything he had seen before, twisted creatures the size of newborn puppies, with sleek black fur that seemed to absorb the dim light, rendering them into shadows with glinting, intelligent eyes. Each stood a quarter meter tall when fully erect, with bodies a sinister five inches long, all muscle and menace. Thick, glistening incisors protruded from their mouths—jagged, needle-sharp blades capable of slicing through steel. Their whiskers twitched, crackling faintly with a dangerous, electric hum, while claws tipped in venom tapped against the metal base, leaving a faint, toxic green stain with every scrape.
The commander's voice cut through the silence, thick with a satisfaction that chilled Omen to the core. "Piercing metal-cutting incisors, electrified whiskers, venomous claws. You see, in the wild, these creatures burrow harmlessly, hunting tiny insects. But in captivity… with a bit of engineering… they became my solution to breaking you."
Omen's heart hammered, his breaths shallow, but he forced himself to hold the commander's gaze, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear. The man's grin only grew as he moved forward, gripping the large cage and lifting it. With calculated precision, he dropped it onto what remained of Omen's mutilated body. The metal base scraped cold against his bronze skin before the commander slid it away, removing Omen's only barrier from the monstrous creatures within.
For a moment, there was a sickening pause, a heartbeat of silence as Omen stared into the creature's dark, beady eyes. Then, one shifted, claws pressing down on his exposed flesh, each tiny point igniting a sharp, piercing agony that surged up through his nerves like lightning. Omen's jaw clenched against the flood of pain, his breath catching in his throat as he fought to control his reaction. But the commander watched with a knowing smirk, delighting in Omen's discomfort.
"Seems like it works fine. You can't summon your powers anymore; did you think I would leave you unsealed?" His laughter was low, chilling, vibrating through the room with dreadful certainty. Then he turned, tugging at a thin mechanical string on the cage, adjusting it.
In seconds, an intense heat began to radiate from above, searing through the metal bars with a crackling hiss. The rodents, feeling the oppressive warmth closing in, froze, their dark eyes gleaming with instinctual terror. Realizing their only path to escape was the vulnerable flesh below, they wasted no time, and with a unified frenzy, their sharp incisors and venom-tipped claws tore into Omen's chest.
"Ahhhhgghghh!!!" Omen's scream tore through the chamber, raw and shattering, his mind blank with pain as they burrowed into his torso, their gnashing teeth slicing through his skin, muscle, and sinew. The sound of their frenzied digging mixed with his pained cries, a cacophony of pure unfiltered agony. Each bite felt like a dagger twisting deeper, every frantic scratch like a fire ripping through his nerves. Blood spilled in hot rivers, coating his skin, and pooling under him as the rodents pressed on, heedless, driven mad by the heat pressing from above.
Above, the metal bars of the cage began to soften, glowing with an angry red that spread, creeping downward in molten drips. It was melting right above his skin. The first drop landed on Omen's exposed chest, burning through his flesh instantly, searing down to the bone. He jerked, his scream caught in his throat, the pain crashing through him in waves. Drop after drop fell, each one burning deeper, the metal hissing as it melted into him, each one a new assault on his already tattered mind.
The rodents, drenched in his blood and the hot drops sped up in a terrified frenzy, continued their brutal excavation. Their bodies quivered as they burrowed toward his spine, their claws digging past every rib, their incisors tearing apart whatever tissue dared to resist. Any bone and nerve in their path was reduced to splinters, their teeth cleaving through with terrifying ease. Every moment stretched into eternity, every breath an agony he was powerless to end. All the while, the molten metal dripped like a deadly rain, each touch dissolving flesh and muscle as it carved deeper into him.