The boy stepped onto the shard, and the void seemed to ripple in response. The faint glow beneath his feet faltered, flickering as though struggling to maintain its light. The hum of his chains intensified, a sharp vibration that echoed through the suffocating stillness. Each step forward felt heavier, the air pressing against him like an invisible weight.
From the edge of the chasm, Sylra's voice reached him, steady but laced with unease. "This shard… it's different. Be careful. It feels… alive."
The master remained silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the boy. When he finally spoke, his voice was deliberate, his tone heavy with meaning. "This is the penultimate trial—the shard of eternity. It doesn't test your strength or resolve. It will unravel the very fabric of your existence and force you to face what lies within."
The boy glanced back, his golden eyes narrowing. "I've faced everything the Cradle has thrown at me. This will be no different."
The master smirked faintly, though his expression was shadowed by something deeper. "Let's see if your confidence can withstand the weight of eternity."
The shard beneath him pulsed violently, and the world around him shattered. The void dissolved into cascading light, folding and twisting until it reformed into something both infinite and suffocating.
---
The Hall of Eternity
The boy stood in a vast hall, its scale incomprehensible. The walls were made of polished black stone veined with molten gold that pulsed faintly, like the heartbeat of some ancient, slumbering entity. The floor beneath him reflected his form, distorted and warped, while the ceiling stretched into a darkness that seemed alive, watching him.
The hum of his chains grew louder, resonating with the hall itself, as though they were part of the same entity. He took a step forward, his golden veins flaring faintly. The air was dense, oppressive, as if the weight of countless lifetimes bore down on him.
"What is this place?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
A voice answered, deep and resonant, layered with countless tones that seemed to echo through time itself. "This is the Hall of Eternity, where the weight of all that was and all that will be converges. To move forward, you must face the chains that bind not only your body, but your soul."
From the shadows ahead, a figure emerged. It was cloaked in swirling black and gold, its presence vast and unyielding. Its face was hidden, yet its aura pressed against the boy like an invisible storm, suffocating and undeniable.
"Who are you?" the boy demanded, his voice sharp but steady.
The figure tilted its head slightly, as if amused. "I am the shard, the Cradle's heart. I am the mirror of your existence, the truth of your chains, and the weight of your choices. If you are to proceed, you must prove that you can endure eternity."
---
The Trial of Infinity
The hall began to ripple, the golden veins in its walls pulsing faster. Images flickered into existence around the boy—fragments of his life, each one vivid and unrelenting. They surrounded him like specters, forcing him to confront the truths he could not escape.
The first image was of his childhood, a boy kneeling in the dirt as villagers loomed over him, their faces twisted with fear and hatred. Their voices echoed through the hall.
"You are cursed."
"You bring ruin to all you touch."
"Leave, or we'll destroy you."
The boy's golden veins flared faintly, his fists clenching. "I've moved beyond them. They mean nothing."
The images shifted, showing him standing over the bodies of his enemies, his hands bloodied and his face hard. Another scene appeared—a moment of hesitation where he spared a foe, only for that mercy to lead to betrayal and loss. The voices grew louder, overlapping in a relentless tide.
"Every choice binds you."
"Every step forward carries the weight of the past."
"Do you truly believe you can break the chains of eternity?"
The figure's voice rose above the din, calm yet unyielding. "Do you see now? Your chains are not just the heavens' burden. They are forged by your own hands. To break them, you must face the weight of your existence and emerge unbroken."
---
The Struggle Against Eternity
The boy staggered under the pressure, the chains within him flaring violently. They lashed out, their golden light colliding with the walls of the hall, sending shockwaves through the space. The hum became a roar, drowning out even his own thoughts.
"You carry more than you know," the figure said, its form flickering as it stepped closer. "The heavens, your past, your anger, your guilt—they are all part of the eternity you defy. Will you shatter under their weight, or will you rise?"
The boy fell to one knee, his breathing labored as the chains writhed around him. His golden veins dimmed, and for a moment, the weight felt insurmountable. The visions pressed closer, their voices piercing through him like jagged shards.
But then, a single memory surfaced—a moment of pain, defiance, and unyielding determination. The memory burned brightly, pushing back against the shadows. It was the moment he had sworn to break every chain, to rise above the heavens and carve his own path.
"I am more than their chains," he growled, his voice rising. "I am more than my mistakes, my guilt, and my past. I am my own existence, and I will not be bound by eternity."
The golden veins on his arms blazed with light, the hum of his chains roaring to life. Slowly, he rose to his feet, his golden eyes burning with unrelenting resolve.
"I'll break every chain—yours, mine, and the heavens'. Nothing will stop me."
---
The Final Clash
The hall trembled as the figure raised its arms, summoning tendrils of black and gold that lashed out at the boy. He charged forward, his fists blazing with golden energy, his chains erupting around him like living flames. Light and shadow collided, each impact shaking the hall to its core.
"You cannot break eternity," the figure said, its voice ringing with finality. "You are but a fragment against an infinite force."
"Then I'll shatter the infinite!" the boy roared, unleashing a surge of power that tore through the figure's defenses. The tendrils disintegrated, and the golden light pierced the figure's core. Its form flickered violently before shattering into fragments of light.
The hall began to collapse, its obsidian walls crumbling into the void. The boy stood at its center, his chains calm and steady, their hum now a low, resonant pulse.
---
Emerging Victorious
When the void reformed, the boy stood on the shard, its glow now steady and bright. Sylra and the master waited at the edge, their expressions unreadable as he approached.
"You've faced eternity and emerged intact," the master said, his tone carrying rare approval. "But the heart of the Cradle still waits. The final trial will demand everything you have left."
The boy nodded, his resolve unshaken. Without hesitation, he turned toward the next shard, its faint light beckoning him forward.
---
The Watching Shadow
As he moved on, the void rippled faintly. At its edge, a shadow stirred, its form dark and indistinct. Its glowing eyes watched him silently, their gaze heavy with intent.
The boy didn't look back. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it—and break it—with the same unrelenting determination.