Chapter 2: The Dark Reawakening
The world was nothing but a blur—a hazy, twisting mass of jagged edges and distorted light. Tae-Hyun's body felt heavy, as though it was submerged in a thick fog, unable to move or breathe. He was aware of nothing but the crushing weight of exhaustion and the buzzing sensation that pulsed through his entire being. The golden light that had surged through him earlier was fading, draining him dry. He had used too much of it.
The last thing he remembered was the Shardborn, the terrifying monster whose claws had come so close to slashing through him. Then, the chaos. The chains. The teleportation.
And then... nothing.
He was fading.
But there was something else—something pulling him deeper into the void. It was a voice. Not from the world he knew, but from somewhere else, somewhere darker.
---
"You are weak, Ashborn."
The words echoed through the blackness, as if the very air vibrated with authority. The voice was deep, resonant, and unfamiliar, yet it carried an unsettling sense of truth, as though it had always known him. He couldn't understand why, but the name it spoke sent a cold shiver down his spine.
"I am not—" Tae-Hyun tried to protest, but the voice cut him off.
"You are." The voice was commanding, unyielding. "You are Ashborn, one of the Seven Rulers. Born of the Veil's destruction. You belong to it, and it belongs to you."
The darkness around him shifted, and suddenly, Tae-Hyun found himself standing—his body somehow moving despite the exhaustion that had consumed him. He blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The world around him was... wrong. Not like the world he had known. There was a twisting, fractured horizon, as if the sky itself had shattered. The ground was cracked and uneven, stretching into a void that seemed endless.
And then, from the shadows, the figure appeared. Cloaked in darkness, its form obscured by the swirling mists, it stepped toward him with a slow, deliberate pace. Tae-Hyun couldn't make out the figure's features, but there was an undeniable presence in the air, one that made his chest tighten.
"Who are you?" Tae-Hyun managed to croak, his voice barely above a whisper.
The figure's eyes—glowing with an eerie, unsettling light—locked onto him. The presence radiated with an unnatural power, as if it was both ancient and timeless. The figure's voice, when it came, was like thunder cracking through the void.
"I am Ashborn," the figure said, its voice resonating within the deepest parts of his mind. "I am the one who was forged from the Veil, and now, you are me."
Tae-Hyun recoiled. "No. I'm not—"
"You are the heir to the Distorted Truth. You carry the chains of reality. And you will break what cannot be mended."
Before Tae-Hyun could respond, the figure raised one hand, and the darkness around them shuddered. The ground beneath his feet cracked open, revealing a swirling abyss of golden energy. He staggered back in shock.
"Look at the chains you command."
Tae-Hyun turned his gaze downward, his breath catching in his throat. The chains—the golden energy he had summoned earlier, when he had bound the Shardborn—were there. Not physical, not visible in the way he had seen them in the world above, but he could feel them. They were tethered to his body, wrapped around his very essence, glowing faintly in the dark void.
The chains were part of him. He had no control over them—at least, not yet—but they were undeniably his. And the power they held was terrifying.
"These chains," the voice intoned, "are called 'Aetherbind.' They are the essence of reality itself, the fragments of space and time. You pull at the strings of existence and make them bend to your will."
Tae-Hyun swallowed hard. "I don't... understand. What do you mean?"
"You control more than just energy," the figure continued, its voice sharp and patient. "The Aetherbind chains are an extension of your will. You can manipulate the distance between things, warp space, and alter the flow of time itself. You did it when you trapped that Shardborn. You forced reality to obey you."
Tae-Hyun's mind raced. It felt like a dream—like a nightmare, something out of his control. "And the teleportation?"
The figure nodded, a slow, deliberate gesture that seemed to ripple through the air. "That is called 'Shatterstep.' The ability to fracture the space between your current reality and another. You move through dimensions, breaking the barriers that separate them, traveling in an instant, but at great cost. Every time you use it, you tear a little more at the fabric of your existence."
Tae-Hyun felt his heart pound in his chest. He remembered the sensation—the disorienting feeling of being pulled from one place to another. It had felt like something snapping inside him. "So I'm... breaking reality?"
The figure didn't answer immediately. It studied him for a moment, and then, as if coming to some decision, spoke again.
"Yes. But that is not your true power."
Tae-Hyun's head snapped up. "What do you mean?"
"Your true power lies in what you call 'Distortion.'" The figure's voice was final, carrying a weight that made the air around them tremble. "It is the ability to manipulate not just space and time, but the very foundation of reality itself. You can alter how things move, how they interact. You can collapse space and compress time, twist both until they can no longer hold form. You are not just breaking barriers, you are making them your own. You reshape the world around you."
Tae-Hyun's heart hammered in his chest as the weight of the figure's words sank in. "Distortion." It sounded almost impossible.
"But that power will destroy you, Ashborn," the voice warned, softer now, though no less menacing. "Each time you wield it, you tear a part of yourself away. You are tethered to the very thing you seek to control."
The darkness around them seemed to close in, and Tae-Hyun could feel the weight of the figure's words pressing down on him. He could sense it—the danger, the corruption, the allure of the power he now carried. "Why me?" he whispered, his voice shaking. "Why am I the one who has this power?"
The figure paused, and for the first time, Tae-Hyun saw the faintest flicker of something—an emotion? Regret? The figure's voice was heavy as it spoke again.
"Because you are the last. The world's destruction has left only fragments. You are the one who will either mend it or shatter it completely."
Tae-Hyun's mind reeled. He was lost in a storm of confusion, but one thing was clear: the power inside him was not just a blessing—it was a curse. The chains. The Shatterstep. And now... Distortion.
He had no idea how to control it. He had no idea how much more he could take.
And yet, somehow, he knew one thing for certain:
This was only the beginning.
---
Tae-Hyun's eyes snapped open, his chest heaving as if he had been holding his breath for far too long. He was back in the real world, lying on the cold, cracked pavement. His body ached, but the exhaustion had eased, leaving behind a strange sense of emptiness.
His fingers twitched. He could still feel the golden chains that now ran through him. The raw, unrelenting power.
And a voice echoed in his mind, low and familiar, like a distant whisper:
"Ashborn."
The name was his. Whether he wanted it or not.