The air within the temple grew heavy, the oppressive energy radiating from the fractured seal suffocating. Sylas gritted his teeth, his sword glowing faintly in his hand. The shadowy figure that emerged from the seal solidified further, its form both monstrous and humanoid. Tendrils of black energy spiraled from its body, warping the space around it.
The whispers in Sylas's mind were frantic now, their urgency barely coherent:
"It is the First… the Unbound… you cannot face it!"
The figure's glowing red eyes locked onto Sylas. Its voice was like a storm, deep and all-encompassing:
"You carry the mark, mortal. That which binds me… also ties you to this prison."
Sylas tightened his grip on his sword. "What are you? And what do you mean by 'prison'?"
The being tilted its head, its tendrils writhing in agitation.
"I am what remains of freedom. I am the First Unbound, cast into chains by those who feared my power. You meddle with forces you cannot understand, child."
Before Sylas could respond, the First Unbound raised its hand. Black energy surged toward Sylas, twisting into jagged spikes that tore through the air. He rolled to the side, the spikes crashing into the temple walls and disintegrating them.
The ground trembled beneath his feet as Sylas lunged forward, his sword glowing brighter as he channeled his power. He struck at the figure's torso, but his blade passed through it as if slicing through smoke.
The First Unbound laughed, its voice filled with disdain.
"Do you think such a weapon can harm me? You are but a speck in the shadow of true power."
The whispers returned, their tone sharper than ever:
"Do not rely on the sword. Use the mark. Its power resonates with the seal."
Sylas glanced at the glowing mark on his hand. It pulsed faintly, as if urging him to act. He took a step back, his mind racing. The creature was too powerful to defeat through brute force. If the whispers were right, the answer lay in the mark—and the seal.
The Unbound surged forward, its tendrils lashing out. Sylas narrowly avoided them, his movements guided by instincts sharper than ever. He ducked beneath one strike and countered with a blast of energy from the mark.
The golden light struck the creature, and it recoiled, a guttural roar echoing through the temple.
Sylas's heart raced as he pressed the attack, each pulse of energy from the mark forcing the creature back. The fractured seal behind the Unbound pulsed in response, its chaotic energy fluctuating wildly.
The whispers grew louder:
"The seal must stabilize! Force the First back within!"
Sylas's eyes darted to the broken fragments of the seal. He had no idea how to repair it, but the power in his hand seemed tied to its energy.
Dodging another attack, Sylas sprinted toward the seal. The Unbound roared in anger, its tendrils stretching out to stop him. Sylas deflected one with his sword, the blade vibrating from the impact, and narrowly avoided another that tore through the ground beside him.
When he reached the seal, the mark on his hand flared with a blinding light.
The First Unbound hesitated, its tendrils faltering.
"No! You do not understand what you are doing!"
Sylas ignored the creature's protests, slamming his hand against the seal. Energy surged from the mark, flowing into the fractured surface. The broken fragments of the seal began to move, their edges glowing as they struggled to reconnect.
The Unbound screamed, its form distorting as the seal's energy pulled at it.
"You fool! This prison will not hold forever! And when I am free again, you will be the first I destroy!"
With a final, deafening roar, the First Unbound was dragged back into the seal. The fragments fused together, the glowing energy stabilizing into a faint but steady pulse.
Sylas staggered back, his body trembling from the effort. The mark on his hand dimmed, its energy spent. The temple was eerily silent now, the oppressive atmosphere lifted.
The whispers in his mind returned, their tone calmer but still grave:
"You have delayed the inevitable. The seal is weak, and the First will rise again if the Trial is not completed. You must move forward."
Sylas took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the now-stable seal. The visions, the whispers, the power—it was all connected, but the full picture remained elusive.
"I'll stop it," he said quietly, his voice filled with determination. "Whatever it takes."
With that, he turned and left the temple, the path ahead shrouded in darkness and mystery.
Sylas had faced the First Unbound and survived, but the encounter left him with more questions than answers. The Trial was no longer just about survival—it was about protecting the fragile balance of a world on the brink of collapse.