Deep in the impenetrable depths of the prison, in a chamber where even light seemed forbidden, a man sat bound. The room was pitch black, its walls covered in ancient seals glowing faintly, pulsing like the rhythm of a heartbeat. At its center, the man was restrained, suspended in chains that seemed more alive than metal, etched with runes older than memory itself.
This prisoner was the most dangerous being in the prison, perhaps in the entire world.
His body was motionless, held firmly in place by those chains. His wrists, ankles, and torso were secured so tightly that even the smallest movement was impossible. A heavy muzzle covered his mouth, its surface carved with intricate glyphs glowing faintly, ensuring his silence.
And yet, despite his confinement, his presence was suffocating.
The man was beautiful. His face, framed by long dark hair, was almost otherworldly in its perfection. His sharp jawline and striking features would have been captivating, had they not been tinged with a cold, inhuman aura. His eyes, barely open, glowed a faint red in the darkness, burning with quiet fury. He looked like a fallen king, a demon lord cast into chains but unbroken.
In the silence of the chamber, a single thought echoed in his mind.
"It is time."
No words left his lips. The muzzle ensured that. But his thoughts were sharper than any blade, deliberate and brimming with purpose.
"The chains will crack. They know it, but they can do nothing."
His gaze shifted ever so slightly, fixing on an unseen point in the darkness.
"The skies stir… He is coming."
---
Miles above the prison, the sky was cloaked in storm clouds. The winds howled, carrying with them the promise of rain and the metallic tang of mana. Amidst the thunder, a deep, rhythmic sound reverberated—steady and powerful, like the heartbeat of some ancient beast.
A dragon.
Its silhouette loomed massive against the storm, wings so vast they seemed to blot out the sky with each beat. Its body, covered in black scales that shimmered faintly, absorbed the lightning flashes rather than reflecting them.
Its crimson eyes pierced through the storm, fixed on the horizon with unshakable purpose. Every movement exuded raw, unrestrained power.
The dragon approached the prison, its thoughts a singular focus.
"My master… my master…"
Its voice, deep and guttural, carried through the air without sound. It wasn't spoken aloud but resonated through the ancient bond it shared with the man below.
"I am near. I am coming."
The dragon descended in a slow spiral, reducing the distance between it and the fortress below. As it approached, the winds seemed to bow to its presence, calming unnaturally as if the very elements submitted to its will.
The prison emerged below—an imposing structure standing defiant in a barren wasteland. Its walls, reinforced with seals and enchantments, had been designed to repel any intruder. But to the dragon, these defenses were trivialities.
"These walls will not hold," the dragon's thoughts echoed.
The mana surrounding the fortress trembled, the invisible energy reacting instinctively to the creature's presence.
---
Far below, in the heart of the prison, the chained man felt the faintest vibration. It was subtle, barely perceptible to anyone else, but to him, it was unmistakable. His eyes gleamed brighter, and though his lips were bound, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Everything is ready," he thought. "We will shatter this world."
The silence of the black chamber was broken by the faintest sound—a soft, almost imperceptible crack from one of the chains that held him.
And in the sky above, the dragon roared, its voice shaking the heavens.
The storm had begun.
***
The piercing sound of the alarm echoed through the prison corridors, a sharp metallic cry reverberating off the walls. The faint tremors that had begun earlier were growing stronger, shaking the floor beneath Takeshi's feet. He remained motionless in his cell, his eyes closed, letting his perceptions expand outward.
The chaos was palpable, not just in the noise but in the mana flows themselves. They twisted and churned erratically, responding to a force far greater than anything the prison had ever encountered. Slowly, Takeshi opened his eyes, their faint glow capturing the swirling disturbances in the air.
"A dragon," he thought, his heartbeat quickening slightly. He had sensed its overwhelming presence in the mana flows long before the guards had realized the magnitude of the threat.
Leaning back against the cold wall of his cell, he crossed his arms and continued observing. The dragon's immense power rippled through the prison's protective barriers, each beat of its wings shaking the air, each fiery breath disrupting the mana that fortified the structure.
The walls of the fortress, designed to contain monsters and high-level mages, trembled under the assault. Even the flows of mana that reinforced the stone seemed to flicker, fragile in the face of such overwhelming might.
"A dragon is a force even the gods cannot ignore," Takeshi mused, his expression cold and unreadable.
Outside, the roars of the guards and the shouts of commands echoed, but Takeshi knew it was futile. No amount of discipline or preparation could withstand what was coming.
Then it came—a roar that shook the entire prison to its core. The walls groaned, and Takeshi felt the vibrations pass through his body. He stepped away from the wall, his sharp eyes locked onto the door of his cell. The faint glow of the lock's enchantment flickered weakly, struggling to maintain its hold.
The ground shook violently as the outer barriers finally collapsed. The explosion of mana was deafening, sending shockwaves throughout the prison.
Dim light replaced the flickering glow of the protective spells, and the walls themselves seemed to sway under the impact. Then came the fire.
A black flame, hotter than anything Takeshi had ever felt, surged through the prison. Even from within his cell, he could feel its oppressive heat. The mana within the very stones of the fortress writhed and burned, distorting under the dragon's infernal power.
Takeshi took a deep breath, steadying himself. Panic clawed at the edges of his thoughts, but he forced it down. He wasn't like the others; he couldn't afford to lose control.
The prisoners in nearby cells screamed, some banging on their bars, others crying out for help. Takeshi remained silent, his mind calculating.
"If the structure collapses entirely, chaos will consume everything. I need to get out before that happens."
The door to his cell gave a weak creak before falling open, its enchantments finally succumbing to the destruction around it. Takeshi didn't move immediately. His glowing eyes scanned the mana flows, ensuring his path was clear.
Stepping into the corridor, he moved calmly, avoiding unnecessary attention. The halls were chaos—guards shouting, prisoners running, and debris falling from the ceiling.
But Takeshi had another objective in mind.
In a side corridor, he spotted a lone guard, clutching a weapon and looking around frantically. The man's fear was evident in his trembling hands and darting eyes. He was the perfect target.
Takeshi emerged from the shadows, his movements swift and precise. The guard didn't have time to react before Takeshi grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall.
— "Disable it," Takeshi said, his voice low and icy.
The guard struggled, but Takeshi's grip was unyielding. His free hand pressed a sharp, makeshift blade against the man's throat.
— "The seal. Now."
The guard froze, his fear overriding any thoughts of resistance. Shaking, he lifted his hand and began tracing runes in the air. A faint glow surrounded Takeshi's wrist as the seal on his skin dimmed and finally faded away.
A wave of relief and power washed over Takeshi as his mana surged back into his body, unrestricted for the first time in years. He flexed his hand, feeling the energy flow through him like a long-lost limb restored.
— "Thank you," Takeshi said softly.
With a swift motion, he twisted the guard's neck, letting the lifeless body slump to the floor.
Turning his attention back to the chaos, Takeshi focused on the fracture near the mines he had discovered earlier. The mana there was still unstable, the perfect weak point for an escape.
As the prison crumbled around him and the dragon's fire consumed everything in its path, Takeshi disappeared into the shadows, blending in with the hundreds of prisoners fleeing into the night.
***
The prison was collapsing into chaos. Flames consumed the walls, debris fell with every roar of the dragon, and the air was thick with ash and the stench of fear. Takeshi moved with cold precision, navigating the destruction like a shadow.
With the seal removed, his mana surged through his body, enhancing his senses and sharpening his every move. He could feel the chaotic flows of energy all around him, see the fractures in the defenses of the guards, and anticipate their movements.
"They're skilled," he thought as he watched a group of guards regroup in the distance. "Some of them wield powers that could match mine… but panic is their weakness."
Takeshi approached the guards' quarters, but his path was blocked by a group of five elite guards. They formed a defensive line, their mana glowing with intensity. At the center stood a massive man wielding a halberd encased in ice, its tip trailing frost across the ground. Flanking him were a mage manipulating a swirling orb of water, another with an electrified whip, and two swordsmen emanating fiery heat from their blades.
"Stop right there, prisoner!" the halberd-wielder barked, his voice echoing with authority.
Takeshi didn't respond. He assessed their formation, noting their synchronized mana flows and the narrow corridor that limited their movements. "They're well-coordinated, but this space works in my favor."
The water mage struck first, sending a compressed jet of water hurtling toward him. Takeshi sidestepped, reinforcing his legs with mana to close the distance in a blur of motion. As he reached the mage, he extended his palm and released a wave of energy. The impact hurled the mage backward into the wall, leaving him crumpled and motionless.
The halberd-wielder responded immediately, swinging his weapon in a wide arc that sent a wave of frost across the floor. The icy surface nearly destabilized Takeshi, but he channeled mana into his feet, regaining his footing and leaping forward. His twin blades struck with precision, piercing through the man's side armor and severing vital arteries. The guard fell with a guttural cry.
The electrified whip lashed out next, crackling with power. It wrapped around Takeshi's arm, sending a sharp jolt through his body. Gritting his teeth, he poured mana into his muscles and yanked the whip's wielder toward him. With one swift slash, he severed the guard's throat, ending the fight.
The remaining two guards hesitated, their fiery blades raised defensively. Takeshi capitalized on their indecision, projecting a double wave of energy that shattered their guard. In a flash, his blades found their marks, leaving the corridor silent but for the flicker of nearby flames.
Wiping the blood from his blades, Takeshi moved on.
When he reached the guards' quarters, the destruction was evident. Furniture was overturned, storage chests were broken open, and ash coated the floor. But Takeshi wasn't here for treasure; he needed tools to aid his escape.
He opened a heavy wardrobe and found a tactical winter suit. Black, insulated, and reinforced at the joints, it was designed for extreme conditions. It offered flexibility and protection, ideal for surviving the harsh environment outside the prison.
Sliding into the suit, Takeshi felt a sense of readiness return. The hood provided additional concealment, while the multiple pockets would prove useful for carrying supplies.
Nearby, a weapons rack caught his eye. Most of the equipment had been taken, but two twin blades remained. Their minimalist design belied their lethality; they were lightweight, perfectly balanced, and honed to razor-sharp precision.
Takeshi tested their weight in his hands, nodding in approval before securing them at his hips.
Finally, he found a detailed map in an overturned desk drawer. It displayed the prison's layout and surrounding terrain, marking escape routes and even a supply cache to the north. Rolling up the map, he tucked it into his suit.
"No spatial storage device, but this will do," he muttered.
As Takeshi exited the quarters, a deafening crash shook the prison. A section of the ceiling collapsed behind him, sending a cloud of dust and debris into the air. The dragon's roar echoed again, louder, shaking the walls to their foundations.
In the corridor ahead, a group of guards blocked his path. One of them, a woman wielding a chain engulfed in fire, spotted him immediately.
"Don't let him escape!" she shouted, her voice filled with desperation.
The fiery chain lashed out, slicing through the air toward Takeshi. He dodged, reinforcing his legs to propel himself out of range. With a swift motion, he extended his hand and unleashed a pulse of energy that sent the guards staggering.
He closed the distance in an instant. His blades moved in a deadly dance, slicing through armor and flesh with precision. Each movement was decisive, each attack fatal. The fiery chain wielder fell last, her weapon clattering to the ground as Takeshi's blade pierced her chest.
Ahead, he saw a massive fissure in the outer wall, created by the dragon's relentless assault. Beyond it lay the open wilderness, illuminated by the fiery glow of the collapsing prison. The frigid wind bit at his face as he stepped closer, but the cold didn't faze him.
Pulling the hood of his winter suit over his head, Takeshi glanced back at the smoldering ruins.
"This is only the beginning," he whispered, disappearing into the night.