The air was heavy with silence, broken only by the faint hum of Aether lingering in the aftermath of the battle. The remains of the skeletal adversaries lay scattered across the cracked obsidian floor, their dull bones now dusted with decay. Yet amidst the wreckage, faint glimmers of light pulsed—a sign of the Cores left behind, remnants of the energy that had once animated these beings.
He knelt slowly, his skeletal hands hovering over the nearest Core. It glowed faintly, a soft, pulsing light that seemed weaker than the one he had absorbed earlier. Cautiously, he touched it, and the now-familiar process began. The Core's energy surged into him, swirling like liquid fire through his skeletal structure. The sensation, though still dramatic, felt diluted compared to his earlier experiences. The boost it granted was minor—a faint reinforcement of his bones, a slight increase in his physical durability. Useful, but far from transformative.
Encouraged by the absence of catastrophic side effects, he moved to the second Core. Again, the energy flowed into him, this time even less potent. The faint glow of his bones brightened momentarily before fading, leaving him feeling slightly stronger but not significantly changed. The reinforcement was cumulative but incremental, the upgrades subtle and almost imperceptible.
Then he reached for the third Core. The moment his skeletal hand made contact, a surge of chaotic energy unlike anything before erupted into his being. It wasn't just a flow—it was a flood, a torrent of raw, untamed power that coursed through his skeletal frame with violent intensity. His bones began to glow with an eerie, pulsating light, but then the cracks started to form.
Hairline fractures spread across his arms and ribs, glowing with unstable energy. His skeletal form vibrated under the strain, each pulse of the Core's power threatening to shatter him entirely. A sharp, unbearable pain—something he didn't think he could feel as a skeleton—ripped through his very being. He collapsed to the ground, his bones clattering against the floor as he writhed in agony. The world around him blurred and darkened as the energy overtook him, threatening to tear him apart.
Core Overload. The thought pierced through the chaos in his mind, though he had no idea where the term came from. He hadn't even known such a phenomenon existed. Was there a limit to how much energy his form could absorb? And what would happen if he crossed that threshold?
The energy surged uncontrollably for what felt like an eternity before it began to stabilize, though the process left him weak and trembling. He lay sprawled on the ground, his glowing bones dimming as the chaotic energy settled into something more manageable. Yet even as his form began to stabilize, he realized the cost. His skeletal structure was reinforced, but cracks still lingered, a stark reminder of his recklessness.
In the midst of his recovery, a strange sensation overtook him. The world around him dimmed further, and his mind drifted into a haze. Memories—or perhaps visions—began to surface. They were fragmented and disjointed, like shards of a broken mirror.
He saw a grand chamber within the same dungeon, its obsidian walls adorned with glowing runes. A procession of skeletal figures, more orderly and regal than the ones he had fought, bowed before a towering presence cloaked in shadow and light. The figure radiated authority and power, and something about it felt... familiar.
The vision shifted. He saw himself—or someone who looked like him—standing amidst the procession, a sense of purpose emanating from his skeletal form. Then, just as quickly as the vision had appeared, it faded into nothingness, leaving only questions in its wake.
Was that him? Was that his past? Or was it some distant echo of a life he couldn't remember?
When he came to, the fourth Core still lay on the ground, glowing faintly in the dim light of the corridor. He stared at it, the memory of his recent ordeal fresh in his mind. A part of him was tempted to reach out, to grasp it and absorb its energy. But caution held him back. The third Core had nearly destroyed him. What would happen if he pushed his limits further?
He sat there for a long moment, his glowing sockets fixed on the Core. "Not yet," he thought to himself. Whatever he was, whatever he had been, he needed to understand more before taking another risk like that. For now, survival was his only goal.
Pushing himself to his feet, he left the Core untouched, vowing to return to it only when he was stronger—when he understood the true nature of this dungeon and the secrets buried within his fractured memories.