Thronebreaker: The One Who Devours Names-Chapter 38: The Price of Power

Raen's breath hitched as the silence stretched on, suffocating him in its weight. The world was still—too still—and he felt an eerie stillness in his bones. It was as if time itself had frozen, leaving him stranded in a void where nothing existed but the crushing sense of emptiness.

But then... he felt it.

A presence.

It wasn't physical, not in the way he was used to. It was deeper, more insidious—a gnawing feeling that crawled under his skin and twisted around his thoughts. It felt like something was pressing in from every direction, tightening its grip around him. But it wasn't the darkness. No, this was something far more terrifying.

Raen's hands trembled, and his heart began to race. His Shatterborn powers flickered weakly within him, as though even they were reluctant to respond in the face of this new threat. For the first time since his descent into the abyss, Raen felt powerless.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, his mind frantically scrambling for any means of escape. But the longer he remained in that silence, the more he could feel it—a presence that wasn't just in the air around him. It was inside him.

Lyra.

The thought pierced his mind like a shard of glass. Her smile. Her words.

"You've always been mine."

Raen clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together. He refused to believe it. This wasn't her. This wasn't the Lyra he had fought for, the Lyra who had shared his burdens and his soul. What was this thing that had taken her place?

"No," he muttered, shaking his head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. "I won't let you—"

The world around him shattered.

The ground beneath his feet fractured with a deafening crack, splitting wide open. Dark tendrils of shadow reached up from the depths, writhing and twisting as though they had a mind of their own. They coiled around his legs, pulling him down into the abyss. Raen staggered, trying to break free, but the shadows were relentless. They tightened around him, dragging him closer to the yawning chasm below.

He fought against them, using every ounce of strength he had, but they were too strong—too overwhelming. His power, his will, all seemed to be nothing against the weight of the darkness that encased him. The more he struggled, the more it felt as though the shadows were feeding on him, growing stronger with every movement he made.

But just as the tendrils began to pull him under, a flash of light pierced through the darkness, blinding Raen for a split second.

He gasped as the light seared into his very soul, its brilliance cutting through the shadows with an intensity that made the abyss itself recoil. The tendrils withdrew, pulling back as the light expanded outward, dissolving the darkness in its wake.

Raen blinked, his vision still blurry from the afterimage of the light. As his senses cleared, he saw a figure standing before him.

It was Lyra.

But this wasn't the twisted version he had seen moments ago. This was the Lyra he remembered—the Lyra with the same fire in her eyes, the same warmth in her smile. But something had changed. There was a faint aura of power surrounding her, an energy that crackled in the air, suffusing her with an almost godlike presence.

Raen staggered back, eyes wide in disbelief. "Lyra... What... what is this?"

Lyra's expression was unreadable. Her lips were set in a grim line, and the air around her seemed to hum with an intensity that made Raen uneasy. She extended a hand toward him, but it wasn't a gesture of comfort—it was a command.

"You need to listen to me, Raen," she said, her voice low and measured. "This power... it's not something you can control. You've been trying to defy the inevitable, but this... this is the price of your power. The price of the Shatterborn."

Raen's pulse quickened. He had heard whispers of it, of course—of the forbidden magic that came with the Shatterborn bloodline. But he had never truly understood what it meant. What it cost.

"The gods... they marked you for a reason," Lyra continued, her gaze unwavering. "You think you're free, that you've chosen your path, but you haven't. You've been shackled since the day you were born."

"No," Raen rasped, shaking his head furiously. "I... I'm not shackled. I've made my own choices! I'm free!"

Lyra's expression softened for a moment, but the sadness in her eyes was unmistakable. "Raen... you've always had a choice. But now, the choice is no longer yours."

Before he could respond, a powerful wave of energy washed over them, ripping through the air like a storm. The ground shook beneath their feet, and the shadows in the distance began to stir once again, gathering in the corners of Raen's vision.

"You cannot escape it," Lyra said quietly, her voice barely audible above the chaos. "This world was never meant to be yours. And neither was she."

Raen's eyes widened, and for the first time, doubt crept into his heart. Lyra? Was she talking about... her?

The shadows began to move with purpose now, swirling around them like a storm. The very air seemed to crackle with danger as the world itself trembled beneath the weight of something immense. Raen's heart pounded in his chest as he realized that whatever was coming was beyond anything he had ever faced.

And then, in the distance, Raen saw it—a figure cloaked in darkness, its outline barely visible against the shifting blackness. It was approaching, and its presence made the very air feel heavy, as though it was pressing in on him from all sides.

Lyra's voice was barely a whisper as she spoke once more.

"Raen... you're about to meet the true enemy."

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The figure in the distance stepped forward, revealing itself in its full, horrifying form. It was towering, monstrous, its features indistinct but clearly hostile. Its aura of power was suffocating, and with each step it took, the ground beneath them seemed to tremble.

Raen's breath hitched. He could feel the overwhelming weight of the figure's power, the sense of inevitability that came with it.

The true enemy had arrived.