The Obsidian Palace was not designed for comfort; it was designed for intimidation. The hallways were lined with statues of past conquerors, and the floors were polished black marble that reflected the torches like dark water.
The young man walked down the corridor, flanked by what felt less like an escort and more like a royal harem guard.
To his left was Empress Seraphina. She had changed into a formal evening gown of deep crimson, the silk clinging to her curves in a way that made the passing guards stare at the floor in terrified respect. To his right were the Princesses, Briar, strutting with a warrior's gait in a sleek dress that barely hid her muscles, and Lyra, behind him, clutching her grimoire like a shield.
the young man himself had been dressed in the finest royal attire: a high-collared black tunic with silver threading. It fit his lean, powerful frame perfectly. He felt like a doll that had been dressed up, but he remained silent. His mind was too busy trying to piece together the fractured shards of his memory.
Chains, he thought, rubbing his chest. Why do i hear chains?
"Chin up," Seraphina whispered, leaning close enough that he could smell her perfume, roses and iron. "The Emperors are not as... physically aggressive as Ancestor Dragon. But they will try to dissect you with words. Do not show weakness."
"I have no weakness to show," the young man replied, his voice calm. "I have no memories. I am a blank slate."
"That is what worries me," Lyra murmured from his right. "Blank slates can be written on by anyone."
They reached the massive double doors of the Grand Dining Hall. The guards threw them open, and the group stepped inside.
The hall was cavernous, lit by floating chandeliers of magical fire. At the far end, sitting at a table long enough to seat fifty men, sat the two Emperors of the Human Continent.
On the left was Emperor Thorn, Briar's father. He was a middle-aged a man, with a beard like a lion's mane but red and scars running down his arms. He wasn't eating; he was sharpening a steak knife with a manic grin, a bit different from before the arena, no one know's what's going through his mind.
On the right was Emperor Kael, Lyra's father. He was slender, sharp-featured, and radiated a cold, intellectual aura. He was reading a scroll while cutting his meat with telekinesis. He wasn't as lackluster before, He seems to be thinking about the future, about what to do next.
"So," Thorn boomed, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. "The 'God' arrives. He looks skinny."
"He survived a flick from Ancestor Dragon." Briar snapped, stepping forward protectively. "He is durable."
"Durability does not equal use," Kael remarked without looking up from his scroll. "A rock is durable but that does not make it a King, We are making a gamble here , he must be of use to us if we're going to bear all this weight for him."
Seraphina guided Nyx to the chair at the head of the table, a seat usually reserved for visiting dignitaries or the rulers themselves. She sat to his immediate right, signaling her claim.
"Eat," Seraphina commanded softly, placing a goblet of wine in front of the young man.
He looked at the food. Roast boar, exotic fruits, glowing wines. His stomach growled, a very mortal sound that made Kael snort with laughter.
"He eats like a man!" Thorn slammed his fist on the table. "Good! I don't trust people who don't eat."
"We need a name," Kael said, finally rolling up his scroll. He looked at the young man with eyes that glowed with blue mana. "We cannot keep calling you 'The Stranger' or 'The Fallen God'. It is messy for the official records. Who are you?"
The table fell silent. All eyes turned to the young man.
He stared into his wine goblet in front of him. The dark red liquid swirled, reflecting the chandelier light. He tried to reach back into his mind, past the fog, past the pain. He found nothing but an endless, consuming darkness. A void that wanted to eat the world.
He looked up, his golden eyes locking with Kael's blue ones.
"Nyx," he stated.
"Nyx?" Briar tilted her head. "Like... the night?"
"It is the only thing I see when I close my eyes," Nyx said simply. "Endless night."
"A bit dramatic," Thorn sneered, "but it has a ring to it. Very well. Nyx."
Kael pushed his glasses up his nose. "Now that we have a label for the specimen, let us determine its value. Lyra, bring the Soul Sphere."
Lyra hesitated. "Father, he just woke up. His channels are-"
"Now, Lyra."
The Princess bit her lip but obeyed. She waved her hand, and a crystal sphere the size of a melon floated from her bag to the center of the table. It was clear and flawless.
"This is a standard aptitude test," Kael explained, his tone clinical. "Place your hand on the sphere. If you have mana, it will glow. The color determines your affinity. Red for Fire, Blue for Water, Gold for Light."
"And if I have no mana?" Nyx asked.
"Then it will remain clear," Thorne said. "And you will be confirmed as a cripple. A handsome cripple, perhaps, but a cripple nonetheless."
The tension in the room spiked. Seraphina gripped the tablecloth. She knew that if Nyx was proven to be powerless, the political pressure to hand him over to the Elves or Dragons would increase. Emperor Thorn and Kael didn't keep useless pets.
Nyx stood up. He walked to the center of the table. The sphere hummed, waiting.
He reached out.
Clang.
Deep inside him, the Fist Shackle vibrated. It sensed the magical energy in the sphere. It sensed... food.
Nyx's hand touched the glass.
For a second, nothing happened.
"Clear," Thorn sighed, looking disappointed. "A dud. Shame. I wanted to spar."
"Wait," Lyra whispered, her eyes widening, "Look closer."
It wasn't staying clear.
Inside the sphere, a tiny black dot appeared. It wasn't ink, it was an absence of light.
The dot spun. It grew.
Suddenly, the torches on the walls flickered. The magical chandeliers dimmed.
"What is happening?" Seraphina stood up, sensing a drain on her own mana.
The black dot inside the sphere expanded violently, swirling like a miniature tornado. But instead of emitting light, it began to suck the light out of the room.
The crystal sphere turned pitch black. Then, cracks began to form on the surface.
Hunger, Nyx thought. The feeling wasn't coming from his stomach; it was coming from his soul. His hand was glued to the sphere. He felt a rush of energy flooding into him, not storing in a core, but vanishing into an infinite abyss inside his chest.
"He's... he's absorbing the ambient mana!" Kael shouted, losing his composure. "He's draining the room! Pull him off!"
"I can't!" Nyx gritted his teeth. "It won't stop!"
The sphere began to vibrate with a terrifying hum.
CRACK.
The sphere didn't just break; it imploded. It shattered into dust, and for a split second, a miniature Void Rift, identical to the one in the sky, opened in the palm of Nyx's hand.
The rift sucked in the air, the light, and the sound of the room. The steak knives rattled. The wine in the goblets lifted into the air and was pulled toward Nyx.
"Get down!" Thorn roared, flipping the massive heavy table over to use as a shield.
Seraphina grabbed Nyx by the shoulders and yanked him back. "Nyx! Control it! Stop!"
Her voice cut through the hunger. Nyx gasped, clenching his fist.
Clang.
The shackle tightened. The rift snapped shut.
The room plunged into darkness for a second before the torches flickered back to life, dim and weak.
Silence. Absolute, terrified silence.
The Emperors peeked over the overturned table. The expensive crystal sphere was gone, erased from existence.
Nyx stood there, his chest heaving. He looked at his hand. He didn't feel weak anymore. He felt... energized. He had eaten the magic of the sphere.
Thorn slowly stood up, brushing food off his robes. His eyes were wide, the analytical calculation gone, replaced by pure shock, and desire.
"That... that was not an affinity," Kael whispered. "That was not Fire or Water."
"What was it, Father?" Lyra asked, her voice trembling.
Kael looked at Nyx with a mixture of horror, desire and scientific fascination.
"Everyone else in this world is a Star," Kael said. "We shine. We give off energy."
He pointed a shaking finger at Nyx.
"He is a Black Hole. He does not cultivate. He devours."
Thorn laughed. It was a nervous, excited sound. "A Mana Eater? By the Gods. If we point him at a mage army, he'll drink them dry!"
"Or he'll drink us dry," Seraphina said, stepping closer to Nyx, her hand resting on his arm again. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with a new intensity. The danger didn't scare her. It intoxicated her.
"He is dangerous," Seraphina declared. "And that is exactly why we must keep him."
Nyx looked at his hand. He clenched his fist. For the first time since waking up, he didn't feel helpless. He felt the echo of the power he used to have.
He looked at the Triumvirate, the two Emperors and the Empress, staring at him not as a cripple, but as a weapon of mass destruction.
"My name is Nyx," he said, his voice stronger now. "And I am hungry."
But amidst all of this, from the corner of the room. from the shadows that covers the whole room now, A deep blood like red pair of eyes could be seen.
They're locked onto the back of Nyx, who displayed a power no mortal could imagine.
"Interesting" Lilith whispered away disappearing into the shadows back again.