Aetheron stepped forward, his boots echoing in the vast chamber. The throne of shifting energy pulsed before him, its form constantly twisting between solid and ethereal.
And seated upon it—the figure wrapped in shadows.
Their presence was different. Heavy. Ancient. Like the weight of countless forgotten histories pressed into one being.
Aetheron's instincts flared.
This was no ordinary opponent.
"You have walked far, Aetheron," the figure said, their voice neither deep nor soft. Just... everywhere."And now you stand before the threshold."
Aetheron tilted his head. "Yeah? And what's on the other side?"
A pause.
Then—the figure lifted their hand.
The chamber darkened.
And then—
The attack came.
Shadow's Embrace
Aetheron barely saw it coming.
One moment, the figure was seated. The next—the entire chamber moved.
Black tendrils burst from the walls, the floor, even from the air itself.
They struck like whips of pure nothingness, aiming for his limbs, his throat, his chest—
Aetheron twisted, dodging the first wave. Barely.
A tendril grazed his arm.
Instantly—numbness.
Not pain. Not injury. Just absence.
His left arm refused to move.
"Great."
Aetheron spun, igniting his Dominion. Lightning crackled, burning away the shadows clinging to him. The moment his arm was free, he charged.
Straight for the throne.
Straight for the figure.
But as he moved—
They moved too.
Aetheron vs. the Sovereign's Echo
The figure didn't fight like a person.
They didn't throw punches. They didn't block or dodge.
They simply shifted.
Like a ghost.
Every time Aetheron swung, his attacks passed through air.
And every time he stopped, they struck back.
Not with fists.
But with absence.
Aetheron dodged left—his right leg lost feeling.
He ducked under a tendril—his sight blurred.
He countered with a Dominion blast—the energy vanished before impact.
Nothing was working.
The figure finally spoke.
"You wield power well. But power alone is not enough."
Aetheron gritted his teeth.
He hated this type of fight.
The kind where brute strength meant nothing.
The kind that required... understanding.
Fine.
If his Dominion couldn't destroy the shadows—
He'd have to do something else.
Rewriting the Rules
Aetheron took a breath.
The next moment, he stopped attacking.
The shadows surged.
Instead of dodging—he let them come.
The tendrils coiled around his arm, his legs, his torso—pulling him in.
And then—
Aetheron reached out.
Not physically.
With his Dominion.
He focused. Not on destruction. Not on power.
But on understanding.
And suddenly—
He felt it.
The shadows weren't just energy.
They weren't just an attack.
They were a part of something bigger.
A law. A concept.
They weren't consuming him.
They were waiting.
Waiting for him to acknowledge them.
Aetheron's lips curled.
"Alright, then."
And instead of resisting—
He accepted.
The Shift
The moment he did—everything changed.
The shadows no longer bound him.
They became his.
Aetheron moved—and the darkness moved with him.
The throne room trembled.
The figure on the throne tilted their head. "Ah... so you see it now."
Aetheron rolled his shoulders, shadows curling around his hands like gloves.
"Took me a second."
The figure stood.
For the first time.
And suddenly—
Aetheron knew.
This wasn't just a test.
This was a challenge.
The air cracked.
And then—
They clashed.
The Final Trial
The throne chamber shook.
Darkness met darkness.
Aetheron moved—faster than ever before.
He struck—his fist wrapped in shadow, meeting the figure's palm.
For the first time—they didn't phase through it.
They blocked.
The impact sent a shockwave through the void.
And then the real fight began.
Strike After Strike
They moved like mirrored images.
Aetheron attacked—the figure countered.
The figure struck—Aetheron redirected.
Every move was precise. Calculated. Deadly.
And yet—
Aetheron was keeping up.
For the first time, the figure spoke mid-battle.
"You understand now."
Aetheron exhaled. "Yeah."
And then—he changed his approach.
Instead of countering—he pressed forward.
Instead of dodging—he overwhelmed.
The shadows wrapped around his limbs, extending his strikes.
A punch became a lance.
A dodge became a teleport.
Every movement—seamless.
The figure stumbled.
And Aetheron didn't stop.
The Ending Blow
He struck—one final time.
The impact resounded through the chamber.
The figure froze.
And then—
They smiled.
"Good."
Their form began to dissolve.
Not in defeat.
But in completion.
"You are ready."
The chamber shattered.
And Aetheron was left standing—
Alone.
The Aftermath
Aetheron opened his eyes.
He was no longer in the throne room.
No longer in the test.
He was back.
Back in reality.
The Dominion around him felt different.
Stronger. Deeper.
Like it had reached another level.
He flexed his fingers.
Dark energy coiled around them—obedient, familiar.
Aetheron smirked.
"Yeah. This'll do."
And then—
He stepped forward.
The real fight was only beginning.