Aetheron's gaze locked onto the twisted reflection before him. It wasn't just a warped version of himself—it felt alive.
Its grin widened, eyes glowing with eerie amusement. "You see it, don't you?" it whispered. "The truth of what you are becoming."
Aetheron didn't move. He could feel something pulling at him, a force deeper than just power.
The cloaked figure beside him remained still. "This is the crossroads, Aetheron. You are no longer just a Devourer. You are something… more."
Aetheron narrowed his eyes. "More? Or something worse?"
The twisted reflection laughed.
"That depends on you."
The Dominion's Whisper
Aetheron's body tensed. The air around him was shifting, warping. His Dominion—it was reacting to this place, to this moment.
He felt a deep pull, like something buried inside him was trying to wake up.
His own voice, but not his own, echoed in his head.
"Take it."
The twisted reflection stepped forward. "You've always taken what you wanted. What's stopping you now?"
Aetheron's breath came slow, steady. His fingers twitched at his side. This was a trap.
The figure in the cloak finally spoke again. "Power without understanding is destruction. Choose wisely, Aetheron."
Aetheron looked at his reflection.
It was still smiling.
The Devourer's Choice
Aetheron moved.
Not toward the reflection—but past it.
In a flash, his Dominion flared, an unseen force tearing the reflection apart. The twisted version of himself shattered, breaking into streams of energy.
The room shook.
The hooded figure let out a low chuckle. "Interesting."
Aetheron exhaled slowly. "I don't need a distorted version of myself telling me what I already know."
He turned to face the figure directly. "Now tell me. What's next?"
The figure was silent for a moment. Then, they raised a hand.
The space around Aetheron twisted again.
The walls, the floor—everything vanished.
And then—
The Forgotten Battlefield
Aetheron stood in the middle of a ruined battlefield.
The ground was cracked, littered with weapons and bones. The sky above was dark, heavy with swirling clouds.
Aetheron's fingers twitched. This place… felt familiar.
Then he saw them.
Figures. Dozens of them.
Some were knights, others sorcerers, some… even monsters.
All of them had fallen.
And in the center—
A throne, broken and covered in dust.
Aetheron took a step forward, but his breath hitched.
Because at the base of that throne—
A man lay slumped forward, his armor shattered, his blade buried in the ground beside him.
Aetheron knew that armor.
Knew that face.
His chest tightened.
"The Sovereign…"
The realization hit him like a blade to the gut.
This was where it happened.
This was where the Sovereign fell.
And this…
This was the battle he had failed to win.
Aetheron's Destiny
The hooded figure appeared beside him. "This is your answer."
Aetheron's fists clenched. "What do you mean?"
The figure's voice was calm. "The Sovereign could not stop what was coming. That is why he chose you."
Aetheron's breath was unsteady. His fingers twitched at his side. "You mean…"
The figure nodded. "You were never just given power, Aetheron. You were given a purpose."
Aetheron turned back to the battlefield, his eyes lingering on the fallen Sovereign.
The weight of it settled in his chest.
This wasn't just about his own power.
This was about finishing what had been left undone.
He exhaled slowly.
The path was clearer now.
But that didn't mean it was any less dangerous.