The beings that came through the tears in reality were unknown to Asher. They were not simply abominations of the dark or anger of the gods—these are not.
Their shapes changed erratically, curling in and out of shape, like a half-remembered bad dream. Arms stretched out and withdrew, faces formed where there were none, and their presence had the effect of making the air thicken, as if the weight of the universe was descending upon them.
Asher hardly had time to respond before the first one hit.
It traveled faster than light, but slower than time—a motion paradox. His instincts screamed, and he sidestepped by an eyelash, but even as he sidestepped, the creature was already beside him, its amorphous arms stretching and reforming into razor edges.
A void energy blade burst forth from his hand, and he struck. The blow landed—but rather than damaging the creature, it passed through it, like slicing through fog.
No consequence. No damage.
"What—?"
A voice crept into his mind, a wordless whisper speaking in terms he could not comprehend, yet somehow sensed. His vision became foggy.
"Asher!" Ardyn's voice just broke through the fog.
Asher had only just managed to glimpse another creature attacking him from behind. He spun, calling upon a spasm of raw void energy, but when it hit, the beast merely seemed to take it in, becoming more substantial, more real.
His heart was pounding.
These beasts did not merely exist outside of the province of nature's law. They were sustained by chaos. By disorder.
And he was powering them.
The Architect's voice rang out over the ever-changing void. "You wield power without understanding. You seek to mold reality without understanding its price."
Asher's teeth clenched as he sidestepped a flailing appendage. "You chatter too much," he growled, thinking frantically of a way out. Physical attacks were useless. Void energy powered them. What could he possibly use?
And then it hit him.
If all of this was being pulled to void power. if he ceased fighting as the void desired,
He blinked his eyes shut for a second, blocking himself off from everything—the whispers, the warping, the shifting battlefield. Rather than maintaining control of the abyss, he released it.
For the first time since surrendering to the darkness, Asher didn't struggle to restrain it. He denied it.
And the instant he did—
The beasts backed away.
They contracted, their bodies contorting, their limbless forms twisting in terror.
The void spurned them.
"Asher!" Ardyn shouted again, finally catching up to him. "Whatever you just did, do it again!"
Asher exhaled. His ability wasn't about summoning the void—it was about comprehending it. Mastering it.
And the greatest mastery wasn't in wielding power. It was in knowing when to restrain.
He opened his eyes. The black veins that had covered his skin retreated. The void energy that had wrapped around him like a second skin dissipated.
For an instant, he was almost. normal.
And the beasts screamed.
Their bodies trembled, collapsing, unable to hold cohesion without chaos. The fissures in reality started to mend, closing as the things dissolved into nothing.
The Architect remained motionless. "So. you learn."
Asher spun to confront them, eyes a cold silver. "I've always learned."
The Architect leaned their head to the side. "Then let us see if you are prepared for the next lesson."
And with a movement beyond human sight, the battlefield shifted once more.