Aelric stared at the end, feeling its pull deep within his bones. He could refuse. He could turn back, and retain his current self. But survival in the Abyss did not reward restraint.
Without hesitation, he reached out and seized the shard. The world shattered for an eternity beyond time, and Aelric plunged through the memories of the dead.
He saw civilizations rise and fall, demons created and destroyed, horrors birthday in the dark that even the Abyss itself feared.
He saw the faces of the beings called Flesh Architects, twisted beings of impossible forms. Who crafted the prison realms of the Abyss, binding endless souls into eternal torment.
And then, he saw himself. A figure standing in ruins, cloaked in chains and crimson hunger, ruling over a throne of writing shadows.
When Aelric finally woke he was on his knees at the altar, making rising from his skin. His veins burned with a new but alien energy. His mind teetered on the edge of madness. But it was his madness. And his to control.
[Skill gained] said the Voice of the Abyss, its voice returned to its normal.
[Soul Rend: Passive ability. Exposure to Aelric's presence weakness enemy spiritual defenses.]
Slowly, he stood. The mist above receded. The Whispers faded. The echoes of the Abyss now sang for him rather than against him.
His path lay forward, deeper into this cursed world. Towards the architect of his prison. Towards his future. Aelric smiled a slow, terrible smile.
The Abyss had shown him its horrors. Now it was time for the Abyss to taste his. Tunnels beyond the altar had changed.
The air was heavier, thick with the iron scent of blood and something older, decay wrapped in the cold bite of ancient malice.
Aelric moved with caution, his crimson eyes adjusting quickly to the shifting gloom. The Whispers of the soul remnants had lessened, but their residue clung to his mind like a second skin, a background static he could not entirely shake off.
Each step he took resonated through the stone beneath his boots. The Abyss had become more aware of him.
The path narrowed, forcing him through a broken arch of fused bone and petrified flesh. Beyond it lay a chamber, unlike the others. It was vast and circular, carved meticulously.
The walls were lined with crude carvings of beings so monstrous their forms defied logic. At the chamber's center was a single figure.
Bound in chains of tarnished silver and blackened iron, suspended above a pair of swirling shadows, a demon dangled like a broken marionette.
Her body was slim, almost human at a glance, but the longer Aelric stared, the more wrong she appeared. Her limbs were too long, too flexible. Horns curled back from her forehead, dark as obsidian, and her skin shimmered with an oily sheen, shifting subtly in color and texture like living mercury.
Her eyes snapped open as he entered, glowing an enchanting violet. She smiled.
"Another wrench drew in by promises he doesn't understand," she cooed her voice a silent whisper that ripples the stagnant air. "Or perhaps something more interesting?"
Aelric remained silent, his gaze shrp. The Voice of the Abyss stirred to life inside him, saying.
[Warning. High-level entity detected: Classification: Trickster Demon. Cognitive manipulation potential: Severe. Recommendation: Immediate termination or extreme caution.]
The demon…no, the creature tilted her head. The chains binding her wrists and ankles groaned with the motion.
"I am Veyra," she purred. "Bound here for…oh, longer than you could imagine. By those who feared my knowledge." Her lips curled into a smirk, revealing sharp, pearlescent teeth. "And you, my little predator…you seek truths, don't you? About who is this so-called Flesh Architect. About the Abyss. And About your purpose here."
The sound of her words twisted in the air, her voice was very enchanting, like an irresistible pull curling at the edges of his mind. Promises of answers. And power comes with those answers.
Aelric narrowed his eyes. Knows nothing is free and the price can be heavy but he still asks her. "What do you offer?"
Her chains jingled softly as she leaned forward, just enough to suggest subservience, a lie so thin it was almost insulting.
"I offer my guidance," she said, voice dripping honeyed venom. "Secrets you cannot pry loose alone. Maps through the twisted halls of your new kingdom to be. Knowledge of the Flesh Architects that even your precious Abyss hesitated to whisper."
She grinned wider. "But in exchange…you will give freedom. It is not unconditional, of course. I am not that foolish to offer anything free."
Aelric looked at her "I know that."
The voice of the Abyss hissed into his ear like a blade drawn against the stone.
[Warning. Trickster demons are genetically and metaphysically incapable of binding themselves to oaths without loopholes. Pact probability of betrayal: 91%.]
Aelric weighed the options quickly. Killing her was possible, perhaps even easy given her current state. But the information she hinted at was not something he could easily find again.
The Abyss was vast beyond comprehension. A map was worth the risk. But not without precautions. The chains in his forearms stirred.
Iron Bind flared to life of his call, ghostly chains slithering through the air like living things. Aelric extended his hand towards her.
"If you like," he said, voice like stone grinding on stone, "if you ever betray me, I will chain your would to the Abyss itself, where even oblivion will not reach you."
Veyra's grin faltered, a flicker of something real, something primal to all beings, crossed her features. Fear. It only lasted a moment before she bowed her head, the gesture mocking in its elegance.
"Agreed," as soon as she whispered, the Iron Bind chains lanced out, piercing her body at wrists, ankles, and throat. They glowed with an infernal crimson light, weaving through her being. Not just binding her flesh, but also her soul.
After chains all bound her, the chamber shuddered. The instant the pact was sealed, a pulse of energy exploded outwards from the pit below.