The Claim

The dim light of the room flickered, casting long shadows against the cold stone walls. The atmosphere was tight, and every intake heavy as smoke. Directly facing the protagonist was Korrin, whose form was so deep and commanding it seemed to have compressed the surrounding air around him.

Korrin's eyes—pale, cold, and calculating—converged with a disturbing inevitability upon the protagonist. "I came to claim what is mine, he repeated, his voice low and dripping with intent.

For a moment, the protagonist didn't move. The force of his heart beat against his chest, his thoughts racing to keep ahead of its implications. The Fragments were a source of untold power, and the moment Korrin spoke, it became clear—he was after them.

What. you saying that? The protagonist was, at last, able to speak, although in a croaky voice. In the hip, he discerned the feeling of the weight of Korrin's stare as a clamp on his breastbone (vertebrae).

Korrin's lips curled into a cold, predatory smile. "You've been meddling with things that were never meant for you. The Fragments are mine by right. You, little pawn, have no idea what you've unleashed."

The words hit like a slap. The protagonist had known there was something deeper to the Fragments—something ancient—but hearing Korrin claim ownership of them stoked the fire of his confusion and fear.

"I don't know what you're talking about, the protagonist muttered, his voice tinged with defiance, though the pit in his stomach told him otherwise. "I'm not just some pawn. These—these Fragments—they're part of something bigger, and I don't think you're the only one interested in them.

Korrin's chuckle was soft but chilling. "You think you're in control? That you can wield these forces without consequence? You're just a tool in a much larger game, and now, I've come to collect my prize.

Character instinctively grabbed at his abilities, the bizarre pieces of the lost knowledge dancing within his head, a weak, yet familiar buzzing beneath his skin. But there was an unease now—a realization that this was no longer just about power. Korrin was no ordinary player in this game.

"What's your connection to them? the protagonist demanded, his voice steadying despite the unease in his chest. "Why are you so sure they belong to you?"

Korrin's eyes narrowed, and for a fleeting second, a shadow of something darker passed through them. He moved closer then, his steps fluid, almost predatory. "Because I've been waiting. Waiting for the right time to claim them. And you, idiot, are the solution to open all of it up.

The protagonist's pulse quickened. "The key?"

Korrin nodded, as if savoring the moment before the truth would finally be revealed. "Yes. The Fragments are a jigsaw and you have been collecting the pieces, without even realizing it. They're bound to you, and you've already started the process of unlocking their full potential. However, what you do not recognize is that you are unable to control them. I can. And I will."

Suddenly, the temperature in the room dropped. The shadows that formed in the corners got deeper, they reached Korrin like a call from their dark depths. His aura, with an evil power, began to rise, permeating the room with a sense of crushing pressure.

"You've been warned, Korrin said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper now, but the power behind it was undeniable. "Give me the Fragments. Or I will take them from you."

The protagonist felt the weight of Korrin's threat settle over him like a cloak, and for a moment, he thought about fighting back. However, there was in Korrin's aura a primal and terrifying, that put the protagonist thinking and wondering, in this way. It wasn't just his words—it was the feeling that Korrin had seen it all, controlled it all, and was merely toying with him now.

"I won't give them to you, the protagonist said, his voice firm despite the rising fear. The Fragments were more than just power; they were the key to uncovering the truth about this world, about the hidden forces manipulating everything around him. He wasn't going to back down now.

Korrin's lips went up in a smile which did not go down to his eyes. "Very well," he said, his voice dripping with menace. "If you won't give them to me. I'll take them by force.

Before the protagonist could react, Korrin's hand shot out, and the air around them seemed to warp. A pulse of energy surged through the room, so intense that it sent the protagonist stumbling backward, barely managing to keep his footing. The walls around them seemed to vibrate, as if the very fabric of reality was bending under the pressure of Korrin's power.

The protagonist's mind raced. He could sense the Fragments inside of himself, vibrating in response to Korrin's powers. They were responding—perhaps reacting to the danger, or perhaps something deeper. But the connection was tenuous. He wanted to have more control, more understanding of what he had started.

"Enough," the protagonist spat, steeling himself. He reached inward, feeling the hum of the Fragments within him, trying to call upon their power. But it was still too volatile, too raw.

Korrin's eyes gleamed with amusement. "You're weak. But I'll let you have your moment. After all, it's your ignorance that makes you so. entertaining.

Suddenly, Korrin launched toward him, his movements a blur. The protagonist barely had time to react, dodging a strike that would have knocked him unconscious. As Korrin landed with unnerving grace, his gaze never left the protagonist's face.

"You can resist for now, Korrin said, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. "But you'll learn. They always learn."

The protagonist felt a flicker of determination. He wasn't going to let Korrin win. He wasn't going to let himself be manipulated by someone who saw him as nothing more than a tool. But Korrin was no ordinary threat. This was just the beginning. He needed to find a way to stand against him—and soon.

When the pressure in the room became too much to handle any longer, the protagonist thought very swiftly. There had to be something he could do. The Fragments were his, and if he was going to survive this, he would need to wield their power—not as a pawn, but as their rightful master.