hollow, echoing sound that reverberated through the stone walls. "You think you will transcend? You think immortality will The The final ritual had begun.
Shree Yan stood alone in the center of the ancient temple, the stone floor beneath him cold and unforgiving. The air was thick with the remnants of forgotten rites, and the dark energy of the Abyss surrounded him, pressing in from all sides. It was here that he would complete his ascension. The final step that would grant him the immortality he so desperately sought.
But even as the ritual began, something shifted within him. A subtle unease, a feeling he could not shake, crept into his heart. For the first time in a long while, Shree Yan felt a flicker of doubt. It was not fear—not regret—but something far more insidious. Something that felt like... recognition.
He had heard the whispers before. The voices of those he had wronged. Shidhara. Kiran. Suman. They were always there, lingering at the edges of his consciousness, reminding him of everything he had abandoned. The voices were growing louder now, pushing against the darkness he had surrounded himself with.
"Shree Yan..." Shidhara's voice echoed in his mind, a soft, pleading whisper. "Is this truly what you want?"
He clenched his fists, trying to block her voice out. "I have made my choice."
But even as he spoke, he knew the truth. He was no longer the person he had once been. Immortality would not free him from the pain of his past. It would only bind him to it, forever.
The ritual continued, the dark energy swirling around him, suffocating him. And yet, as the final steps of the ascension neared, Shree Yan felt himself faltering. Not in fear, but in something much deeper—a yearning for something he had long since discarded: connection.
But it was too late.
The abyss had claimed him.
And he, Shree Yan, the Immortal King, was lost forever.