The Path Chosen
The weight of the entity's words pressed upon Ryn like an iron shackle. Claim his place in the cycle? Or shatter it? The abyss within him pulsed, urging him forward, yet a lingering doubt gnawed at the edges of his mind.
The hooded figure's grip on the protective engravings tightened. "Kid, don't answer it!" he hissed. "We don't know what kind of contract this thing operates by. A single word could bind you to forces beyond comprehension."
The stranger, however, smirked. "Or it could grant him something no one else has ever wielded. Sometimes you have to risk everything to break through."
Ryn exhaled slowly. The shifting runes on his arms glowed brighter, echoing the patterns on the entity's form. He could feel its presence pushing against his mind—not as an invader, but as a gate left ajar, waiting for him to step through.
"What do you mean by 'claim my place'?" he finally asked, his voice steady but laced with caution.
The entity's shifting form quivered, and in an instant, the cavern changed. The walls vanished, replaced by an endless void filled with inscriptions—some he recognized, others that should not exist. It was as though he had been thrust into the very fabric of an ancient, forgotten system.
_The cycle governs all. Those who walk its path shape the world, inscribe its fate._
Symbols swirled around Ryn, each pulsing with power. He could feel his own engravings responding, shifting in resonance.
_You are not whole. You are a fragment of what was, scattered across time._
A jolt ran through Ryn's body. The abyss inside him trembled, as if recalling something long buried.
The stranger took a step closer. "Seems like you're part of something much bigger than you thought. The question is—do you accept it?"
The hooded figure's expression darkened. "Or do you fight it?" His voice was strained, as if he was resisting an unseen force. "Not everything written must remain. Some inscriptions… should be erased."
Ryn clenched his fists. He stood at the precipice of something beyond his understanding, yet undeniably tied to his very existence.
_The choice is yours._
The weight of the unseen choice bore down on Ryn. The void around him churned with countless inscriptions, threads of fate waiting to be grasped or severed. He could feel the abyss within him urging him forward, demanding he take his place in the cycle. But was it his choice, or had this decision been inscribed long before he was even born?
The entity's shifting form pulsed with expectation. _Claim your place. Accept your inscription._
The hooded figure's voice was sharp. "Kid, think carefully. This is not a power freely given—it's a leash, no matter how gilded."
The stranger grinned. "And yet, power is power. What use is hesitation when the world moves without you?"
Ryn closed his eyes. His mind swirled with possibilities. If he stepped forward, he might unlock knowledge no mortal had ever touched. If he resisted, he risked losing something crucial, something integral to understanding his very existence.
His engravings burned against his skin, as if demanding an answer. To accept meant to embrace what he was meant to be. To reject meant carving his own fate.
Ryn exhaled and stepped forward.
The entity trembled, its form breaking apart into shifting symbols that rushed toward him. The moment they touched his skin, he felt his mind pulled into the depths of something far greater than himself. Visions of forgotten ages, of endless cycles of creation and destruction, filled his consciousness.
_You have chosen._
The cavern snapped back into focus. Ryn staggered, gasping for breath. His engravings had changed—new inscriptions burned into his flesh, deeper, more intricate, as if layers of reality had rewritten themselves within him.
The hooded figure swore under his breath. "You've bound yourself to something we don't understand."
The stranger only laughed. "Or maybe he's just taken the first step toward becoming something greater."
Ryn steadied himself. Whatever he had just done, there was no turning back now. The cycle had shifted, and his path had been chosen.
The cavern trembled as Ryn steadied himself, his breath ragged. His body burned with an unfamiliar intensity, the newly inscribed engravings searing into his flesh like molten brands. He could feel them, shifting beneath his skin—not as inert markings, but as something alive. Power hummed at his fingertips, yet it was raw, chaotic, and unpredictable.
The hooded figure took a cautious step back. His eyes, usually filled with indifference, now bore a glimmer of concern. "You've done something irreversible," he muttered. "The engravings on you... they aren't ordinary. They're not just augmentations."
The stranger chuckled, his expression one of amusement. "And that's exactly why this is interesting."
Ryn clenched his fists, inhaling deeply. He needed control. The abyss within him stirred, eager to test the newfound power, to break past its shackles. But instincts warned him—acting recklessly could consume him entirely.
"Tell me what's changed," he said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him.
The hooded figure hesitated before responding. "Your inscriptions—" He gestured at Ryn's arms, where the symbols had embedded themselves into his very being. "They aren't behaving like standard engravings. Normally, inscriptions bind to a user's essence in a structured form, governing abilities through predefined pathways. But yours..."
He paused, searching for the right words. "They're adapting. Rewriting themselves even as we speak. It's as if they're... absorbing something."
Ryn narrowed his eyes. He could feel it. The engravings weren't just etched into him—they were feeding, drawing upon something deep within. He lifted his hand, focusing on the shifting runes. A single thought crossed his mind.
_What if I push them further?_
A pulse of energy surged outward. The engravings flared, their patterns twisting into new formations. A ripple spread through the air, warping the very space around him.
The entity's voice, now distant but ever-present, echoed once more.
_You walk the path of the Unwritten. The cycle trembles._
The cavern walls shuddered. Symbols carved into the stone began unraveling, breaking apart, as if reality itself was rejecting Ryn's existence.
The hooded figure swore under his breath. "This isn't just a power surge. You're disrupting the natural inscriptions of this place!"
The stranger grinned, stepping forward. "And that means he's doing something right."
Before Ryn could react, the cavern collapsed inward. A great force erupted, hurling the three of them into the abyss below.