Molten Rage

A wave of molten lava erupted from the ground, sweeping Revan off his feet and slamming him into the translucent Ether cage wall.

He crossed his arms just in time—white-silver Etherea flared to protect him, shielding his body from the searing heat. But the fire still licked at his skin, and the pressure burned through the barrier like a furnace.

Revan gritted his teeth. Pain was nothing. Not now. Something inside him snapped—flipped like a switch. A surge of raw instinct. Vaelgrim blood.

Without thinking, Revan lunged forward, white fire trailing from his limbs. He swung his sword with a ruthless arc, aiming straight for Richard's neck.

But Richard's hands ignited—instantly turning to lava. He caught the wooden blade mid-swing.

The impact cracked the air. The sword didn't break… not immediately.

But the heat began to eat through it, burning from the inside out. In seconds, flame licked along the edge—until the weapon crumbled in Revan's grip, reduced to charred splinters and falling ash.

Revan jumped back, still holding the hilt and blackened stump of what used to be a sword. Before him stood Richard—both arms ablaze with molten fury. His wooden warhammer had already disintegrated, reduced to nothing.

Revan looked at the smoking remains in his hand… then sighed, tossing them aside.

He raised his empty hands. "I guess this is my loss."

But Richard didn't lower his stance.

"I saw you two last night," he said suddenly.

Revan blinked. "What?"

"I saw you sneaking around. You… pulling her hand, acting like some kind of protector," Richard snarled. His voice was sharp now, bitter.

"We were just playing," Revan said calmly.

Richard's eyes burned brighter. "You've crossed the line."

His voice dropped cold and low.

"I'll be the one to punish you."

Without warning, Richard surged forward—his arms still blazing, dripping molten flame that sizzled with every step. There was no restraint now. No playfulness. This was fury, pure and unfiltered.

Revan's eyes widened. 'He's serious.'

The ground cracked beneath Richard's charge, molten footprints trailing in his wake. His right arm pulled back, ready to strike like a meteor.

Revan moved.

He ducked the first punch—lava whistled past his ear as he twisted sideways. He could feel the heat graze his skin.

A second blow came faster, low and sweeping. Revan jumped over it, barely clearing the molten trail it left in its wake.

He didn't have a weapon anymore. All he had was Etherea.

He exhaled, steadying himself mid-movement.

White-silver light flared across his arms—his coating reigniting with fresh energy. He focused it, condensed it, until it shimmered brighter along his fists and legs.

Richard lunged again, throwing a brutal punch toward Revan's chest.

Revan dropped low and slid beneath it, his momentum carrying him forward. As he passed Richard's side, he twisted and delivered a sharp elbow strike to the prince's ribs—his blow reinforced with focused Etherea.

Richard stumbled with a grunt, surprised at the force—but he didn't slow down.

He spun, slashing his lava-coated hand like a blade. Revan leaned back, the edge of Richard's attack just grazing his cheek—leaving behind a faint burn and a trail of smoke.

Revan's breath caught in his throat, but he didn't flinch.

No time to hesitate.

He darted in again, feinting a step to the left. Richard reacted—but too late. Revan had already moved right, circling behind him. With a burst of Etherea channeled into his legs, he leapt and spun mid-air, aiming a heel kick to Richard's back.

It connected.

A flash of light burst from the point of impact as Richard staggered forward, nearly losing his balance.

But the prince snarled and turned, both hands glowing hotter—brighter. He slammed both fists into the ground.

The earth erupted.

A geyser of lava burst upward beneath Revan's feet.

Too close!

Revan jumped—just in time. Etherea flared around his body, cushioning the blast as he was thrown back. He hit the wall of the Ether cage hard but landed on his feet, panting.

Ash and sparks danced around them. The training field looked like a battlefield now—scorched earth, fractured ground, and heat waves blurring the air.

Luna watched from the outside, both hands pressed to the barrier, her golden eyes wide with fear and awe.

Inside the cage, Revan wiped the sweat from his brow, eyes locked onto Richard.

He was exhausted. His Etherea was running low.

Richard growled. "just fall already."

He charged.

Richard closed the gap with terrifying speed, his fists twin infernos of molten rage. He wasn't holding back anymore—he was trying to end it.

Revan tried to dodge, but his body was slowing. The last dodge wasn't clean. A searing punch grazed his ribs—white-silver Etherea flared in defense, but it wasn't enough. He flew sideways, crashing against the wall of the Ether cage with a dull thud.

He hit the ground hard, breath knocked out of him.

The world spun.

His coating flickered, dimming.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he pushed himself up on shaky arms. One knee hit the dirt. His vision blurred.

Richard approached—lava still dripping from his fists like fury made flesh. "This is what happens when you pretend to be strong," he spat.

Revan looked up, eyes narrow, teeth clenched. His body refused to move.

"Get up," Richard growled. "Come on. Get up!"

Another strike landed—this time to Revan's side. The explosion of heat and force sent him skidding across the field, his back slamming against the wall again.

Soldiers outside the cage watched in frozen silence. Even Luna's scream was lost beyond the hum of the barrier.

Inside, Revan lay broken.

And in the silence… something cracked.

Not bone.

Not the Ether cage.

Something else.

A pressure deep inside him tore open—like a sealed door collapsing under its own weight. It wasn't like Etherea. It was colder. Heavier. Eternal.

And it spoke in silence.

A pulse rippled through his veins.

His eyes flared open—pure black for a moment, before a deep violet aura sparked around his body. The white-silver coating vanished, replaced by something… darker.

From the cracked earth beneath him, shadow rose—rippling strands of void swirling upward, wrapping his arms and chest like smoke with weight.

Richard froze.

"What… the hell is that?" he whispered.

Revan stood, his body surrounded by the pulsing rhythm of a new power—silent, but undeniable. His hair swayed as if moved by invisible tides.

The air grew heavy.

The Ether cage trembled.

Revan's hand transformed—inky black, rippling with a silent, smooth menace. It wasn't fire. It wasn't light. It was something deeper. Something ancient.

He stepped forward. Slow. Steady.

Richard gritted his teeth. With a roar, he thrust both lava-coated arms forward—sending twin torrents of molten lava surging straight at Revan.

Revan raised his blackened palm.

A pitch-black vortex shimmered into existence before him—silent and perfectly still.

The lava streams never reached him.

They bent mid-air, twisting unnaturally, and were swallowed whole by the void. Not a trace remained. Not a hiss. Not even heat.

Richard staggered back, eyes wide in disbelief.

Desperate, he lifted his arms to the sky—summoning more. Dozens of blazing lava fists formed above him, glowing hot and angry. He hurled them down like raining meteors, each one screaming through the air toward Revan.

Revan didn't stop walking.

The fiery projectiles hit him—and passed through him.

No collision. No resistance. They shattered against the translucent Ether cage behind him, splashing in sparks and steam.

The black vortex at Revan's palm began to swirl, tightening—condensing. A dense orb of Dark Matter formed, humming with pressure. Reality itself seemed to bend around it.

The air grew cold.

The soldiers watching outside snapped into action.

"Shut it down!" someone barked.

The Ether cage flickered—then vanished. Several soldiers leapt in, forming a defensive wall in front of Richard, weapons drawn and glowing with Etherea.

On the other side of the field, Luna charged toward Revan.

His body was coated in pure void—his eyes pitch-black, expression blank.

The Dark Matter sphere in his hand continued to pulse, growing heavier with each breath.

"Revan, stop!" Luna cried, her voice trembling. "You'll kill them!"

He didn't react.

Didn't even blink.

Luna reached him. She threw her arms around him from the side—her hands grasping his arm, her cheek against his shoulder.

"It's okay," she whispered, voice soft but steady. "The fight is over."

She pressed her hand to his chest.

"Come back."

His breath caught. The orb flickered.

Then—without sound—it vanished. Dissipated like mist. The darkness around Revan faded, retreating into his skin as if it had never been there.

His eyes fluttered.

Color returned to them—his heartbeat thundered in his ears.

He stared at his own hand, trembling slightly. Raised it slowly, studying the skin, the fingers, the emptiness.

"What… what was that?" he whispered.

Before he could say another word, Luna pulled him into a full embrace, arms tight around him.

Revan stood frozen, her warmth anchoring him.

The soldiers stood still. Silent. Watching.

And in the middle of the scorched training field, the wind whispered across ash and dust.

Something had awakened.