A surge of pure euphoria filled Thorne, every pulse of aether coursing through him, setting his veins ablaze with raw, untamed power.

  He felt invincible, as if he’d finally unlocked the truest, most boundless version of himself.

  Even Sid’s wounded form was a fading memory somewhere in the back of his mind, a distant concern he barely registered through the all-consuming thrill of his control over the aether. The nagging sense that there might be consequences for wielding this much energy, for allowing it to consume him, tugged faintly at his thoughts, but he brushed it off without hesitation.

  What could possibly go wrong when he was this powerful?

  Ahead of him, the aether beast reared back, its many heads twisting and writhing, four of them now lifeless, one from Sid’s blow, and three by his own hand. Ten heads remained, each a promise, a chance to test the full extent of his abilities.

  He smirked, delighted by the prospect. The beast’s furious roar echoed through the cliffs, and Thorne laughed in response, feeling a thrill at its rage. Silly creature, he thought, his eyes gleaming with pleasure. It has no idea who it’s up against.

  Thorne darted forward, barely touching the ground as he solidified the aether under his feet, creating swift, translucent platforms that propelled him forward. He gathered more aether as he moved, feeling its weight in his hands, shaping it into razor-thin crescent blades that gleamed like polished glass. With a flick of his wrists, he sent the blades whirling down toward the writhing mass of heads. They sliced through the air in blinding arcs, pure energy in motion.

  The beast writhed, trying to evade, but its sheer size slowed its movements. Two heads fell, severed cleanly as they flopped to the ground with agonized screams, sending glowing blood spilling across the earth. The remaining blades crashed into the ground around it, each impact creating a crater that sent tremors through the cliffside. Thorne grinned, watching as the creature struggled, his laughter mingling with its pained hisses. Eight more, he thought with a gleam of satisfaction.

  But the beast was far from finished. One of its heads slithered forward, hissing soundlessly before it unleashed a torrent of blazing aether breath. Thorne barely had time to react. He leaped back, flipping end over end, but the force of the attack knocked his aim askew. As he tried to conjure another platform beneath him, his focus slipped, and he missed. His heart jolted as he fell, the ground yawning below him. Panic clawed at his chest as he glimpsed a massive, gaping maw waiting to swallow him whole.

  In desperation, he threw out his hands, gathering every mote of aether he could feel around him, focusing on them with fierce intent. He compressed the motes, pulling them together with raw, frantic strength until they coalesced into a translucent platform beneath him. He hit the platform hard, the impact jarring him to his core, pain radiating up his spine. His control faltered for a split second, the aether buckling beneath him just as the beast’s jaws snapped inches from his feet, sending a gust of hot air up that whipped at his face.

  For a heartbeat, he hung there, the platform wavering under his weight, his pulse pounding in his ears. The pain had cut through the euphoria, leaving his thoughts tangled between exhilaration and something darker, an unsettling reminder of just how close he’d come to losing everything. His grip on the aether wavered, reminding him that his mastery was far from complete. But he clenched his fists, gritting his teeth against the pain, refusing to let go.

  No, he thought fiercely, pushing away the faint whisper of doubt. He was stronger than this, and he’d prove it. He let the thrill flood back in, brushing away the fear as he steeled himself to bring down the remaining heads.

  Thorne’s body ached from the crash, but the thrill of raw power bubbling inside him smothered any hint of caution. As he steadied himself on the aether platform, a hissing sound alerted him, and he twisted to see one of the beast’s heads snap forward, unleashing a searing blast of aether breath. He barely had time to react, flinging himself backward in a frantic leap, landing in a roll just as the blast seared the air where he’d stood.

  Heart hammering, Thorne sprang to his feet, bracing himself. His chest heaved, his veins pulsing with energy, and a wicked grin spread across his face. It doesn’t matter, he thought, feeling a dangerous thrill. I have all the power I need.

  Ignoring the sting in his ribs, he summoned more aether, gathering it with a sharp intake of breath. The energy crackled in his hands, morphing into irregular, shifting masses, as if the aether itself struggled to contain the force he poured into it. They didn’t settle into a simple sphere, but rather a rippling, volatile shape that flexed and pulsed in his grip, like energy barely bound to form.

  He raised his arm, his fingers tightening around the unstable energy, and hurled it forward. The mass shot through the air, twisting as it flew before slamming into one of the beast’s heads. The creature shrieked, its hide blackened and scorched where the energy had struck, the smell of burning flesh wafting up as the head thrashed, its jaws clamping in agony.

  Thorne’s grin widened. Without a moment’s hesitation, he called on more aether, feeling it surge to his command, reckless and eager, each sphere forming faster than the last. He darted across the platform, weaving effortlessly, his movements quick and fluid, exhilaration fueling every strike. As he moved, he flung the volatile energy masses with a flick of his wrists, each sphere bending and morphing with his movement, as though responding to his very thoughts.

  One sphere struck a head, slicing through flesh and bone before bursting in a shower of sparks. Another followed, its force snapping a second head sideways, leaving it lifeless and hanging as dark blood spilled to the ground below. The impact sent satisfying tremors through the cliffside, and Thorne laughed, intoxicated by the thrill of it all. I am unstoppable, he thought, feeling a heady sense of euphoria. This wasn’t a battle anymore; it was a game. A glorious, deadly game of power.

  He reached out for more aether, only to frown as the next sphere formed in his hand, noticeably smaller, its energy waning. He tried again, gathering with more focus, but the resulting mass felt weaker, less vibrant. Confused, he glanced around, his senses extending outward, and then he understood.

  The ambient aether, normally thick and teeming, had thinned to barely a whisper around him. Every sphere, every slice, every flash of energy he had summoned had drained the air around him. Even the wild wave of aether that had fed him through the fight was running dry, unable to keep up with his ravenous need.

  A flicker of frustration crossed his face, but then something caught his eye: thin tendrils of aether spilling from the beast’s many wounds. The shimmering essence leaked from its necks and torn flesh, shimmering like vapor as it drifted toward him. A twisted thought surfaced, and his pulse quickened. Could he? Could he pull from the beast itself, use its own energy against it?

  Stolen story; please report.

  A surge of satisfaction bloomed in his chest, the idea deliciously reckless. The creature was practically serving him its energy, helplessly bleeding aether into the air, and he could feel his power beckoning, urging him to claim it.

  But before he could act, the beast let out a guttural roar, and Thorne felt a sudden shift, a strong, familiar pull as the creature began siphoning aether from the air itself. His senses flared, recognizing the technique; it was the same maneuver the aether golem had used in an attempt to heal.

  Thorne chuckled low, an almost feral gleam in his eyes as he realized what was happening. “Silly creature,” he murmured, his tone mocking as he felt the aether around him shift, thinning even faster. “Oh, no, you don’t.”

  With a surge of defiance, he tightened his hold on the aether, forcing the wild motes around him to his will, tethering them even as they tried to drift toward the beast. He wasn’t just going to stop its attempt, he was going to turn its own energy against it, feeding on the very power it tried to steal.

  Ignoring the small voice at the back of his mind that cautioned him, he let himself fall into the thrill, the rush of raw aether as he prepared to make his next move. This was his moment, his battle, and nothing, not even the mighty beast before him, could take this power from him.

  Thorne’s smirk widened as he extended his arms, feeling the latent energy in the air respond to his silent call. The ambient aether, already weakened from the battle, trembled around him, yielding to his beckoning, coiling into a swirling stream that circled his core in a slow, ominous dance. He drew it in, letting it pool within him, every pulse of aether feeding the ravenous energy that burned hotter with each passing second.

  But it wasn’t enough. He could feel his core gnawing, insatiable, needing more. With a reckless surge of will, he siphoned the aether faster, pulling the energy closer, denser, a storm building within him that whipped his hair and clothes in a wild frenzy. The world around him blurred, swallowed by the violent, swirling maelstrom of aether that now surrounded him, a brilliant, ceaseless display of power. The rush of energy was a thrill he had never imagined, one that erased all else from his mind.

  More. He needed more.

  His gaze flicked to the creature, its wounds leaking aether in thin, glimmering streams. Thorne felt a new hunger bloom in his chest. Why settle for the raw aether in the air when he could take the beast’s essence itself? He reached out, drawing on the shimmering aether seeping from the creature’s injuries, draining it into the vortex that roared within him. The beast writhed, weakened as the thin trails of energy drifted toward Thorne, sinking into his core and stoking the inferno there. But even this was only a tease, a taste, his core demanded more.

  With a surge of determination, Thorne’s gaze fixed on the creature’s very body, its massive, shifting form of pure aether, a construct born of the wild aether wave itself. He felt the energy ripple beneath its scales, saw pieces of it pulse with a vibrant glow as though each piece held a heartbeat of its own. Thorne focused, his vision narrowing. He called, drawing on the creature’s very essence, tugging the aether from within it, watching in detached fascination as pieces of its flesh evaporated, dissipating in glimmering mist, surrendering to his will.

  In the back of his mind, a faint alarm flared. Chunks of the creature’s body were vanishing in response to his pull, yet he barely registered the sight, his whole being singularly focused on feeding his growing core. Yes. More. Give me more. The thrill, the surge of raw, endless power was all he could see, feel, crave. The sensation overwhelmed him, and for a second, he felt nearly godlike, his control absolute.

  But then, deep within him, his core faltered. It was only a moment, a barely perceptible stutter, but it was enough to send a shiver of exhilarated dread through him. His core rattled, trembling as though stretched beyond its limits. Thorne gritted his teeth, expecting pain, but none came. Instead, his core felt… hungry, voracious, like a creature of its own. He sensed it shifting, splintering, yet somehow expanding, a shiny new layer forming over the fractured parts, each one more resilient, more polished, gleaming like dark glass.

  A fierce, greedy thrill ran through him as the fractures in his core splintered further, each crack healing in turn, only to deepen anew, demanding more aether with every layer that formed. And with each transformation, each fresh layer, the hunger intensified, clawing at him from within, driving him to a desperation that bordered on madness.

  He needed more.

  More.

  More aether.

  More power.

  His gaze snapped back to the beast, whose remaining heads were now recoiling in panic, their eyes wide and darting as they watched him. A flicker of terror shone in the creature’s gaze as it shrank back, abandoning its attack, its focus entirely on its own survival. But that fear only fed Thorne’s hunger further. The beast had what he needed.

  A scream tore from his throat as he raised his hands, feeling his core quake, thrumming with a wild, unstable energy that made his entire body tremble. He called out to the aether, his will desperate, ravenous, reaching out with an unrestrained, brutal command. The creature’s aether pushed back, resisting, but he drove his will deeper, tearing past its defenses with a single-minded intensity.

  And then, finally, it gave way. The beast’s aether ruptured, and an explosion of raw energy washed over him, each searing wave funneling into his core like a flood. His core drank greedily, devouring the torrent of power, pulling every last shred of the beast’s essence into him, draining it entirely. The world dissolved in a haze of euphoria and scorching heat as the energy filled him, his core swelling, ready to burst from his chest. Thorne let himself drown in it, the sensation blinding, intoxicating, pushing him past any boundary he’d ever known.

  Power.

  Thorne’s core rattled violently, shifting and transforming, greedily siphoning every mote of aether it could grasp. It felt as though his very essence was expanding, stretching to contain the torrent of power surging through him. The maelstrom of energy within him roared, his body trembling under the relentless strain. And then, with an abrupt jolt, it stopped.

  His vision flickered, and a notification glowed faintly before him, each word sinking into his awareness with surreal clarity.

  Trait Evolved: Elder Race

  Aetherbound:

  Effect: Your connection to aether reaches a profound level where you are not merely attuned to it but inextricably woven into its fabric. You gain a subtle but constant symbiosis with the aetheric forces around you, experiencing an intuitive awareness and connection to the world’s underlying energy.

  Passive Benefits:

  Universal Flow: Your body aligns perfectly with the natural flow of ambient aether, granting you passive resilience, heightened intuition, and seamless adaptability to any environment or magical influence. The aether flows through you as though you are part of it, enabling you to perceive shifts in energy, balance, and intent around you without conscious focus.

  As he read the words, Thorne felt the change unfurl within him. What had once demanded intense focus and effort now felt effortless, as if the aether were an extension of his limbs, seamlessly woven into the very fabric of his being. He took a shaky breath, the overwhelming power within him settling into something smoother, softer, as though he were breathing with the heartbeat of the world itself.

  Thorne exhaled, a broken sigh escaping his lips as he glanced around, feeling an odd sense of peace, and dawning realization. He was standing at the center of a crater, several feet deep, the edges rough and splintered. Dust and the faint glow of aetheric residue lingered in the air, the devastation around him a silent testament to his unleashed power.

  His legs trembled, his body finally betraying him as the exhilaration faded, leaving only a hollow ache in its wake. Slowly, painfully, he allowed what little aether his core still held to slip away, releasing his hold on the Aether Surge. As the energy drained from him, it felt as if a switch had been flipped, and every ounce of strength vanished from his body.

  His mind stuttered, his vision dimming as the last traces of power abandoned him. He swayed, every fiber of his being drained, hollowed out. And in the fading edges of his consciousness, only one thought echoed, cold and haunting, slicing through the fog that overtook him.

  Consequences…

  And then, darkness claimed him.

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