My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 801 Ironhart
A wave emanated outward from my core. The imploding spots wavered instantly upon the wave's contact. Their sucking force disintegrated as the twisted zones forfeited their unity. Each dark spot in turn unraveled, its squeezing pressure becoming unsteady right before it finished collapsing.
The region of space near me stabilized once more.
I lifted my hand and repeated the gesture.
My fingers traced a level sweep.
One dark spot materialized right in front of me.
Unlike the shadow's creation, my version showed no wavering or instability. It stayed utterly steady while advancing. Then it split apart. Scores of spots fanned out before rushing together toward the shadow simultaneously. Upon touching it, they imploded. The inward rush hit right away and with savage force.
The area encircling the shadow twisted inward fully, smashing its frame as the imploding zones overlapped and amplified one another. The warp engulfed its shape, ripping it to shreds without any fight.
Its form shattered and melted into floating shadows.
Yet another piece lingered, this time a space fragment.
I consumed it.
My grasp of space intensified, with the volcano reacting in kind. I shut my eyes, taking in the fresh insights.
The soul that appeared offered a bow of thanks before fading away.
I pressed onward.
White tile.
Black tile.
The following shadow held insights into time. It proved the simplest battle for me yet. Once I vanquished the shadow, I absorbed the fragment.
And kept moving ahead.
One shadow after another appeared and crumbled. One law after another got challenged and devoured. Each triumph sharpened my understanding further, making my soul thicker, tougher, more solid. When I finally arrived at the distant end of the patterned corridor, I had transformed from the entity who first trod upon the initial tile.
No tiles lay before me now.
The checkerboard design stopped a few paces from the opposite wall, revealing only bare rock as a quiet barrier. No entrance appeared, no hidden device showed itself, no clue hinted at how the way ahead might open. The barrier stayed motionless, exactly like it had upon my entry into the corridor, giving zero reaction to my advancement.
I stayed put briefly, watching and anticipating the corridor's response, just as the earlier chambers had given.
Nothing occurred.
I pivoted around.
The instant I turned, the tiles started shifting.
It began with a light tremor underfoot, a minor change that soon escalated into a purposeful motion. The dark and light tiles broke free from their spots and slid over the ground, reorganizing silently and without obvious power. Whole lines moved laterally, some spun or swapped positions, the design breaking down and rebuilding in an endless stream.
In mere moments, the change finished.
The corridor lost its checkered look.
One half of the space turned completely dark. The other half purely light.
I positioned myself on the light half.
A razor-sharp divide stretched straight through the corridor's middle, splitting it into balanced realms of brightness and gloom.
Then the dark half undulated.
Its top no longer acted like rock. It flowed like fluid, shedding its firmness as soft ripples crossed its expanse. The firm ground morphed into something different, like a shadowy, mirroring pool whose top warped and changed on its own.
Out of that warp, a presence started ascending.
Initially, just a subtle bulge pierced the even top. Then it expanded, crafting a form that rose gradually, intentionally, as if surfacing from vast depths. A head surfaced.
Followed by shoulders.
Then limbs.
The shadow ascended completely from the fluid top, its shape firming up as it advanced to the edge between dark and light.
But the change went beyond that.
The shadowy base under the shadow churned more fiercely, and from its depths, chains started to surface. They gleamed pitch black, their sheen absent and void-like, as if they ignored all light from their surroundings. One by one, they lifted from the fluid earth, twisting upward like animated snakes heading to one goal.
They encircled the shadow.
Starting at its legs, winding snugly as they ascended. Next its midsection, interlacing in thick bands. Additional chains came, securing its limbs, its upper back, its throat, until the shadow stood fully trapped in their hold.
The whole formation quivered.
The chains squeezed tighter, drawing inward as if compelling something to stay locked. The shadow's shape flickered, its exterior becoming unstable amid waves of warp rippling through. For a few heartbeats, nothing more transpired. The chains kept compressing, imprisoning whatever hid inside that shape in total restraint.
Then the strain shattered.
A blast surged outward from the shadow's frame.
The chains broke at once, shards flying apart before vanishing into void. In that same instant, a pair of wings erupted from its back.
Shadowy wings.
They stretched wide, their plumes keen and clear, matching the wings from the vision exactly. The shadow's shell began to fracture, its outer layer tearing in rough pieces that dropped away gradually. The gloom composing its body flaked off like dry shell, no longer able to support what lay below.
What stood there was no shadow anymore.
A figure occupied the space.
Whole and real.
Silver hair draped freely about his features. His flesh bore the subtle gray hue I recalled. His stance stayed serene and even, his wings folded easily at his rear as if they'd always been part of him.
I knew him right away.
Theras Prime.
He appeared precisely as in the vision, precisely as he'd positioned himself before the blade lodged in the peak. No warp marred his shape, no unsteadiness tainted his being. He didn't shimmer like prior shadows. He simply was, in full.
His crimson gaze locked with mine. Gradually, he tilted his head and surveyed the corridor, his sight sweeping over the dark and light squares, the lofty columns, and the quiet divide cleaving the space. His wings adjusted faintly at his back while he took in the scene.
Afterward, his gaze fixed on me again.
"Who are you?" he inquired.
"Billion Ironhart," I answered.
My voice held steady, yet all my senses stayed alert. Essence circulated softly in my pathways, balanced and poised. My Psynapse spread wide, charting every ripple in the corridor, every motion, every alteration in force or form. My laws simmered just below, held back but primed, alert for the barest sign of threat.
"Billion?" he echoed.
He blinked once, his face changing subtly as if rummaging through recollections.
"Never heard of that name."
His attention dropped to his own palm. He lifted it deliberately, rotating it faintly as if inspecting an absence. His digits curled briefly, checking flexibility, before his sight rose anew to probe the corridor with greater care.
"Where is my sword?" he questioned.
His tone held no alarm, merely anticipation.
His eyes shifted to my grasp.
"Did I lose it?" he whispered.
He touched his brow with his fingers, pressing gently as if urging memory into focus. His forehead creased faintly. For a handful of seconds, he froze in place.
Then he breathed out softly.
He dropped his hand and faced me once more.
"Never heard your name," he stated. "But Ironhart…"
He halted.
"I remember completely killing you all," he went on evenly. "How did you survive?"