“I did it,” whispered Harald, heart racing, chest expanding with elation. He opened his eyes to stare at Brauxis. “I’ve collapsed my auras into one.”

  The Emanation chuckled, though for the first time he sounde uneasy. “So I see! And feel. A noticeable uptick in your potency. Yes. Quite… quite formidable, Young Darrowdelve!”

  Harald rose to his feet. The Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant suffused the chamber. He felt the bleak corona burning about his brow, a mockery of an angel’s halo. It sparked and spat and surged and swirled, his will, the abyss, made manifest.

  But now.

  The chamber felt different. It felt his. His authority flooded the space, the air darkened and given a purple tint, that gelid, underwater feel all the more tangible than before. But the difference was categorical, now; where before his auras had overlapped each other, supported and amplified each other’s powers, now there was but the one, and it was supreme.;

  The Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant.

  Cold dread emanated from him like tendrils of enervating ice. Reality warped. He could vaguely intuit how how time was unsteady around him, shifting like sands on a windblown desert, while he remained tightly focused, a nexus of precision. Those who would oppose him, he sensed, would have to wade through dilations and contractions in time—minute, varying—that would trip them up, cause them to react too quickly, or dangerously delay them. But above and beyond that, he felt how the abyss was present around him, a continuous, silent roar that would amplify his every move, his every power, his every strike.

  The chamber and all that lay within his aura was now his. He had laid claim to all in his aura, and earned dominion.

  Brauxis lowered his feet to the ground and stood. Abruptly his halo burned brightly, his Corona of Judgement flaring bright.

  But where before it had annhilated Harald’s darkness, bleached it utterly and inured the Emanation from Harald’s will, now it merely pushed the purple-tinted darkness back, clearing a radius some four yards wide. Within that space the Emanation’s will burned brightly—but beyond it, Harald could sense his own dominion persisting.

  “Impressive indeed,” called the angel, his heartiness not quite convincing. “I can sense a consolidation. Your aura has grown strong.”

  Harald’s lips peeled back from his teeth as he focused his will upon the angel. The darkness that flooded the chamber coalesced around the halo’s light, and he willed it to smother Brauxis’ completely.

  The Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant responded.

  Slowly but inexorably the darkness closed about the Corona, which flared more brightly as more pressure was brought to bear. Harald took a step forward, chin lowered, and glared at the angel from under his lowered brows. His sparking crown was burning with terrible grandeur, and he felt himself vast, powerful, lethal.

  His four Thrones roared.

  But Brauxis’ power yet lay beyond his ken. The angel extended one palm, as if bidding him stop, and the halo atop his helm flashed. A concussive wave of light cut through the oppressive darkness like a scythe through midnight weeds, and Harald felt his grip shatter; the Crown broke apart, and the proximity of the abyss fell away.

  Harald let out a grunt as he felt the angel’s will like a blow to the sternum, and stepped back, hand going to his heart, choking out a cough.

  “You forced me to impose myself!” boomed Brauxis, his halo returning to its normal brilliance. “I must declare myself surprised! My battle instincts are roused. To sense such malice makes me itch to cut you down, Darrowdelve, but I know your heart to be true. Still! Most strange. To feel such evil about me, yet to restrain myself. Hmm!”

  “Sorry.” Harald massaged the dull ache in his chest. “I got… carried away there.”

  “Very impressive. And you are but Level 8! I shudder to think what puissance you shall manifest at higher levels. Verily, you shall be terrifying. But enough of that. Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” Harald stood straight, and banished his disappointment. Had he thought to overwhelm a Level 14 equivalent foe? Madness. And yet, for a second there…

  “You have taken a great first step. It is said that the more powers you can consolidate, the greater the blessings earned as you ascend in levels. Examine your abilities, Harald, and see if there are any other felicitous overlaps.”

  “Sure.” Harald took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking along the same lines. For example, my Abyssal Attunement empowers my weapons to drain my foes when I hit them, right? And Demonic Edge is the ranged version of that attack, where I fling the abyss at distant enemies. Perhaps they could be combined?”

  “Worth exploring,” agreed Brauxis, rising to hover cross-legged once more.

  “And, well. Abyssal Grasp allows me to extend tendrils of pure void from the heart of the abyss to immobilize and drain enemies, while Shadow Dominion does the same thing to paralyze my enemies are force lesser foes to fight for me. Not that I’ve fought a lot of lesser foes, but the pair are very connected.”

  “Hmm!” rumbled Brauxis.

  “And… then I’ve got my shadow-based powers. Shadow Fortitude, obviously, which allows me to hide in darkness and feel no pain, along with Dark Vigor, which uses darkness to increase my fortitude. Veil of Shadows allows me to move undetected in darkness, and then Umbral Aegis uses shadows to cloak me in actual armor. They’re all connected.”

  “Four is a most excellent number to merge.”

  “And!” Harald tried not too sound too excited. “Black Halo surrounds me with a great ring of slashing blades—”

  “So I recall.”

  “But can be used to empower my Tenebral Surge, which sends a blast out in all directions. Again, a lot of functional overlap.”

  “If you can consolidate these powers into greater wholes, how many will that leave you with when all is said and done?”

  Harald ran over the list. “That would bring me down from sixteen powers to eight.”

  “Eight.” Brauxis seesawed his head. “Not bad. But there should be more. The lower you can make that number, the more rapid shall be your advancement.”

  Harald sat and summoned his Window. Stared at the remaining powers. “I’ll… I’ll think on it, for sure.”

  “In the meantime, begin working on those shadow-based powers. That is your greatest consolidation, and should result in a magnificent new ability.”

  “Right.” Harald gave a sharp nod. “Shadow Fortitude, Dark Vigor, Umbral Aegis, and Veil of Shadows. I’ll begin right now.”

  “Good! There is no time like the present.

  * * *

  Time passed.

  Harald had expected to grow impatient with the process, but instead found himself fascinated. Days were hard to measure in the halls of perpetual brightness, with only his room dimming to allow him to sleep.

  His thoughts were perpetually bent toward the nature of his own powers, and only now did he begin to realize how malleable they were. How mutable his own identity. Since the beginning he had thought himself nothing more than a passive recipient of the Fallen Angel’s gifts as warped by the Demon Seed, but now, with ever-growing excitement, he realized just how pro-active he could be.

  His gifts were malleable. He could bend and twist them, find common ground between his Actives and Passives, and mold them into greater, more lethal combinations.

  All of it stemmed from his understanding of the abyss and how it expressed himself through his Thrones, through his Class, through his very self.

  He still saw little of Sam and Nessa. When they did spend time together, it was to eat, to relax, to enjoy each other’s company—but not to discuss their individual journies. Something about this phase felt delicate, precious, even. There was a purity to his intense meditations that caused him to shy away from sharing the process. This was intensely personal, and so while he welcomed the company of his companions, he didn’t want to try and put his growing epiphanies into words.

  They seemed much the same.

  Days flowed into each other. Brauxis was an ever-optimistic and encouraging presence, who only demanded as payment to spend time on occasion with Shadowpaw.

  Harald saw nothing of Alabenthos or the other trainers and denizens of the level.

  Which suited him well. He walked in a daze, half-drenched in the very fabric of the abyss, his mind delving, ever delving into his very nature.

  His next major breakthrough came exactly where Brauxis had suggested it: with his shadow-based powers.

  That darkness, shadow, and the abyss were key elements was obvious. But it took long days of dreaming and pondering to understood how they might mesh into one cohesive whole.

  Seated in the stone cavern, chin lowered, eyes closed, Harald drifted on banks of night when the truth flowered within him.

  Dark Vigor, Shadow Fortitude, Umbral Aegis, and Veil of Shadows didn’t simply bring him the benefits of shadow and absence; he wasn’t an individual who cloaked himself in external darkness. He was changed by the powers. Made strong, made immune to pain, given energy, given protection.

  He was not separate. His idea of ‘Harald’ was not distinct.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  These powers. The emerged from within him.

  The shadows were his own.

  He was the darkness.

  Each power was but a step in that realization.

  Passive Ability Unlocked: Form of the Black Throne

  Your flesh, shadow, and will have fused into a sovereign vessel of the abyss. Blows slip, pain dulls, and darkness gathers instinctively around and within you. Your body no longer fully abides by mortal limits.

  +4 to Dexterity while activated

  +4 to Strength while activated

  +4 to Constitution while activated

  Harald’s eyes snapped open. Excitement had him by the throat. Brauxis’ attention fell upon, aroused by the angel’s own instinctive magical senses.

  But Harald wasted no time. Exultant, he willed the new Passive into being, and changed.

  Shadows flooded out from his core, and saturated his body. He felt himself become one with the darkness in a way that was different, new, and profound.

  He was no longer a human form cloaked in darkness. His very flesh was now woven through with shadow, so that he felt himself… unreal, insubstantial, the contours of his form fading into the air around him. Not a ghost, not pure shadow itself, but only partially physical now. Beneath that new sensation lay another: a bonfire ready to flare up the moment his form was damaged, to bolster and regenerate him, to make him more focused and coherent the more wounds and exhaustion he sustained.

  Harald stared down at himself in wonder. He wasn’t merely turned into shadow; the very darkness that engulfed him afforded a protection he intuited exceeded that gifted by Umbral Aegis. It gave an sensation of invulnerability he knew had to be false, but still it raised his spirits, made him feel untouchable, unreachable. And the very bonuses afforded by Dark Vigor had doubled as well.

  “Impressive,” said Brauxis. “The urge to smite you has redoubled!”

  “My apologies,” said Harald, turning his arms to and fro as he admired their whispering, blacky burning forms. His words seemed to come from far away. “I… yes. I can feel my power growing.”

  “The natural culmination of this refinement and increased simplicity is a new level,” said Brauxis. “The Fallen Angel always recognizes consolidation.”

  “That so?” Harald grinned, though he knew Brauxis couldn’t see his smile beneath the shifting darkness. “So consolidating my powers will result in gaining new ones?”

  “No. You are in the process of gaining that power already. The level is her acknowledgement of your gains.”

  “I see.” Harald lowered his arms, and allowed the Form of the Black Throne to fall away. His body immediately felt heavy, burdensome, and slow. He inhaled deeply. Had he even been breathing while in his new form? He couldn’t recall. “I guess I’m getting greedy.”

  “Were you not, you wouldn’t be Level 8.” Brauxis seemed to be studying him, though his blank helm revealed nothing. Harald could sense his focus. “Yet you are gaining more power than I anticipated. You are benefitting more than most from consolidation.”

  “Talented, I guess,” grinned Harald.

  “Or it could be your Demon Seed.”

  Harald’s grin slipped away.

  “Regardless. Continue. There are more benefits to be realized.”

  * * *

  Harald’s next advancement came only a day later; spurred by impatience at the increase of his Passives abilities, he chose to focus instead upon his attacks, and in rapid order was able to intuit the connection between Abyssal Attunement and Demonic Edge. One infused his blade with the draining power of the abyss, turning the edge of his sword into a portal to the abyss, while the other flung that energy forth. They were both reflections of the same principle, and their aggressive intent made discerning their unity simple.

  But that realization still felt only partial; satisfying, yes, elementary, true, but insufficient.

  Harald dove deep into his core, frustrated with the lack of resultant consolidation. Was he missing something? Abyssal Attunement allowed him to drain essence through contact with his blade. Combat thus became a process of… extraction.

  Demonic Edge allowed him to extend his attacks beyond his steel. His weapon became… a conduit? There was something there akin to an aura power, was there not? Within a certain domain, he could project the abyss. His Edge allowed him to send distinct arcs in a direct line, but it was still a projection, his blade becoming a conduit.

  In a sense… Black Halo was already a combination of them both. Abysally Attuned attacks that acted as an conduit for his destructive desires.

  Close.

  He felt his core identity shift, felt his understanding of the abyss shiver.

  What of Tenebral Surge? A radial annhilation burst. He became the center of devastation. The overlap with Black Halo was clear, but wasn’t that underpinned by Abyssal Attunement and Demonic Edge?

  Excitement coursed through him, nearly causing him to lose his thread of thought. All were based on the power of the abyss, obviously, but they were… while using them, he became…?

  It was so close. So tantalizingly close.

  Those four powers, when considered together, weren’t just distinct ways to attack. They were… when combined… a means to…

  Harald inhaled deeply and clenched his fists. His whole body was taut with tension. Consciously, he forced himself to relax.

  They were… a means to impose collapse.

  Flesh sundered. Essence drained. Foes destroyed. The abyss made manifest on the battlefield. Enemies weren’t just hit; they were drained, shredded, surrounded, overwhelmed, and unmade.

  When combined, the four powers turned him into the core of a unified destructive system.

  Harald’s eyes snapped open as an image seared itself into his mind: a vortex, a permanent swirling storm of the abyss with himself as the eye.

  Passive Ability Unlocked: Abyssal Imperium

  Your abyssal powers have fused into a singular dominion of collapse.

  You now wield annihilation as a unified force.

  Harald let out a sharp exhalation.

  Blinked, but saw that Brauxis was gone. Spun, and saw that the exit from the cavern was sealed shut, smooth stone where the archway had been.

  Heart pounding, barely able to catch is breath, he reeled, the power of his epiphany and the change in his circumstances overwhelming him.

  Abyssal Imperium?

  Had the very power of his new power scared the angel away? Had this all been a trap, a way to lure him into revealing the Demon Seed’s true might?

  Chest heaving powerfully, he summoned Chyron’s Scourge and activated his new power.

  The air darknened as if bruised, and filled with glints and hints of whirling movement as the ghosts of a thousand shadow blades began to revolve around him, filling the cavern with dark edges and intimations of death. The Scourge turned jet black, gleaming as if freshly dipped in ebon oil.

  Harald licked his lower lip, considered blasting an attack at the freshly sealed wall. But then—no.

  He dismissed the Abyssal Imperium.

  The swirling madness of the rapidly revolving shadow blades faded, and the Scourge returned to its geode-mineral hue.

  He knew he should be furious.

  That this turn of events was a betrayal.

  Did they seek to entomb him forever, and be rid of a potential foe?

  It mattered not.

  Right now, Harald wanted one thing: to continue following the thread of his realizations.

  Abyssal Imperium. Form of the Black Throne. Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant.

  All three were huge strides toward a destination that was just outside his reach.

  But he was close.

  So close.

  Harald dropped to his knees, rested his fists upon his thighs, and closed his eyes.

  Five powers yet remained unconsolidated.

  Abyssal Grasp. Shadow Dominion. Grave Concordat. Dread Wellspring. Maw of the Starless Deep.

  Five.

  Brauxis has encouraged him to reach for four.

  Was it possible to combine even more?

  Harald bent his chin and focused.

  The very cavern felt in flux around him. As if a great entity had turned to consider him for the first time. Alabenthos?

  No.

  This was something even vaster.

  Harald forced the notion out of his mind.

  Was there even a thread connecting the five?

  He’d already grasped the connection between Abyssal Grasp and Shadow Dominion. Both manifested living tendrils of the abyss which quested for his foes, immobilizing, draining, and controlling them. Both were birthed from the abyss.

  The abyss’s hunger and will made manifest.

  The Abyssal Grasp fed him his foes’s energy. Allowed him to drain them akin to a vampire. Dread Wellspring fed him directly from the abyss. With each passing moment his connection to the abyss grew stronger, allowing him to increase his physical stats. One sourced from his enemies, the other from the abyss.

  And there Harald was forced to a stop. His mind wandered, probed, but he couldn’t continue. He felt overwhelmed still by the power of his Abyssal Imperium realization, and had trouble bringing his focus to the new task.

  For hours he knelt, utterly focused, mind straying, probing, asking.

  Then he hit upon an elementary truth: the abyss was the source of the Grasp and Wellspring’s power. The Starless Deep was a literal rift into the abyss that he tore open on the battlefield.

  The Deep was, in a sense, the source of the Grasp and the Wellspring. Yet Harald was himself an embodiment of the abyss. He now wielded Abyssal Imperium and the Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant. With the Form of the Black Throne his literal body became infused with the abyss’s very darkness.

  The Maw of the Starless Deep was no longer merely a power. It was himself, Harald, made manifest on the battlefield.

  He was the abyss. The void lived within him.

  He and the Starless Deep were one.

  Everything collapsed in upon itself.

  Passive Ability Unlocked: Well of Starless Dominion

  The Starless Deep establishes a permanent font within your soul.

  Abyssal tendrils now emanate from this wellspring, draining enemies and empowering you and your bound Servitors as battle endures.

  Harald felt it open inside him. Not a spell, not a summons, not a surge. A depth. A wellspring. Somewhere beyond his heart, beyond memory, beyond fear and sense of self, an invisible shaft plunged down into black infinity.

  And from it, the power of the abyss arose.

  Unable to resist, Harald activated Starless Dominion, and though he felt his four Thrones pour their power into this new Active, what now blossomed in his essence was a font to the abyss. Upon activation, it cracked open, allowing void power to trickle out, forming the tendrils of shadow he recognized from Abyssal Grasp and Shadow Dominion, but with each passing moment the aperture grew wider.

  His Thrones controlled for how long he could keep the Well open, but the Well itself was endless in depth, and a moment later he received his first notification:

  Starless Dominion Bestows +1

  His frame shuddered as power poured into him. What was the cap? His new power, unlike Dread Wellspring, didn’t define a limit. Was it simply for however long he could keep this power active?

  Excitement and awe caused him to shudder.

  Text filled his vision, surprising him.

  The abyss welcomes its living conduit into the world.

  By the decree of the Fallen Angel, you are granted the next echelon of your destiny:

  Abyssal Master 9

  Wrestling with the implications, he opened his Window and focused on the section that listed his Abilities:

  Class: Abyssal Master 9

  Class Actives: (A) Abyssal Imperium, (A) Well of Starless Dominion

  Class Passives: (A) Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant, (A) Form of the Black Throne

  Four powers. Grave Concordat had also been absorbed into Well of the Starless Dominion. That had to mean his Servitors would… what?

  Harald summoned Shadowpaw.

  The huge mastiff appeared by side, coalescing out of swirling darkness, and Harald sensed the difference instantly: the open abyssal font within his soul began to pour dark energy into the hound through a slender and translucent thread.

  Shadowpaw whuffed in momentary confusion, then turned to gaze at Harald with burning black eyes. He seemed augmented, larger, his presence more chilling and lethal.

  Which he promptly undercut by licking at Harald’s hand with his great red tongue.

  “There’s been some big changes,” whispered Harald, and knelt to scritch the hound behind the ears. “I’m… I’m not the man I was, even a few hours ago.”

  Shadowpaw chuffed and lapped at Harald’s cheek with his abrasive tongue. For a moment it was all Harald could do to chuckle and bury his face in the thick fur of Shadowpaw’s neck, and then, taking a deep breath, he stood and turned to face the blank wall.

  “If they think they can lock me up in here and forget about me, they’re wrong.”

  Shadowpaw stepped up alongside him.

  Harald took a deep, shaky breath, and activated Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant. He felt that platinum crown appear above his brow, the air turned purple, and his breath began to puff out with each exhalation. Shadowpaw became a denser than dark presence by his side.

  Harald activated Form of the Black Throne.

  He felt himself shift, transmute, become paritally ethereal, his essence feeding off the ambient darkness.

  Starless Dominion Bestows +2

  And then finally, Thrones straining, Harald activated Abyssal Imperium. The light from above faltered and became little more than a gloomy glow. The air filled with the whispering rush of a thousand unseen blades.

  Augmented past anything he’d ever experienced, feeling himself doom made incarnate, Harald summoned the Chyron’s Scourge to his fist, and raised the Epic-ranked blade.

  Its length gleamed an impossible black.

  He drew it back for a strike upon the smooth wall, and felt his will rise, his malice spike, his eagerness for confrontation build.

  “Here I come, Alabenthos. Ready or not.”