Chaosbound: Elarith Chronicles

Vyran's Unpredictable Welcome

Nephra barely had time to finish his sentence before Vyran sprang from his seat, a whirlwind of motion. Board game abandoned, a robotic toy still clutched in one hand, he bounded forward, boundless excitement radiating from him.

"It's you!" he shrieked, a delighted sound. "Aurel, the Child of Chaos! It really is you—this is amazing, this is GREAT!"

Vyran's movements were fast, erratic, his energy a torrent of unchecked enthusiasm. This presence was utterly unlike what Aurel expected from a ruler. Aurel stiffened slightly, observing the boy—because that was exactly what he looked like.

"Sixteen? No, maybe younger—but… he's the King? An Abyssal?"

For a moment, Aurel's logic faltered, struggling to process the figure before him, wondering if his eyes were betraying him. But then, a familiar thought surfaced: "Nothing about the Abyssal is ever normal." With a quiet exhale, Aurel pushed away his doubts, standing firm as he finally answered.

"Yes, it is me—Aurel. Thyranthe? I suppose that's what your kind call me?"

Nephra's Intervention—Aurel's Doubts Revealed

Nephra saw the hesitation, the quiet disbelief flickering through Aurel's mind. With a knowing smirk, he decided to clear things up.

"Aurel, this is the King of Arkhanis—Vyran, my brother. Do not let his appearance fool you—he is smarter than both of us combined. Tihehehe!"

The laughter was light, teasing, but Nephra's words carried weight, truth—an undeniable reality that Vyran was not to be underestimated.

The War Room Awaits

Vyran paused for a second, a sudden realization clicking in his mind. "War room!" His tone shifted, excitement amplifying, thoughts already racing ahead. "YES. YES! Let's go there! Plenty of stuff I wanna show you, Aurel!"

He turned toward Aurel with wide-eyed determination, his voice carrying rapid energy. "I can call you Aurel, right? I don't wanna call you Thyranthe—that's weird. Right. Aurel it is!" He continued walking, still playing with his little robotic toy, tapping its mechanisms as he made it fire imaginary shots—pew pew pew—before bursting into another fit of laughter. "Come this way, follow me! Hi ha!"

And without hesitation, the young King led them forward, ready to unveil the hidden depths of Arkhanis' war chamber.

The King's Playful Authority

Vyran halted mid-step, spinning back toward his playmate general, eyes narrowing in exaggerated scrutiny. "Don't cheat, got it?! I'll get back at you—don't you dare make any moves yet!"

The general—caught in the act—froze, guilt flashing across his face. He quickly nodded in submission, his hands instinctively hovering over the board as if caught in the middle of some grand scheme. Then, as if remembering his actual role, he straightened, squared his shoulders, and with absolute discipline, performed the Kingdom Salute.

It was a precise, ritualistic movement of authority: right fist pointing downward, head tilting upward, a slow, deliberate motion—rotating the fist clockwise, rising from below to shoulder level—head shifting from upward to forward—eyes locked, posture unwavering. Then, his voice, clear, sharp, fully embracing his rank: "YES, SIR! YOUR HIGHNESS!!!"

The energy in the room shifted instantly, balancing between Vyran's playful dominance and the unquestionable discipline of his forces. Nephra, amused, simply smirked, watching the exchange unfold, his gaze flickering between his chaotic brother and the bewildered Aurel, who was still absorbing every unexpected detail.

Vyran, satisfied, finally turned back toward Aurel, the enthusiasm never leaving his steps as he pressed forward. "Alright, alright! Enough distractions! To the war room! Come on—there's so much I wanna show you, Aurel!"

And just like that, they continued onward, stepping deeper into the heart of Arkhanis' war chambers, where secrets far greater than board games awaited.

Arkhanis' True Purpose

Vyran wasted no time, speaking rapidly, decisively, his voice carrying unshaken certainty. "My brothers do not support your idea of going against the Athenari head-on and alone. Brother Kaelith—our leader—does not want an all-out war against them. For reasons classified and... well, let's just say they cannot be shared. At least not yet."

But then, his grin returned, his enthusiasm bursting through the weight of secrecy. "That's why we are here—to aid you. With technology. With an army of your own."

"Ohh, this is gonna be exciting." Nephra's voice held an energy so effortlessly matched by Vyran; the two brothers radiated a shared passion for technology and war. Nephra turned toward Aurel with an unmistakable sense of anticipation. "You will be delighted to see what we've prepared for you. I sincerely wanted to aid you openly, but Brother Kaelith forbids it. He says we must respect your decisions. That being said, do not hesitate to reach out for help. Vyran here has agreed to aid you directly."

For a moment, Vyran's playful nature faded, replaced by something sharper, heavier. "Aurel, I know you are wondering why I invited you here. This place is a secret—please do not tell anyone about it. As you suspected, this is a place where we are preparing for WAR." His gaze held absolute certainty, his words carrying undeniable conviction. "The Athenari are not the only threats. There are greater threats than we could ever hope to prepare for. We must always be ready for the unknown."

The Chaos Weaver's Warning

Vyran's words triggered something in Aurel, memories flickering from past warnings. "These threats again? The unknown? Are there really greater dangers than the Athenari?" The question lingered, unspoken, pressing against the back of his mind, refusing to fade.

Suddenly, Vyran's tone shifted again, leaning toward curiosity. "Before we enter this room—please summon your animas. Rindel, right? And... that new one. The one with Brother Erynos' essence?"

Aurel froze, his breath hitching for just a second. "How did he know that? That was supposed to be a secret." His expression betrayed his shock, but before he could speak, Vyran laughed, waving off his tension. "Relax. No one else knows. Seryron told me secretly before he disappeared. And Brother Nephra, of course. We swore not to tell anyone unless you told them yourself." There was no deception, no hidden agenda—just genuine interest. "I would like to meet the anima you created."

Aurel's eyes flickered toward Nephra, whose face lit up, a spark of pure fascination igniting in his eyes. This wasn't just curiosity. He leaned forward slightly, almost imperceptibly, his gaze intense. Nephra had been experimenting with Chaos Creatures himself, forging his own understanding of their existence, studying them like a master of forbidden sciences. And now, he wanted to see Aurel's own creations.

Aurel exhaled slowly, feeling the familiar energy coil through his hands, responding to his will, his intention, his command. Then—the portal opened. A gateway not of mere transport, but of creation itself, a bridge between Aurel's own pocket dimension and the present world. And from its depths, two figures emerged: Rindel—a silent force of precision, stepping forward with unwavering presence—and Eryn—carrying the essence of Brother Erynos, his form pulsating with lingering echoes of something greater.

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The air shifted instantly, charged with power unseen before. And as the portal collapsed behind them, sealing Aurel's private domain once more, Nephra and Vyran both froze. Eyes wide. Mouths slightly agape. Expressions locked between sheer excitement and absolute disbelief. Then, the exclamation exploded in unison.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!"

"YOU CAN CREATE YOUR OWN DIMENSION?!"

Their voices overlapped, carrying raw enthusiasm, unfiltered amazement, their reactions so synchronized it was as if they had rehearsed the moment beforehand. Nephra's excitement spiraled beyond containment, his energy practically radiating off his body, while Vyran leaned forward with sharp intensity, analyzing everything before him with newfound fascination. This was not just summoning. This was dimensional mastery. And it was Aurel's alone.

Analyzing the Child of Chaos—The Brothers' Theories

Vyran leaned back slightly, arms crossed, his gaze locked on Aurel with calculating intensity. "You truly are the chosen one, Child of Chaos... I bet you have more hidden powers—things even you haven't uncovered yet."

Then, a shift in tone. The playful excitement bled into something more serious, more analytical, as Vyran and Nephra fell into murmured discussion, their voices barely audible but undeniably filled with technical precision and layered theories.

Nephra's voice whispered rapid thoughts, filled with excited speculation and layered possibilities. "If his Chaos Field is stable enough to maintain a separate dimension, that means—" "No, no, the resonance of his anima suggests—" "But if it follows a fractal pattern, then—"

Vyran countered immediately, gesturing slightly as he added his own input. "That would only apply if his field operated under linear compression, but his summons aren't just reactive—they have autonomous properties." "Which means—" "Yes, exactly! If his anima adapts independently, it could mean—"

Suddenly, they forgot Aurel was even there. Their discussion spiraled deeper, layered with precise technical references, rapid exchanges of agreement and disagreement, speculative adjustments on Aurel's capabilities, limitations, and unseen strengths. Nephra—enthusiastic, rapid-fire, thrilled by the possibilities. Vyran—methodical, precise, narrowing the gaps in their understanding with cold analysis. The two debated, questioned, and refined their ideas, completely lost in their own intellectual world.

Standing there, watching two geniuses dissect his existence like an experiment, Aurel could only blink slowly, absorbing the sight before him. "They... forgot I was here. They're just talking about me like I'm some artifact they're studying. And what's worse—I barely understand half the stuff they're saying." It was both unnerving and strangely amusing—watching two of Arkhanis' most brilliant minds spiral into theories about him, forgetting he was an actual person standing right in front of them.

The Secret War Room

Vyran halted abruptly, his mind snapping back to the true purpose of this meeting. "Yes! The war room!" His confidence shifted, solidified—after witnessing the anima summon, he was now certain about the gifts he had prepared for Aurel. Without hesitation, he sprinted ahead, moving with wild enthusiasm, making sure he reached the destination before anyone else. "Follow us, Aurel!"

The elevator opened, a sleek chamber of shifting energy grids and holographic projections. Vyran gestured rapidly, practically bouncing in place. "Come, come, come! This will take us to the secret war room No. 80!"

"Number 80?" Aurel hesitated slightly, stepping forward with measured caution. "There are more? How many war rooms do they even have?" The realization hit him—Arkhanis was not just a kingdom preparing for war. It was a fortress built entirely around military innovation.

As they stepped inside, the elevator descended into the unknown, and Vyran, unable to contain his excitement, began analyzing the anima in real-time. Nephra, equally enthralled, studied them with calculated curiosity. "So these two... Their physical structures... their autonomous energy flow... If I can also do this..." His voice faded into murmurs, rapid thoughts layered between fascination and restless ambition. Vyran, still testing his own theories, casually tossed out ideas without concern for whether Aurel was listening. "I wonder—when and how could I do something like this?"

Murmuring. Musing. Theory after theory—both of them completely lost in their scientific world. Aurel sighed internally, watching the two spiral into their excitement, as if every discovery had war potential in their minds. "These two weirdos... Always excited about tech, war, or anything remotely experimental."

And now—the war room awaited.

The Chos-Mecha XV Prototypes

The elevator doors hissed open, revealing a vast, cavernous chamber bathed in the soft glow of holographic schematics. Across the room, arrayed in pristine rows, stood towering Chos-Mecha XV prototypes. Their imposing forms, crafted from gleaming, dark metal, hinted at immense power, yet a certain inertness clung to them.

"This is it, Aurel!" Vyran announced, his voice vibrating with pride. "Our latest creations! These are the Chos-Mecha XV prototypes, built using everything we've learned from studying the Malifuge and even some recovered Malus energy."

Aurel's gaze swept over the mechanical giants, and a jolt of understanding pierced him. "So this is it," he realized, "This is why Nephra has been so engrossed in experimenting with Chaos Creatures. He wasn't just pursuing abstract science; he was directly aiding Vyran in creating these technologies."

"They're incredible," Nephra added, a hint of frustration in his tone. "But there's something... missing. We can't quite figure out how to make them truly work." He gestured towards the inert machines. "That's where you come in, Aurel. We believe if you can dominate these prototype units the same way you created and dominated your anima, Eryn and Rindel, they will finally function for us. They need that living, autonomous spark."

Aurel's mind churned. All his newly acquired knowledge from their discussions on Chaos Field Refinement, Energy Manipulation, and Summoning Variations now clicked into place. This wasn't just about helping Arkhanis; it was a profound opportunity to further his own understanding of Chaos, to push the boundaries of his power.

He met Vyran's eager gaze, then Nephra's expectant one. "I'm willing to try it," Aurel stated, a new resolve in his voice. "Let's play along with your... experiments."

Converging Minds

Aurel sat across from Nephra, their discussions deep, layered, endless, as days stretched into a seamless cycle of analysis, experimentation, and relentless refinement. Vyran, always energetic, always eager, interjected with wild theories, some brilliant, some bordering on madness, but always pushing the conversation forward into unexplored possibilities. Their rare convergence of minds—a meeting of Chaos, Abyssal mastery, and technological precision—wove into a single, focused study of power itself.

Each theory expanded further—Aurel revealing his own understanding of his abilities, while Nephra and Vyran countered with insights drawn from their own mastery over the Malifuge and Abyssal power.

What Aurel learned:

Chaos Field Refinement: How his energy interacts with the world, and how it can potentially alter the very fabric of existence when focused properly.

Energy Manipulation: The way his raw power affects external forces, and how Abyssals use their own version of dominance to control Malifuge energy—an approach different from his own but deeply insightful.

Summoning Variations: Methods Nephra and Vyran used to forge their own constructs—though inferior to Aurel's dimensional summoning, the principles offered a deeper understanding of alternate Chaos applications.

What Nephra & Vyran learned:

The nature of Aurel's creations: Why his summons function independently, why his anima carries distinct personalities, and how his Chaos seems closer to creation than destruction.

His unique ability to dominate Malifuge energy: Something they cannot replicate, but something they may be able to understand and refine for other applications.

Theoretical Chaos Derivations: Flight, enhancement, reinforcement—what else could Chaos Field manipulation unlock beyond what Aurel currently knows?

A Forgotten Opportunity

For the first time, Aurel felt clarity in his abilities, his power no longer just instinctual but structured, refined, measured. And yet—a thought lingered. "Had I worked with these two before... Had I learned from them earlier... Would I have already understood so much more about myself?"

Vyran and Nephra did not just observe him. They understood him—perhaps even more than he understood himself.

The Birth of an Army—Aurel's Ascension

Today was the day. The air in the observation chamber crackled with anticipation, a silent hum underlying the nervous energy of the scientists and strategists. After days of rigorous study and theoretical breakthroughs, the moment had arrived to test Aurel's unique abilities on Arkhanis' most formidable war machines. And so it began.

Behind the reinforced glass, every mind watched, frozen in stunned silence. This was more than a test. This was a transformation.

Aurel, now hovering in the air, his body radiating with chaotic energy, was no longer simply commanding power—he was becoming power itself. A convergence of techniques—summoning, Chaos Field manipulation, dimensional dominance—woven into one monumental display of absolute control. The very air fractured around him, shifting under the weight of his will, as if reality itself had begun to bend, reshape, surrender beneath his presence.

Nephra did not blink. Did not move. Did not breathe too deeply—afraid he might disrupt whatever miracle was unfolding. Every single detail—captured, documented, analyzed. This was proof of something beyond conventional comprehension. Aurel was not just experimenting. He was creating.

The Mecha Awakens

Then—movement. Slowly. Deliberately. One of the Chos-Mecha XV prototypes twitched—its form shuddering, shifting, transforming. The metal morphed, its structure adjusting, adapting, submitting.

Nephra and Vyran remained silent, but their eyes spoke volumes. What phenomenon was this? Was this even possible? They were not watching an experiment anymore. They were witnessing history.

A New King Has Risen

Then—it happened. As Aurel's Chaos energy surged, his mind threading through every machine, every core, every soldier, he felt them. Not just their existence. Their submission.

And as his eyes opened, burning with Chaos, the entire army of machines knelt before him—as if the presence of a new king had finally arrived.

Aurel descended slowly, exhaustion crushing him, as the overwhelming strain finally overtook his body. His limbs felt like lead, the world tilting precariously. "I did it." His voice barely carried, barely registered, a whisper against the ringing in his ears. And then—darkness. His body gave way, collapsing into the abyss of his own depletion.