That not so important character turned out to be important

The oppressive energy in the chamber surged, crashing down on Shaun like the weight of an entire planet. The air thickened, each breath a grueling effort as if invisible chains tightened around his lungs. His knees buckled slightly before he caught himself, his aura flaring instinctively. A shimmering shield of energy encased him, pushing back against the crushing force, but even that felt like trying to hold up a collapsing mountain.

The Eye of Aethralis loomed before him, its pulsating silver light casting jagged shadows across the chamber. The runes on the walls flickered erratically, resonating with the Eye's ancient rage. Shaun narrowed his eyes, sweat dripping down his face as he felt the entity's power probing his defenses, testing him like a predator circling its prey.

"This is bad... really bad," Shaun muttered under his breath, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. He clenched his fists, trying to steady his trembling frame. "It's like gravity itself decided to throw a tantrum."

He had already dispelled Ignis, Tempest, and Umbra, sending them back to the safety of the forest. This fight wasn't just dangerous—it was a whole new level of catastrophic.

"Great," Shaun thought, his smirk faltering for a moment. "A sealed ancient monstrosity flexing its leftover power. What could possibly go wrong? for now Let's add 'not dying horribly' to the to-do list"

His eyes locked onto the Eye's swirling core. Deep within its silver depths, he could feel it—a consciousness older than time, coiled in malice, barely restrained by its bindings. It wasn't just power; it was hunger, rage, and despair all woven into a single, suffocating presence.

"None of my summons could handle this thing," Shaun mused, his smirk returning despite the growing dread in his chest. "They're strong, sure, but throwing them at this would be like sending toddlers to wrestle a bear. That wouldn't be fair, would it be."

The chamber shuddered violently as a voice slithered out from the Eye, reverberating with a haunting, metallic timbre. "What happened, mortal child?" it hissed, every word dripping venom and malice. "Where is that arrogance you flaunted so boldly outside? Have you finally realized the futility of your existence?"

Shaun staggered under the weight of its words, his aura flickering momentarily before flaring brighter, a defiant spark in the suffocating void. His lips curled into a smirk, his voice sharp with mockery. "Oh, so you can talk! I was starting to think you were just some big, shiny rock with an ego problem. Guess I was half-right."

The Eye's glow intensified, flooding the chamber with an oppressive light that felt like it would crush Shaun's very soul. The air hummed with ancient wrath as if reality itself was straining under the entity's malice.

Shaun raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare, his grin unwavering.

"Oh, that. Yeah, sorry to disappoint you, but I left the arrogance outside. Thought it'd clash with the... whatever this is. Is this supposed to be intimidating? Because right now, you're less terrifying and more of an annoying drama queen."

The voice turned colder, more guttural, the chamber trembling with its rage. "You dare mock me, insect? You tread in the domain of a god and spit defiance in its face?"

Shaun snorted, his smirk widening as he forced his trembling legs to take a step forward. His aura burned brighter, pushing back against the suffocating weight with sheer willpower. "A god? You? Hate to break it to you, but you're more like an old man throwing a tantrum. All this power you're flexing, and yet..." His eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint. "...not a single actual attack. Funny, isn't it? All bark, no bite. I'm starting to think the big, scary Eye is just a glorified flashlight."

The chamber quaked violently, the oppressive energy spiking as if in response to Shaun's taunts. The light from the Eye dimmed momentarily, replaced by a deep, resonating hum—a sound that seemed to crawl into Shaun's very bones.

"You overstep your bounds, mortal." The voice hissed, dripping with icy fury. "You speak of what you do not understand. My mercy is not weakness. It is a choice. A choice that you are swiftly running out of."

Shaun laughed, the sound echoing through the chamber like a crack in the suffocating tension. "Mercy? Sure, buddy. Let's go with that. You've had plenty of chances to turn me into a smudge on the floor, and yet here I am, still standing. If this is your mercy, I'd hate to see your wrath—oh wait, I can't. Because it doesn't exist."

The Eye's glow flickered dangerously, the room vibrating with an almost deafening hum as Shaun felt the pressure intensify. His bones ached under the strain, and for a moment, it felt like the very air was trying to crush him.

And yet, he stood firm, his aura burning like a defiant flame in the darkness. "Face it," Shaun said, his voice steady despite the shaking in his limbs. "You're nothing but a cat pretending to be a tiger. Keep hissing all you want, but at the end of the day, all you can do is glare and growl."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, the Eye's light surged once more, casting the chamber in an ominous glow. "You will regret your insolence, mortal. Your end will be slow, and your screams will echo for eternity."

An invisible weight crushing down on Shaun's shoulders as if the very air sought to pulverize him. The Eye of Aethralis pulsed ominously at the center, its light a blend of ancient malice and boundless power. Each pulse felt like a heartbeat—steady, unyielding, and suffused with hostility.

Shaun's body screamed in protest. His muscles trembled, his ribs strained, and his vision blurred under the unrelenting force. A bitter metallic taste filled his mouth. Yet, he refused to avert his gaze, his fiery defiance unwavering. His voice, strained yet steady, broke through the oppressive silence.

"Hey," he rasped, his smirk intact despite the crushing force, "you're not the one who dragged me here, are you? Seems a bit beneath your... station."

The Eye remained silent, its glow intensifying, as though deciding whether to respond. Shaun's mind, however, was racing. This entity's strong, no question there, but being sealed is crippling its range of action. If it could have pulled me here, it wouldn't hesitate to snuff me out immediately.

The chamber trembled as the entity's voice emerged, a deep, guttural growl that reverberated through Shaun's bones.

"Dragged you? I don't waste energy entertaining vermin. If you're here, it's because you stumbled into my presence like a moth drawn to flame."

Shaun forced a ragged breath into his burning lungs. "Ah, the misunderstood recluse routine," he quipped, his tone infuriatingly casual. "Fine. Let's talk sensibly—ease up on this pressure, and I might even promise not to harm you."

The entity's response was swift and unforgiving. The pressure escalated, becoming almost tangible as it crushed down on Shaun's chest. The chamber groaned under the strain, cracks spiderwebbing across its stone walls. The light from the Eye flared blindingly.

With a violent flick, Shaun's body was hoisted into the air like a marionette. He slammed into the ceiling, his bones rattling from the force. Before he could process the pain, the telekinetic grip hurled him back to the floor. His body crumpled on impact, his legs bending at unnatural angles. A sickening crack echoed as pain shot through his ribs.

Shaun gasped for air, but his windpipe constricted under the crushing force. His chest heaved uselessly, blood bubbling at the corners of his lips as he coughed violently. The cold stone beneath him was quickly stained crimson.

"Human filth," the entity spat, its disdain palpable. "Your kind is a stain upon existence. Look at you—broken and pathetic. You should crawl away while you still can."

Shaun, lying in a pool of his blood, struggled to lift his head. His body screamed in protest, but his eyes burned with unyielding defiance. Through gritted teeth, he rasped, "You think… this is enough… to stop me?"

The chamber fell silent for a moment, and then, like the snapping of a taut string, the suffocating pressure dissipated. Shaun's broken body shimmered and faded, leaving behind an unscathed Shaun standing a few feet behind the Eye. His black coat billowed faintly, and the sleek bird on his shoulder tilted its head, observing the scene with eerie calm.

The Eye flared again, its fury palpable.

"You... How? No, this is trickery—a substitute or illusion, perhaps." It attempted to summon its oppressive force again, but nothing came. No telekinetic pull, no crushing aura. The chamber, once stifling, now felt eerily neutral.

Shaun began walking toward the Eye, his steps deliberate, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I promised not to harm you, didn't I?" His tone was mockingly soothing, laced with venomous sarcasm.

The Eye's silence was deafening, its glow dimming but radiating hostility.

Shaun paused, glancing at the ancient chains that bound the entity. "Hmm, it seems these chains don't just limit your power but also hinder your ability to sense properly. If you're curious about what just happened, all you have to do is ask."

The Eye finally spoke, its voice laced with suspicion and frustration. "You must have sent your familiar to the forest disrupt the flow of energy I draw from that place, didn't you . Destroying my connection to the source. Then, you used an aura construct as a substitute for yourself and cloaked your true presence with illusion magic. The seal on this chamber weakens my awareness—rage baiting me to so that I exhaust energy I had left, not noticing the disruption had been your gamble. But... do enlighten me on what did you do that I cannot even access my reserves any more, even before I had not exhausted it?"

The Eye growled, its tone now edged with reluctant curiosity. "Fine, human. Enlighten me. How have you severed my strength? What treachery have you enacted?"

Shaun's smirk widened. "Ah, since you asked so nicely, let me explain," he said, his voice dripping with mock civility. "Meet Tempest." He gestured to the bird perched on his shoulder. "She's quite the master of mental games. While you were distracted toying with my 'aura substitute,' she and I became… undetectable. Not invisible—no, that's too crude. We erased our presence entirely."

The Eye's glow flickered with barely restrained fury.

Shaun continued, his tone turning clinical. "Meanwhile, I embedded my aura throughout this entire castle—slowly, carefully. Then I rewrote the seal binding you here. Not a simple override, mind you. I hacked into the very foundation of it. Wiped the old data, rewrote the rules, and replaced it with my own adjustments. Now, everything here runs on my rules. All of it is out of your reach now."

The chamber trembled faintly, the Eye's fury palpable. "You insolent—"

"Ah, ah," Shaun interrupted, holding up a finger. "Before you rage yourself into irrelevance, consider this: I didn't do this out of malice. You're chained for a reason, aren't you? If you weren't, I'd never have gotten away with this. Now, be a good little Eye and stop pretending you can intimidate me."

Tempest let out a sharp cry, as if mocking the defeated entity. Shaun gave one last glance at the Eye, his smirk fading into a cold, detached expression. "This isn't personal. Like I said, let's have a conversation, believe me i don't mean any harm."

Eye: "Huh, you people are always like this. When you can't win through strength or skill, you resort to underhanded tricks. It's in your very genetics—deception and cowardice are your true nature."

Shaun: "Call it what you want, but it worked, didn't it? You can hate the world and its inhabitants all you like, but your hatred changes nothing. And judging by the venom in your tone, I'd wager you've been sealed here by means you'd call unfair—betrayed, probably, by those you trusted. Makes sense, though. Hypocritical, self-centered bastards are the rule, not the exception."

Shaun steps closer, his voice sharpening as he continues.

"But let's not pretend your suffering is unique. Most creatures—humans, demons, gods, whatever—are just as self-serving, and they'll justify their greed, cowardice, and pettiness however they can. You know what's funny? When a group of five 'heroes' storms into a demon lord's castle and slaughters everyone in sight, they're called brave. But when the tables turn and the so-called villain retaliates, suddenly it's evil. Justice isn't real—it's just the name people slap on their actions when they win."

Shaun's gaze hardens, his voice dropping to a dark, measured tone.

"You think this is humanity's flaw? No, it's a universal truth. Existence itself runs on this cycle of self-delusion. We build cities, nations, and even religions to make sense of the chaos, but all it does is hide the rot underneath. People kill for peace, lie for truth, and destroy to create. That's not strength; it's desperation wrapped in pretty words."

He smirks, but the expression is devoid of warmth.

"Here's the brutal reality: most people are too stupid to see the harm they cause, too scared to confront it, and too arrogant to admit their limits. They cling to their little illusions—power, morality, progress—never realizing they're just rats in a maze someone else built. And when the system collapses, when the lies stop working, they panic. They lash out. They destroy."

Tempest lets out a low, approving chirp as Shaun pauses, letting his words sink in. Then, with a cynical chuckle, he presses on.

"You know what that makes people? Not good or evil—just stupid. Evil is deliberate, calculated. Stupidity is far more dangerous because it's blind. A fool with power can destroy the world, not because they want to, but because they think they're fixing it. Sound familiar?"

Shaun kneels, his fiery gaze locking onto the Eye, his voice soft but seething with cold conviction.

"And yet, here we are, dancing to the same tune. You hate humans for their flaws, but you don't see the irony—you're just as trapped by this cycle as they are. Sealed away, consumed by bitterness, powerless to change a damn thing. Maybe that's why I don't hate people like you. Because at least you're honest about your hatred."

He straightens, his smirk returning with a sharp edge.

"So go ahead, keep cursing humanity, keep brooding over the past. But don't expect me to care. Your anger doesn't impress me. If you want the cycle to break, you have to break it yourself. Otherwise, you're no different from the rest—just another prisoner in a world that's already decided your fate."