Children of The Stellar Severance

"You have touched the threshold, mortal. The potential within you stirs. But potential alone is worthless without resolve. Tell me—will you rise, or will you fall?"

"What do you mean?" I said, barely, managing to force the words out, though they felt fragile and lost within the suffocating vastness of the Aether Realm.

"The Ethereal Nexus offers no gifts. It reveals. It unlocks. But the strength to command what lies within is yours to earn or forfeit." 

The silence that followed was suffocating, broken once again by the voice's chilling finality: "Take the power you seek... or let it devour you. Fail, and the corruption will fester, twisting you from within until nothing remains but a hollow shell, consumed by the very force you dared to awaken."

I swallowed hard, the weight of its words pressing down on me like an unseen force. The runes etched beneath my skin pulsed faintly, their glow a sinister reminder that the trial was far from over. The Nexus wasn't here to help me. It was here to expose me, strip away everything I thought I was, and force me to confront what I could become.

Before I could dwell on the thought, the voice returned, colder and more commanding this time, resonating deep within my mind.

"Trial commencing."

The words echoed like a death knell that had rung all too often on my home planet, a sound that carried the weight of finality. 

Before I could brace myself for what was to come, my vision shattered into darkness once more, consuming everything in its wake.

I awoke in a vast chamber.

High above me, a row of figures sat, their forms obscured by intricate black garments adorned with indecipherable runes woven into the fabric. Their presence carried an undeniable weight, and though I couldn't quite explain why, I felt the runes carried a religious or ceremonial significance, adding to the ominous atmosphere.

This sudden change constrained me. Voices boomed around me, though it seemed to be part of an argumentative conversation—too chaotic and disjointed for me to fully understand.

I wanted to turn around, but the weight of my constraint soon became clear—it wasn't just the feeling of being trapped within the Aetheric trial.

No, it was much worse.

I was bound to a chair—though calling it a mere chair felt woefully inadequate. Its surface gleamed with intricate runic carvings, their shapes twisting and interlocking in ways that defied comprehension. The meanings of the symbols were a mystery, but they radiated an undeniable power. Studded across the chair were gems that shimmered with an unnatural light, each one pulsing rhythmically, as though alive and attuned to something far greater than the throne-like construct itself.

Golden chains encircled my arms, securing them to the chair's upper rests, their icy touch sinking into my skin like fangs. My feet were bound as well, though the exact nature of the restraints eluded me, hidden by the angle of my body and the press of my thighs against the seat.

I couldn't help but wonder what the hell was going on as a wave of anxiety washed over me, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in. Each trial was unique, but something told me this was one of the worst possible starts.

"What's going on? Where am I?" I asked, though the words never left my lips. A strange silence seemed to crush the air around me, as if some unseen force was blocking my voice. I tried again, desperate to make a sound, but no matter how hard I pushed, nothing—nothing—came out. It felt as if an invisible device had sealed my throat, trapping my words inside. The silence was suffocating, oppressive, the kind that seemed to press in from all sides.

A deafening boom echoed through the vast chamber, the sound reverberating off the walls with a force that seemed to shake the very air. The intricate carvings etched into the walls and the towering pillars surrounding me gave the space an ancient, almost sacred aura. High above, a massive dome of stained glass stretched over the room, its intricate patterns refracting the faint light that streamed through. The beams cast fractured rainbows across the cold, uneven stone floor, their shifting colours a stark contrast to the oppressive atmosphere that hung heavy in the air.

"Silence," a voice boomed from high above, carrying an air of authority. I looked up to see an elderly woman, draped in a black kimono etched with intricate purple runic patterns. Her presence commanded the room with a quiet yet undeniable power.

The loud clamour of voices from behind me faded into nothing as if her words had cut through the noise, sealing it away. The sudden stillness was unnerving as if the very space itself had bent to her will.

Three people sat on either side of her, but they seemed entirely content to let her lead, their eyes fixed ahead with unwavering focus. The elderly woman raised her voice again, the weight of her words once again settling heavily in the room.

"Today, we sentence Samuel… for high treason and blasphemy against the natural order." 

"He claimed to be a warrior of order, of justice," she said, her voice rising with each word. "But the council has seen no proof to justify his actions. His crimes were gruesome, indiscriminate, and his methods…" She paused, her gaze narrowing as if the very thought of his acts repulsed her. "His methods defied the balance we, and he, sought to protect."

"Whole rural towns fell beneath his might. He even went out of his way to target the most defenceless among them." Her voice grew colder, more resolute. "He claimed these people were somehow corrupted, but after a thorough investigation, we found nothing. The only person who seems to be corrupted is him, and his actions prove it."

She turned her gaze toward the gathered assembly, her presence commanding a heavy silence. "I promise you, the people, that this will be punished. He will be sent to purgatory to face eternal torment." The finality of her words rang through the room, sealing the condemned's fate with an almost chilling certainty.

The whole ordeal was overwhelming. I was being charged with horrendous crimes—crimes I couldn't even remember committing. Of course, I knew why. This was a trial. I was truly in my own body at this moment, but the reality was this was some conjuring of the Ethereal Nexus, a test that bent reality and pulled me into a false state, a place between worlds.

The weight of the accusations pressed down on me like a crushing tide, but beneath the surface, a gnawing sense of unease twisted in my gut. Something wasn't right—details didn't add up, and gaps in the story begged to be filled. It was as though the answers hovered just beyond my reach, obscured by the haze of this ordeal.

Her judgment came swift and final, delivered with the cold detachment of someone accustomed to dispensing punishment. Before I could fully process the words, two guards grabbed my chair—one on each side—and hoisted me into the air as the crowd erupted into a deafening roar of boos and jeers.

The scene was chaos. As I was carried out of the hall, the angry crowd surged, their voices a chaotic symphony of rage and disdain. Outside, the cacophony only grew louder. I was thrust into the streets, flanked by a full platoon of soldiers clad in crisp, imposing military attire. Their presence didn't feel like protection—it felt like containment, like I was a volatile threat they couldn't afford to lose control of.

The city around me blurred as we moved. Streets once bustling with life were now choked with an angry mob, their faces contorted with fury, fists raised in protest. 

Yet, despite the chaos, I couldn't help but marvel at the city's architecture. It was ancient and awe-inspiring, with weathered facades and intricate designs. The runic patterns etched into the walls seemed alive, glowing faintly as if whispering secrets of a bygone era.

As we ascended the winding streets, the crowd thinned slightly, their anger giving way to curiosity or fear as we moved uphill. The outer district gave way to something far grander—a massive golden pyramid rising above the cityscape, dominating the horizon like a monument to power and authority.

Its surface gleamed with an otherworldly light, the golden hue almost indistinguishable from the burning sky above. The structure seemed to pulse with energy, every inch of it adorned with intricate carvings and runes that shimmered faintly, as if the pyramid itself were alive, watching and waiting.

It was clear this was the heart of the city, the epicenter of everything that transpired here. The closer we got, the smaller I felt, dwarfed not just by its sheer size but by the overwhelming sense of purpose that radiated from it.