Dark Divinity

As Omen struggled across the solitary snowlands, the bitter wind slicing at his exposed skin, he felt a coldness seeping into his chest. The huge expanse of white extended before him indefinitely, a barren wasteland devoid of life and warmth, much like the emotions he sought to reconcile with himself. Each step he made crunched beneath his feet, the sole sound in the otherwise oppressive silence.

He took consolation beneath his favourite withering tree, its skeletal branches stretching out like the hands of the dead, stark against the dark sky. As he sat down, the cold seeped through his clothes, he could not help but wonder if it was all worth it.

His thoughts returned to Tenebris, the sunless plains he had previously called home. He never genuinely loved it there—how could anyone enjoy a place void of sunlight? Despite its limitations, Tenebris had become his universe. In his own way, he cared about the people there and the life he had led.

His thoughts drifted to the Emperor, his father, who had never given him affection, only contempt and cruelty. The Emperor's animosity for him was only rivalled by that of his elder brother. Yet, amidst all the enmity, there had been pockets of light in his life. He thought of his younger sister, her laughter like a melody in the oppressive gloom, her innocence a rare treasure in their dark world. And his mother, who consistently kept him close, sheltering him from the most awful aspects of his father's rage and offering consolation when the weight of his failures weighed heavily on him. They were the ones who made life pleasant, giving him a cause to keep going even when it seemed pointless.

Omen sighed; his breath visible in the freezing air. He missed them all—the maids who had cared for him without judgment, the manservants who had obeyed him with loyalty, and most of all, his trainer. That man had seen potential in him when no one else did, pushed him beyond his limits, and refused to give up on him, even when Omen himself believed he was a failure.

But here he was, far from the sunless lands and the dusk forests where he had once found a twisted beauty in the shadows. The recollections of those dark woods, with their twisted trees and constant sense of danger, filled him with a profound, aching need. Omen closed his eyes as the chilly breeze howled through the withered branches above, allowing the bittersweet and haunting memories to wash over him.

His attention turned to the sky, where the two crimson suns performed a leisurely, celestial dance. The image was eerily beautiful, one of the few oases of serenity in an otherwise chaotic environment. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to admire it, to take in the last remnants of calm before everything was thrown into the maelstrom of the purge.

Omen put on the Obsidian Aegis plate with a steady grasp, the black scales draping over his body like a second skin. The armour was a work of art, its surface glittering with an artificial brilliance that appeared to absorb the light surrounding it.

As he stood, he felt the last seconds pass, the atmosphere around him intensifying with anxiety. The transition was small yet noticeable, like the calm before the storm. The purge had begun.

Omen's heightened senses allowed him to perceive the intricacies of the portal's formation in a way he hadn't before. The air around him shimmered with translucent energy, the portal essence wrapping around him like a cocoon. The sensation was almost comforting, a soft hum that vibrated through his very bones as he prepared to be whisked away to the next deadly arena.

But as he activated his exogene sense, something caught his attention—a faint, almost imperceptible pulse nestled in his shoulder. It was subtle, just a whisper of energy that most would overlook, but Omen's experience and instincts screamed at him to take notice. His mind raced as he focused on it, peeling back layers of exogene to reveal its true nature.

'Blood magic!'. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, his pulse quickening as he recognized the telltale signs. He had seen it before, and felt its sickening aura in the presence of the Empire's blood mages, those high-ranking darklings who wielded power over life and death with terrifying precision. 'One of the masters or acolytes had been a darkling!'

The implications were immediate and chilling. This wasn't just any mark; it was a tether, a tool that allowed its creator to track him, to summon him at will. He could be plucked from any location, any situation, and thrown into another by someone else's whim.

'When had they planted it in him?' He never slept, not even in the bunkers only during the purges. The only time they could have done this was when he first arrived. He had been a fool to think he was unnoticed; to believe he was just another piece in their twisted game. They had been watching him all along, observing his every move, his every struggle. The realization brought a cold fury to the surface, his thoughts darkening as he understood the full extent of their control.

He would need to find a way to remove it, to sever the connection before it could be used against him. For now, though, he had to play along, to act as if he was none the wiser. As the portal essence completed its work, the world around him began to dissolve, the familiar sensation of being pulled through space taking hold. Omen steeled himself, the cold determination in his chest solidifying into a plan. Whoever had marked him, whoever thought they could control him, would soon find out just how dangerous a mistake they had made.

…..

The world snapped back into sharp focus. He found himself sitting on a rocky beach, the coarse stones pressing uncomfortably against his legs through the obsidian armour. He blinked, adjusting to the sudden change in scenery, and slowly rose to his feet. The very first thing he noticed was the wide, limitless sea extending out before him, its dark waves merging with the distant horizon in a smooth, frightening line. His keen vision struggled to see beyond the waves, yet the sea's vastness appeared boundless, a deep pit that absorbed the sky.

"I was correct!" He laughed with satisfaction, knowing that his preparations had not gone to waste. Too bad he was unable to tell his roommates. He turned back and saw a thick tropical rainforest bursting with life. The stark contrast between the chilly, rocky shore and the lush, green forest was unsettling, almost bizarre.

Upon first sight, the woods appeared to be like any other: enormous trees with broad foliage, vines dangling lazily from branches, and the environment rich with melodies of birds chirping and minute critters scurrying through the undergrowth. But as Omen's eyes focused to take in the details, a frightening revelation dawned on him.

A sparrow drew his attention, perched innocently on a low-hanging limb. It pivoted to glance around, its sparkling gaze surveying the area. But as the little bird moved, Omen's stomach seized in dread. The second portion of the creature's body was mutilated, leaving a gruesome exhibition of exposed parts. He could see the sparrow's heart still pumping and its abdominal organs trailing from its open side like bloody ribbons. The bird seemed completely unfazed, hopping from branch to branch as if nothing were amiss.

Omen's breath caught as his eyes whipped around, analyzing the other abominations in the vicinity. A shrew scrambled over the woodland surface, its fur matted and flesh chunks absent, divulging exposed bones and muscular tissue. A primate swung through the branches, a single arm dangling on a string of cartilage, the flesh hanging off like tattered fabric. The forest was conscious, indeed, but it was deformed and ruined, a horrific denigration of creation.

"What the hell is this place?" Omen muttered under his breath, a deep unease settling into his bones. The beauty of the rainforest had become something nightmarish, each creature a walking contradiction of life and death. It was as if the very fabric of reality had been torn, leaving these animals caught in a limbo between existence and decay.

Omen knew he couldn't stay here long. The longer he remained, the more he felt the oppressive wrongness of the place pressing down on him. But he couldn't leave yet, not until he had found and defeated the sea monster that could break the armour's curse. He needed to gain sea abilities similar to the armour, it wasn't his intention to die by his armour no matter how cautious he was But even as he switched his concentration towards the water, prepared for the harvest, the image of the mutilated bird persisted in his memory.

Omen paused at the water's edge, icy waves lapping at his feet, reconsidering his decision to go into the sea. The more bizarre and terrifying the creature, the greater its potential for him to steal its power.

His mind made up, Omen activated all his sensing abilities. [Exogene sense] flared to life, his vision sharpening to a hyper-focused clarity as he scanned the sea before him. He could feel the faint pulses of energy emanating from the depths, the presence of life lurking just beyond sight. The sea was alive with possibilities, each creature a potential key to unlocking new strengths.

With a final glance at the clear sky, Omen stepped forward slowly, took a deep breath and then, with a burst of courage, he dived into the abyss.

The world underwater was dark and disorienting, the sunlight filtering through the surface in broken beams that danced across the seabed. At first, his eyes struggled to adjust, but his [exogene sense] kept him anchored, guiding him through the murky depths. He swam deeper, the pressure building around him.

Then, he felt it. A disturbance in the water, subtle at first but growing stronger with each passing second He was unable to see the thing, but the vibrations in the water indicated its existence. He smiled slowly as he realized what this entailed, the vibrations in the water signalling its presence. A slow grin spread across his face as he realized what this meant.

"Invisibility," he thought, the word echoing in his mind like a triumphant bell. "What a jackpot." The profile of the creature became clearer in his mind's eye, with the activation of [thermal sense] no living creature could escape his sight. Its massive form slicing through the water like a silent predator. It looked like a giant fish, but as the details came into focus, Omen noticed something far more unsettling. Where its eyes should have been, there were instead two long, black arms—humanoid in shape, but twisted and bizarre. They extended outwards, moving with a serpentine fluidity that made Omen's skin crawl.

The thought of the abilities he could gain from such a creature fueled his excitement, the potential overwhelming the fear that gnawed at the edges of his mind. This was the first time he was taking the offence of hunting a predator instead of always running from them.

'It was time to hunt'