Unmade Chapter 32: Chapter 32: Eternally Imprisoned

Read chapter 32 of Unmade by churro on NovelPedia.

Vale’s body was sinking, slowly folding toward the crimson surface beneath him, as his gaze clung stubbornly to the chained man towering over him. He had struck with everything he possessed, every shred of strength, every ounce of will, every last thread of defiance. He had even torn himself into Nirvana, a place mortals were never meant to reach, just to amplify that final blow. And yet… the man had not moved. Not an inch. A deep frown carved itself onto Vale’s blood-streaked face. His hand trembled as he lifted it, and something shifted, an obsidian shard clattered from his fingers. Only then did he see what it was: a fragment of the chained man’s mask. The upper right quadrant of the obsidian faceplate had shattered like brittle glass, crumbling to dust in Vale’s palm. Beneath the broken edge of the mask, exposed for the first time in ages, was pale skin… and a single golden eye burning with the light of divinity. Before Vale’s body could fall too far, the chained man caught him by the arm and lifted him effortlessly, as though Vale weighed nothing at all. Vale’s vision blurred. Consciousness slipped like sand between his shaking fingers. But he heard the man’s voice, steady, resonant, almost gentle. “You won.” It was absurd. Impossible. Yet the words struck Vale harder than any blow. A faint smile tugged at his half-conscious lips before fading again as his eyes drifted shut. His body, broken, torn, and missing an arm, finally surrendered to the darkness he’d been holding back. He deserved rest. So the chained man granted it. With surprising care, the man lowered Vale onto the surface of the blood-sea. The crimson liquid held the boy aloft, supporting him as though recognizing his victory. A short distance away, a white reptilian creature, barely the size of a large dog, came sprinting toward them, claws tapping across the coagulating sea. Its ember-bright eyes burned with worry. Ember reached Vale and lowered its head to his chest, instinctively sensing his state through their bond. Relief flickered in the creature’s eyes. The chained man, meanwhile, stepped away. He walked a dozen meters or so, then stopped. Slowly, he sank to a seated position, facing the endless horizon where the three great Eidolons were beginning their slow return. With a quiet breath, he touched the broken remains of his mask… and removed it fully. His true face was revealed, pale, sharp, severe, and beautiful in a way only something not-quite-human could be. He held the shattered mask in both hands, studying its fractured surface with a somber stillness. And in a low, grieving tone, he whispered: “I am sorry, Thalia.” Time passed. The sea rippled quietly as Vale’s body began its restoration. His missing arm regrew, the weapon it once held fusing seamlessly with his returning limb. Muscle fibers extended like living threads, weaving themselves together, pulling bone to bone and flesh to flesh until the reconstruction was perfect, almost as if the arm had never been severed. Minutes later, Vale’s eyelids twitched. Then opened. He stared upward at the five dark suns hovering above him. Their gazes, if such beings could stare, felt heavy and oppressive, yet somehow familiar. He pushed himself upright, his legs shaking violently under him. Ember let out a low sound and moved to steady him. “Ember…? What happened…?” Vale murmured, voice weak and raw. He rose gradually, his steps uncertain, his body not yet reacquainted with itself. But with each hesitant stride, his stability returned. Ember watched him with concern, eyes flicking to every tremor, every wobble. Vale circled the empty plane, confusion weighing heavily on his expression, until he froze. Ahead, seated before the horizon, was a man with countless blades protruding from his back, clad in half-shattered armor. “There you are…” Vale breathed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He stumbled forward, Ember occasionally catching him when his legs failed him. Something inside him still wasn’t right,