Chapter 71 – Shattered Chains of the Immortals
The Shattered Chains were a place forgotten by time, hidden within the boundless stretch of the cosmos. It was a celestial prison that suspended in a place between the living and the dead, a jagged monument of pure oppression, where the immortals bound those who defied them. These chains were forged not of metal or steel, but of fear, despair, and the very essence of death itself. A prison beyond the reach of mortals, crafted by the hands of gods, to hold that which could threaten their reign.
Rin's arrival at the Shattered Chains was not by chance. The First Wound had left behind a tear in the cosmos, and in the wake of its collapse, the immortals, terrified by the reality he had unleashed, had moved swiftly to protect themselves. They feared the power of freedom, of true death that was unbound by their laws. In this prison, they locked away the souls of those who had the potential to dismantle their divine order. Souls that could challenge death's very boundaries. Souls like Rin's own.
Floating before him, the prison's immense structure loomed—a series of islands drifting through a fog of sorrowful mist. Each island was connected by chains of obsidian, glowing with the faintest flickers of imprisoned energy. It was an endless labyrinth of torment, stretching far beyond what mortal eyes could comprehend. On each island, the echoes of screams, of lost hopes, and of crushed wills resounded—silent, yet deafening. This was the reality the immortals had crafted to ensure their immortality, to quash any defiance.
Rin's eyes narrowed, his breath steady. Every fiber of his being resonated with the chains' power, each link a prison of shattered wills. He had already severed one cycle of death, but this was different. These were the immortals' final line of defense. If he could not break their hold here, they would forever be free from the weight of death.
He stepped forward.
The first soul he encountered was a figure bound to the island closest to his path. Her form was draped in chains that shimmered with an unholy light, her spirit worn and broken. Her eyes, though clouded with the centuries of torment, held a glimmer of recognition.
"Who... are you?" Her voice was barely a whisper, yet it cut through the oppressive silence of the prison.
Rin paused before her. His heart stirred with an emotion he had long since buried—sympathy. It was a fleeting feeling, one quickly buried beneath the cold resolve that had come to define him. This was not about saving the lost, but about seizing the power he needed to topple the immortals. But even so, he could not turn away from the soul trapped before him.
"I am the one who will free you," Rin said, his voice deep and unyielding. His Death Core thrummed in response to the chains' energy, recognizing the pattern of oppression that radiated from it.