Chapter 102: A Battle of Wills
Malakor’s face contorted with rage. His calm, confident mask shattered, revealing the raving lunatic beneath.
He had expected fear, doubt, or at the very least, a little bit of respect for his cosmic power. Instead, he got boredom. It was the ultimate insult.
"You dare mock the voice of the Schism?" he shrieked, his mind-voice now a sharp, painful spike. "You are an insect, a creature of rigid, pathetic order! I will show you the glory of chaos! I will break your mind and unravel your soul!"
He threw his arms wide, and the chaotic energy of the Monolith surged into him. The ground beneath Ryan’s feet suddenly turned soft and rubbery, like he was standing on a giant trampoline.
It buckled and warped, and a dozen thick tentacles made of black, corrupted rock erupted from the earth, whipping towards him from all directions.
Ryan didn’t flinch. He simply stomped his foot. "Impose: Stability."
A wave of pure, orderly energy radiated out from him. The rubbery ground instantly became solid, unyielding stone again. The rock tentacles froze in mid-air and then crumbled into dust, their chaotic energy completely neutralized by his simple command.
From behind him, in their protective circle, his team watched in awe.
"Did he just... tell the ground to stop being weird?" one of the Sanctuary Wardens whispered, her eyes wide.
"I think he did," Zara replied, a slow, admiring smile spreading across her face. This was a level of power she had never conceived of. It wasn’t just technology or magic; it was a fundamental command over reality itself.
Malakor, furious that his first attack had been so easily dismissed, tried a different tactic. He focused his psychic power, weaving a new, more potent illusion.