I am free.

The thought repeated in Thorne's mind, echoing like a triumphant drumbeat. He had tasted victory, sweet, intoxicating, and like nothing he had ever felt before. The weight he had carried for years, the shadow that loomed over every moment of his life, had been lifted.

For a brief, breathtaking instant, it felt like the world was his for the taking.

But the triumph turned to ash in his mouth.

A guttural roar shattered the moment. The ball of flames that had engulfed Uncle burst apart in a violent eruption, embers scattering like fireflies. A hulking figure emerged from the inferno, grotesque and monstrous. Thorne's heart sank as Uncle, a charred ruin of a man, stood before him, his disfigured body trembling with raw, terrifying power.

Somehow, impossibly, he had survived.

Thorne's breath hitched as Uncle staggered forward, a grotesque figure barely resembling the man who had once loomed over his life. His flesh, charred and sagging, clung to his frame like melted wax. Smoke wafted from his body, and the acrid stench of burning flesh filled the crumbling hall. For one agonizing, frozen moment, Thorne dared to hope.

The hope shattered with a deafening roar.

The remnants of the fiery prison imploded, sending embers scattering like shooting stars. Uncle fell to his knees, his burnt lips peeling apart in a low, guttural moan. His eyelids drooped as if he were moments from unconsciousness. Yet, against all reason, his head lifted. His gaze, bloodshot and furious, locked onto Thorne's, his charred lips parted, and a sound clawed its way out of his throat, a guttural, animalistic cry that didn't belong to any man. It should have horrified Thorne, but instead, he stood rooted in place, captivated by the poetic justice of it all.

From his ruined lips came a croaking plea: "Help me."

Thorne didn't move. Couldn't move. He stared, a tumult of emotions warring within him. Uncle had survived. The man who had haunted his every step, the shadow he had hoped to escape, was still alive. And yet... he was broken. A pitiful, ruined creature begging for salvation.

Until the embers rose.

They hovered in the air, small specks of fire igniting with renewed vigor. They converged on Uncle like predators circling their prey, dancing around him before elongating into fiery tendrils. The tendrils wove together, forming a cage of crackling flames. It was a living thing, shrinking incrementally, shearing away at Uncle's already mutilated flesh. The stench grew unbearable, and Thorne's stomach churned. But he couldn't look away.

Uncle thrashed against his bonds, his guttural cries shaking the shattered remains of the hall. His rage was palpable, an almost tangible force that made the air shimmer. And then... it happened.

A red aura began to rise.

It was faint at first, no more than a faint shimmer that clung to Uncle like a fever dream. But with every second, it grew, feeding on his rage. The crimson light pulsed and surged outward, wrapping around his body like living tendrils. The cage of flames hesitated, quivering in defiance, but the red aura seemed to feed on the fire itself, dimming its intensity. The air grew thick with heat and the scent of burnt flesh, but it wasn't just physical heat, something else permeated the space, a suffocating pressure that made Thorne's chest feel like it was caving in.

Thorne took a half-step back, his legs trembling as he watched the transformation unfold. Uncle's muscles convulsed violently, swelling and twisting into grotesque proportions. His entire frame seemed to expand, his shoulders broadening as veins pulsed beneath what remained of his charred skin. His eyes, those bloodshot, lifeless eyes, glowed a brilliant, hellish red, devoid of humanity.

The fiery cage closed in tighter, desperate to complete its task, but Uncle roared, a primal, earth-shaking sound that seemed to split the air. His fists, now swollen and radiating with raw, pulsating energy, slammed into the cage with thunderous force. Each impact sent shockwaves rippling through the room, the flames sputtering and flickering under the relentless assault. The energy in his fists wasn't just strength; it was something darker, something steeped in rage and madness. It wasn't natural.

"No…" Thorne whispered, his voice barely audible against the cacophony. His relief began to wither, replaced by an insidious, creeping dread. Uncle wasn't just surviving, he was becoming something else entirely.

"HELP ME, YOU BASTARD!" Uncle roared, his voice guttural and raw. The words reverberated through the ruined hall, and for the first time, they were laced with desperation. His glowing red eyes bore into Thorne, his monstrous frame heaving with exertion. "USE YOUR POWERS! USE THAT FUCKING AETHER YOU HIDE SO WELL, OR I'LL TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB!"

The words slammed into Thorne like a physical blow. His heart pounded in his chest as the truth unraveled before him. Uncle knew. He had always known. Every secret, every carefully hidden moment of vulnerability, Uncle had seen through it all.

But the realization didn't bring the panic it should have. Instead, it brought anger. White-hot, unrelenting anger.

A deranged smile twisted its way onto Thorne's lips, his glowing eyes narrowing as he met Uncle's gaze. His chest heaved as years of frustration, fear, and humiliation clawed their way to the surface. Every slap, every insult, every cruel manipulation, it all bubbled up, coalescing into a singular, unyielding emotion.

"No," he whispered, his voice trembling with suppressed fury.

Uncle's monstrous form stilled for a moment, the bloodlust in his eyes dimming just slightly.

"NO" Thorne said again, louder this time. His voice was a roar, raw and unrestrained, carrying with it the weight of every grudge he had ever held. "I won't help you! NEVER AGAIN!"

Uncle's eyes widened, the red glow faltering for the briefest of moments. The hesitation was all the fire needed. The flaming tendrils surged inward with renewed vigor, coiling tighter and tighter around his body. The flames climbed higher, wrapping around his arms and legs, binding him in place. His roars of defiance were drowned out by the crackling inferno.

For the first time in his life, Thorne felt no fear. Only satisfaction.

But his satisfaction was short-lived.

The red aura around Uncle exploded outward, a shockwave of raw, violent energy that extinguished the flames in an instant. The fire evaporated, scattering into embers that spiraled upward like dying stars. The force of the explosion sent Thorne stumbling back, his heart lurching as Uncle rose from the wreckage.

The figure that emerged was monstrous. His skin, or what remained of it, hung from his body in melted strips. His swollen muscles pulsed unnaturally, veins like ropes twisting beneath the surface. The red aura that enveloped him pulsed rhythmically, radiating a heat that made the air shimmer around him. His eyes burned with unrelenting fury as his gaze locked onto Thorne.

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"You thought you could win?" Uncle growled, his voice a deep, guttural rasp that barely resembled human speech. "You thought you could be free?"

Thorne stood frozen, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. His mind raced, but no plan, no strategy came to him. He was staring at a force of pure, unrelenting rage, and for the first time, he realized something.

If he wanted to get rid of the man that had control every aspect of his life...

He had to do it himself!

Thorne's breaths came fast and shallow, his chest heaving as he stared at the grotesque form of Uncle. The red aura surrounding the man seemed alive, writhing and pulsing like a living beast, feeding off the fury radiating from him. Uncle's eyes burned like twin embers in a firestorm, and his entire body, though broken and battered, exuded a primal menace that made the air feel heavy. He wasn't a man anymore, he was rage incarnate, a force of unrelenting destruction.

The red aura wasn't just around Uncle; it clawed at Thorne, snaking into his mind, wrapping around his thoughts, and whispering poisonous words in his ear. He felt it pressing against him, stoking a fire he'd tried so hard to keep at bay. Anger, frustration, grief, it all welled up inside him, too fast and too strong. The years of torment and manipulation clawed to the surface, the wounds Uncle had inflicted on him now wide open and raw. Every thought sharpened into one singular purpose: to end this man.

His chest rose and fell as the rage overtook him. He didn't care about strategy, didn't care about caution. The sound of blood roaring in his ears drowned out every other thought. Thorne surged forward, activating Burst of Speed, his body blurring as he closed the gap in an instant. He could barely feel his legs moving, only the overwhelming need to strike, to hurt, to end this once and for all.

Both daggers gleamed in the crimson light, and before Uncle could react, Thorne drove them into his torso with all the force he could muster. The blades sank in deep, embedding themselves to the hilt. For a fleeting moment, silence fell between them, the world seeming to hold its breath.

And then Uncle laughed, a deep, deranged sound that sent a shiver down Thorne's spine. The vibration of it traveled through the daggers in his hands, making his grip falter. Uncle's mangled face twisted into a monstrous grin, blood running freely from his ruined lips.

"That's all you've got, boy?" Uncle growled, his voice reverberating like thunder.

Before Thorne could react, Uncle's massive hand shot out, faster than anything that size had a right to move. His backhand connected with Thorne's torso, a sickening crunch accompanying the blow. At the point of impact, a burst of red energy erupted, the shockwave rippling through the air like a violent pulse.

The world blurred as Thorne was flung backward, weightless for a terrifying moment. Pain lanced through his body, his ribs screaming in protest, as he collided with the remnants of a crumbling wall. The impact sent debris cascading around him, stone and plaster raining down like a suffocating avalanche. He hit the ground hard, the breath driven from his lungs, blood splattering from his lips as he tried to inhale.

Uncle's footsteps echoed in the wreckage, heavy and deliberate, each step sending vibrations through the ground. The red aura flared with each movement, expanding and contracting as though feeding on the destruction. Thorne tried to push himself up, his arms trembling under the weight of his battered body, but Uncle's towering figure was already casting a shadow over him.

"You think those little parlor tricks make you special?" Uncle's voice was a snarl, his lips curling over teeth stained red with blood. "You think you can stand against ME?"

Thorne's muscles screamed as he forced himself to his knees, blood dripping from a cut above his brow. His vision swam, the world tilting unnaturally, but Uncle's voice broke through the haze, sharp and cruel.

"I MADE YOU!" Uncle bellowed, veins bulging like ropes beneath his ruined skin. "Every bit of strength you have, every skill, every kill, you owe it all to ME!"

Thorne grit his teeth, anger and humiliation warring within him. He wanted to fight back, to scream at Uncle, to deny him the satisfaction of breaking him but he couldn't find the words. The red aura surrounding Uncle seemed to press down on him, suffocating, crushing.

"And now you think you can take that strength and use it against me?" Uncle's voice rose, echoing through the broken hall. His face twisted with malice, his bloodshot eyes wild. "You're nothing without me, boy! NOTHING!"

Thorne's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought against the mounting pressure of the aura. Uncle loomed closer, his grotesque form filling Thorne's vision.

"I AM THE KING OF ALVAR!" Uncle roared, slamming a fist into his own chest. The red aura around him pulsed violently, the shockwave making the air ripple like a stone dropped in water. "These lands are mine! This city is mine! I BUILT this empire with my bare hands, and NO ONE, NO ONE, will take it from me!"

He slammed his foot into the ground, the impact sending a tremor through the debris. His red aura exploded outward, its heat palpable even from a distance. Uncle wasn't just a man anymore, he was a force of nature, a storm of rage and destruction, and Thorne was his target.

Uncle's monstrous hand shot forward, seizing Thorne by the hair. Pain ignited at his scalp as he was wrenched from the ground like a discarded toy. The jagged ruins of the room blurred around him as Uncle lifted him higher, a grotesque grin splitting his ruined face. For a brief, surreal moment, Thorne dangled helplessly in the air, before the first punch landed.

The blow struck his jaw with the force of a landslide, whipping his head back and sending stars bursting through his vision. His neck strained against the impact, a sharp crack echoing in his ears. Before he could even draw a breath, another punch slammed into his stomach. The air fled his lungs in a strangled gasp, his body folding like parchment around the brutal force of the hit.

His Aetheric Skin skill flickered into existence, a faint, silvery shimmer wrapping his battered form, but it barely made a difference. Uncle's relentless fists, wrapped in that seething, red energy, tore through the protective layer as if it were nothing but mist.

"You thought you were special?" Uncle snarled, his voice guttural and layered with malice. He twisted his fist in the air before delivering another devastating blow, this time cracking against Thorne's ribs. "You thought your little tricks, your precious aether, made you invincible? Made you better than me?"

Thorne couldn't answer. Blood spilled from his mouth as his body bucked with the impact. He could feel the sharp stab of something broken inside him, his ribs, his pride, his very will. The force of the punch left him dangling limply in Uncle's grasp, his vision swimming as blackness threatened to overtake him. Every breath came shallow and wheezing, and every word Uncle spoke felt like a blade digging deeper into his psyche.

"You're not the only one with power," Uncle growled, his ruined features twisting into something more feral. The red energy around his fists burned brighter, casting ominous shadows that danced across the broken walls. "I have power too! Skills, traits that most men can only dream of! I learned long ago that brute strength and cunning go hand in hand."

With a roar, Uncle raised his fist again. The red energy coiled and flared, concentrating into his knuckles. When the punch landed on Thorne's ribs, the resulting explosion was deafening. A shockwave rippled outward, knocking debris loose from the already-unstable walls and sending a cloud of dust cascading into the air.

Thorne's body was ripped free of Uncle's grasp, flung through the air like a rag doll. The wind screamed in his ears as he tumbled head over heels, the world around him a blur of stone and ash. He slammed into the ground with bone-shattering force, rolling and twisting over debris until his momentum finally stopped. His shoulder struck a crumbling wall with a sickening thud, and he collapsed in a heap, motionless.

He lay there, broken and battered, sprawled in a shaft of moonlight streaming through the fractured rooftop. His breaths came shallow and ragged, each inhale sending jagged pain slicing through his ribs. His blood pooled around him, dark and glistening, painting the shattered floor in streaks of silver. Somewhere in the distance, Uncle's furious snarling continued, but it seemed far away, muffled by the pounding of Thorne's heart in his ears.

Then something shifted.

The moonlight above him seemed to grow stronger, washing over him in a pale, ethereal glow. A warmth spread through his body, soothing and insistent, emanating from the light as it bathed his ruined form. His Lunar Regeneration skill activated, the magic pulling his shattered pieces back together. He felt his ribs realigning, the sharp pain fading as his body began to heal itself. His vision, which had been blurred and unfocused, sharpened as clarity returned to him.

But it wasn't just his body that was healing. His mind cleared, too, the fog of pain and hopelessness lifting like a veil. The pounding of his heart slowed, his breathing steadied, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he could think. He could see.

In that moment, as the moonlight poured into him, everything clicked. Uncle's taunts, his fists, the overwhelming aura of rage and destruction, all of it faded into the background. A single, undeniable truth crystallized in his mind, burning brighter than the red aura that surrounded his enemy.

He wasn't weak.

He wasn't defenseless.

He wasn't merely a victim.

He was something far greater. Something stronger. Something unstoppable.

He was an elder race.

He was Aetherborn.

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