The ground beneath Arhaan was nothing but scorched stone, cracked and smoking from the wrath of the heavens.
The four new bindings glowed like molten iron, searing into his flesh. His body was twisted under their pull, blood dripping from his mouth. Every breath was agony.
From the cliffside, disciples leaned forward, some pale with awe, others grinning in cruel satisfaction.
"He's finished."
"No mortal could break four bindings at once."
"Even the heavens won't allow it."
Elder Rahn's eyes narrowed, but his grip on his staff trembled. Even he had never seen such resistance.
---
The Breaking Point
Arhaan's vision blurred. His heart thundered, each beat weaker than the last. His chains—his only strength—flickered like dying embers.
Is this it?
The voice of the First Prisoner echoed again, deep and thunderous:
"Chains do not define you. Chains test you. Break them… or vanish like the rest."
Arhaan's hand pressed into the earth. His fingers dug into the scorched stone until they bled.
"No…" he rasped.
"I won't vanish. I won't be erased. I'll… rise."
---
Awakening
The golden chains within him blazed to life, brighter and hotter than ever before. But this time, they shifted—burning with streaks of crimson flame, as if molten blood itself flowed through them.
Gasps erupted from the spectators.
"His chains… they're changing!"
"That's not human! That's—"
The bindings of heaven strained, cracks forming across their radiant links.
Arhaan screamed, his voice raw with fury, with defiance, with pain—
—and the four bindings snapped, one after another, shattering into shards of blinding light.
The valley shook. The heavens themselves seemed to recoil.
---
The Chainbreaker
Arhaan stood in the ruined arena, body broken but unbowed. His golden-crimson chains writhed like living serpents, radiating a power no disciple had ever seen.
He lifted his head toward the storm above and spoke, voice hoarse yet unshakable:
"I am not your prisoner. I am the Chainbreaker."
The storm went silent. For the first time, the heavens did not answer.