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Chapter 21 – Between Dawn and Shadow

The Shadow Dimension was different that day. The shadows stirred gently, whispering as they crawled along the walls like formless entities. Time did not flow here, the wind had forgotten how to blow; even the stars refused to blink, and the sky remained mute. But V felt a vibration that cut through this silence. As if, for the first time in millennia, the shadows sensed another presence approaching.

He walked. His steps did not touch the ground, but drifted like a tear in the fabric of space. As he advanced through the pillars of his shadow palace—darker than marble—he couldn’t help but admire his own presence. His kingdom was no longer physical; it was the manifestation of an idea, a force, a fear. The Shadow Dimension was the echo of his inner darkness—a celestial reflection of his mind.

And then the air—or whatever resembled it in this realm—shuddered. The shadow-walls did not crack, for there was no matter here. Yet a rift opened: a slash of white, blinding, unbearable light. V instinctively narrowed his eyes. The light itself bore down upon them like a threat.

From that rift, a figure descended.

Its height was immeasurable, for dimension was an illusion on its plane. It was Elyndar—the Lord of Infinite Dawns, born with the first morning, forged by the light of order, a god woven from a thousand suns. Its being was too magnificent for the human mind to comprehend: countless faces gazed in every direction at once, each one bearing infinite expressions. Its eyes held the depth to birth or obliterate civilizations in a single glance. Its body glowed with the golden hue of morning, like an abstract dome dancing upon the thread between dream and reality—neither wholly matter nor light.

V locked his eyes on the being before him, a wave of arrogance rising within as he surveyed it. So this was one of the first awakened ones, he thought.

Elyndar spoke. Its voice did not echo—echo was its voice.

“Born of darkness… How young you are. How hasty.”

V tilted his head slightly, the hint of a smile on his lips.

“Youth is no weakness to one who can bend time. For those like you, writhing in decayed splendor, time tolls like a bell.”

One of Elyndar’s faces smiled. Another frowned in fury. A third winked with mocking disdain.

“Arrogant child. You crown yourself with shadow and defy gods. Destroying you would be simple. But to rule you before crushing you—that would be sweeter.”

V stepped forward. Shadows around him ignited, space cracked.

“I have become one with shadow. Your light is a foreigner in my kingdom. If you wish to rule, you must first kneel.”

Elyndar’s voice rose—not like thunder, but like the scream of time itself.

“I am the Lord of Dawns! When my name is whispered, night melts, and darkness flees! Your kingdom is but a dream trapped between my eyelids!”

V extended his hand, pointing to the void. Shadows surged toward Elyndar in waves, but halted before touching.

“These words… were spoken a thousand years ago by another god. His name is no longer remembered. Your light may shine, but shadows are always more patient.”

One of Elyndar’s faces leaned forward—a face aged, wrinkled, weary, yet wise.

“You are my child. Is not every shadow born of light? Without me, you would not exist. Your very being is bound to mine.”

“But I am no longer your shadow. I am the darkness. No longer a reflection, no longer your opposite—I am the veil that shall consume you.”

Two gods, outside the confines of time, waged war with words. Each word strong enough to open the gates of a universe. Elyndar narrowed its eyes.

“No matter how vast your kingdom, it holds no order. You are destruction. I am the beginning.”

V replied, calm yet defiant.

“Your order was born of fear. You are a tyrant hiding behind obedience. My destruction is for rebirth. You are a god… but I am a legend.”

A silence fell. One that stretched for eternity. The shadows stirred. Elyndar’s light dimmed slightly.

“These words shine with a child’s dream. But dreams have ends, V. You may smother light, but you can never erase it.”

“And you children of light always make the same mistake. You believe yourselves eternal. But even the brightest light tires. Every dawn, one day, vanishes into darkness.”

Elyndar withdrew. One of its eyes cast a long gaze upon V—within it, curiosity, fear, and reverence. In that moment, even Elyndar hesitated.

“Your shadow grows fast, V. But every shadow, eventually, consumes its master. I hope you know what you’re playing with.”

V opened his arms. The Shadow Dimension quaked in darkness. Griffon soared through the sky like a ghost, Shadow curled silently upon a wall, and Nightmare’s presence trembled from afar—distant, but deeply felt.

“I am no longer a player. I am the stage. The fate of this world shall rest not in the hands of gods, but in those who walk in darkness.”

And the light retreated. Elyndar returned to its realm like a piercing scream of brilliance. All that remained was a fading glimmer—and the ever-trembling shadows.

V stood alone with his darkness. He did not look to the sky, for above no longer existed to him. There was only depth, only silence, only power.

And he whispered to himself—

“Who’s next?”