The Abyssal portal stretched endlessly, its fractured landscape unfolding like a nightmare made real. Jagged cliffs drifted through crimson skies, rivers of molten essence carving canyons through floating islands. The wind howled with the cries of unseen monsters, yet, strangely, the path ahead remained empty.
Drax walked alone. Each step was deliberate, his cloak trailing like a shadow that swallowed the light. His mind was calm — analyzing, calculating. Every quiver of the ground, every subtle flicker of energy in the air, he registered. The portal was dangerous, yes, but he had walked through death itself before.
> The monsters are hiding… waiting.
He reached the final chamber. The massive gates loomed before him, carved from obsidian-like stone veined with glowing red. Beyond them, a vast throne room revealed itself, stretching impossibly into the distance. It was a cathedral of shadow and blood-red light.
And there they were.
Thousands of high orcs — each towering over a man, their eyes glowing with crimson essence, armor etched with runes of unknown power. The sheer number pressed against him like a tidal wave. At the center of the room, atop a blackened throne carved from obsidian and bone, sat the High Orc King — Ragaroth the Spellbinder.
Ragaroth's presence was overwhelming. His staff pulsed with dark energy, spells weaving around him like snakes of fire and lightning. Even from this distance, Drax could feel the oppressive weight of his inner world — one stabilized and honed over decades of battle.
> High Orcs are tough… but their king… this is something else.
Drax's gaze drifted downward. His dagger had been left behind in the previous fight — meaningless here.
He didn't panic. Not at all.
He reached inward. His Abyssal World responded immediately, roots coiling and shaping themselves, forging a blade from living black essence, its edge shimmering like liquid shadow. The air around him shivered. The black tree at the core of his world pulsed, feeding the blade with the collected essence of every monster he had devoured.
> Not just a weapon… a part of me.
The Abyssal blade sang in his hand, a whisper of power that promised annihilation.
Ragaroth raised his staff, a storm of fire and lightning spiraling around him.
> "You dare step into my domain, mortal?" His voice boomed, echoing against the vaulted chamber. "Do you even know the price of crossing a King of Inner Worlds?"
> "I've already paid it," Drax said dryly, stepping forward. His eyes glimmered, white as bone, pupils rimmed with black. "And you're next."
The high orcs stirred, claws scraping the stone floor, growls vibrating through the chamber. But none moved forward — not yet. Their king's aura commanded obedience.
> Inner Worlds, Drax thought. Each of them is a universe in miniature. Strength isn't just raw power — it's control, adaptation, and the ability to bend the essence within your domain to your will. My Abyssal World… is infinite.
He flexed his fingers. The black blade extended slightly, almost like it had a mind of its own, shaping itself with every pulse of his power.
> "And what makes yours infinite?" Ragaroth spat, summoning a ring of fire and arcane runes around him.
> "I devour," Drax said simply. "I adapt. I am the ruler of everything I touch."
The orcs roared, and the room exploded in chaos — spells, fire, and dark essence colliding with waves of Abyssal energy. But Drax didn't flinch. He stepped forward, the black blade slicing through the air with precision. Every step made the essence of his inner world pulse outward, subtly bending the battlefield to his will.
Drax's mind raced, though not verbally. Every awakeners' Inner World is a reflection of their essence compatibility.
Stabilized Inner Worlds: Give the user control over their essence, allowing creation, manipulation, and combat amplification. The stronger the Inner World, the more life and structure it can hold — forests, cities, armies, or even intelligent beings.
Unstable Inner Worlds: Like Lyra's earlier state, they can't contain raw essence, causing mental strain, physical damage, or comas.
Abyssal Inner World: Unique. Drax's Abyssal World devours essence and can integrate the essence of other Inner Worlds. Every creature absorbed can evolve into a being under his dominion. The world itself responds to his thoughts — forming weapons, barriers, and creatures instantly.
He adjusted his stance, black roots forming around the floor, ready to constrict anything reckless enough to approach.
> I don't need fear. I only need control.
Ragaroth's gaze sharpened. He flicked the staff, and a wave of arcane energy shattered the chamber, sending floating debris spinning. Drax moved effortlessly, the Abyssal blade cutting through the air, devouring residual magic. Each absorbed spell strengthened the essence inside him, feeding the black tree, widening his world.
He could feel it — the All-Father ability responding. His dominion extended even into this unstable A/S-rank portal.
> "So… this is the big league," Drax muttered, stepping into the storm. "Good. I've been itching for a real fight."
And with that, the first clash of Abyssal power and a King's Inner World began — black essence against arcane fire, infinite adaptability against disciplined magic, and the stakes higher than ever.