Deep within the tunnel—
He climbed.
A massive figure.
Crawling along the walls of a wormhole that bent space around him.
On his back—
A bipedal tiger in a butler's attire clung tightly—
half his size—
refusing to let go.
Memories flickered.
A child's voice.
Soft.
Bright.
"Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket… save it for a rainy day…"
The scene shifted.
A little girl danced—
laughing—
spinning—
arms outstretched.
"Daddy! Look at me!"
She jumped—
becoming a star.
For a moment—
he forgot everything else.
"SIR—!"
The tiger's voice snapped him back.
"I KNOW THAT ENERGY!"
Reality returned.
He moved instantly.
His body expanded—
darkness consuming form—
pressing outward—
filling the tunnel completely.
Abyssal Form — 45%
The tiger grew with him—
claws digging into the walls—
locking in—
becoming a brace—
a second anchor.
Then—
impact.
Something slammed into his back.
Heavy.
Violent.
He held.
Barely.
Even with everything—
he slid.
Claws scraping.
The walls tearing under pressure.
The tunnel itself resisted.
Then—
stillness.
They stopped.
For a moment—
everything held.
Then—
the tiger faltered.
His strength vanished—
all at once.
His grip slipped.
And he fell.
Down.
Into the abyss below.
No way back.
No chance to recover.
No energy left.
He didn't scream.
Didn't struggle.
He knew.
This was it.
His only regret—
He never got to see her.
The child his Master cared for.
The one thing that kept him sane.
So he let himself fall.
Into the dark.
…
The deeper he fell—
the smaller he became.
Shrinking.
Condensing.
Until—
He was nothing more—
Than light.
[WARNING]
A voice echoed.
Loud.
Ancient.
[LIMIT BREACHED]
[RETRIEVAL ACTIVATED]
The falling stopped.
Instantly.
The light hovered—
spinning—
once—
twice—
Then launched upward.
Faster than his fall.
The darkness reacted.
Angry.
Hungry.
Tentacles lashed out—
trying to grab—
to consume—
But the light burned.
Brighter.
Stronger.
Untouchable.
It climbed.
Returning.
—Above—
The Abyssal Being felt it.
A familiar presence.
Returning.
The light struck his back—
And merged.
White lines spread across him—
like molten energy—
forming a pattern—
A figure.
The tiger.
Restored.
Bound.
Alive.
—The Father—
He looked down into his hands.
A silver mass.
Multiple bodies—
merged—
distorted—
clinging together.
Nine pairs of red-orange eyes stared up at him.
He moved them aside carefully.
Searching.
Then—
he saw it.
Blue eyes.
Familiar.
Protective.
And within their grasp—
Her.
Hair shifting like flame—
white—
blue—
gold—
red—
alive.
He leaned closer.
Studied her.
Poked—
once.
Nothing.
Still asleep.
"This won't do…"
The mass tensed.
The one holding her—
growled.
A flicker of bloodlust.
Tiny.
Fierce.
He paused.
Then smiled slightly.
"…Adorable."
Like a creature guarding something precious.
A puppy protecting its favorite thing.
He shifted—
something tugged at his awareness—
a brief flash of light behind him—
then gone.
He exhaled.
"Hold on to her, little one."
His voice dropped.
Cold.
Sharp.
"…or I will tear you apart if you fail."
The response was immediate.
The figures tightened.
Protected her more closely.
The blue eyes nodded.
Good.
—Punishment—
He shifted his footing—
finding a crack—
left behind from earlier strain.
Then—
he moved.
A single step.
Downward.
His foot struck something.
Soft.
Living.
It screamed.
Tried to escape—
Failed.
Its body crystallized—
trapped—
compressed—
Forced into form.
It trembled.
Afraid.
Before him.
"You will pay."
His voice wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
It was the kind of sound—
darkness itself feared.
"You will guard this entrance."
The creature froze.
"You will feed on the Council when they come."
Silence.
"And when they are gone…"
A pause.
"…you may live."
Hope.
Terrible.
Fragile.
He inhaled deeply—
pulling energy inward—
compressing it—
Then exhaled.
Violently.
—Detonation—
The prison erupted.
The turtle shell—
imploded—
then exploded outward.
Energy flooded the galaxy—
then vanished—
Consumed.
Rewritten.
Reshaped.
At the boundary—
a membrane formed.
Crystal.
Unbreakable.
Alive.
And within it—
A presence.
Watching.
Waiting.
Feeding.
The creature obeyed.
Its form warped—
fur dissolving—
becoming tendrils—
a tiger-shaped mass of hunger.
It fed.
Slowly.
Patiently.
Exactly as ordered.
Waiting—
For the Council to arrive.