Lord Shadow

The reverberations of powerful mystical magic and explosive energy blasts filled the air, their awe-inspiring force transforming the space into a maelstrom of chaos. 

Time seemed to bend and stretch, and the very fabric of reality appeared to warp under the weight of the escalating conflict.

Yet, despite the relentless onslaught, the physical structure of the Senate remained resolute. 

Unbeknownst to the combatants, a formidable safeguard lay hidden beneath every meticulously crafted tile and brick. 

Etched into the foundation of the Senate building was a profound protection formation, its purpose now unfurling in response to the turmoil.

As the battle waged on, an ethereal transformation gripped the entire Senate complex. 

A translucent dome, shimmering with an otherworldly luminescence, enveloped the once-exposed interior. 

Like a veil of invincibility, the dome provided an impenetrable shield

The moment an attack was registered within the Senate building, the sentinel energy of the protection formation stirred into action.

  An intricate web of magical sensors and arcane mechanisms discerned the threat, instantaneously triggering the activation of the safeguard. 

It was thanks to the foresight and meticulous planning of the Senate’s architects, ensuring the preservation of this esteemed institution in the face of danger.

Within the dome’s embrace, the reverberations of destructive forces were muted, contained by the impenetrable barrier. 

The battle continued to unfold, but the integrity of the Senate building remained unyielding, standing as a symbol of stability amidst the tempestuous clash of wills.

Amidst the chaotic battleground of clashing factions, destruction ran rampant within the once-stately Senate building. 

The rebel faction led by Boris and his allies engaged in a fierce struggle against their adversaries, wreaking havoc with their unleashed elemental powers. 

Fire consumed the southern wing, leaving trails of scorching devastation in its wake. 

Lightning crackled and danced through the north, ravaging the surroundings with its electrifying force. 

The east witnessed the clash of ice and water, transforming the once-dignified halls into a frozen, flooded labyrinth.

The protective dome safeguarded the physical structure of the Senate building, its robust defences preventing collapse, but the interior was not spared from the rapid onslaught of destruction. 

The grand chamber, adorned with historic artifacts and priceless works of art, now suffered from the onslaught of merciless battles. 

Swords cleaved through space, rending it asunder with each strike.

  Sabres left deep rifts upon the ground and gashes upon the once-immaculate walls. 

The echoes of these clashes resounded through the hallowed halls

Amidst the cacophony of destruction, Boris, consumed by the impending danger, remained unaware of the chaos that unfolded around him. 

His attention fixated solely on the horde of senators rushing toward him, brandishing gleaming daggers with malicious intent.𝑶𝗏𝐋xt.𝗇𝓔t

  These were the very individuals who had emerged victorious over his supporters, now seizing the opportune moment to close in on Boris himself. 

Unbeknownst to him, hidden figures lay in wait, ready to spring forth and ambush him once his defenders were sufficiently occupied.

A profound sense of helplessness washed over Boris in that crucial moment. 

The weight of his predicament bore down upon him, realization dawning that his current circumstances were dire and escape seemed fleeting. 

The tide of battle surged, and Boris found himself caught in its tempestuous grasp, his fate teetering on a precipice of uncertainty.

And then the dagger all came down on him. 

“Stop this and I could still forgive you!’ Boris shouted. But the Senators did not even listen as they keep trying to stab him

He tries to deflect the daggers but the dagger seems to pierce him. 

To be more accurate, the dagger pierces through him. Like the dagger itself is something that could phase through solid object

He tries to fight but the method of his enemies is very mysterious. Boris ability is mostly his physical strength and his ability to summon beast and control beast.

There is a reason why his title is the Beast King. But for some reason, he could not summon his familiar or his other beast of control

His physical body also seems…weak. Like it is slowly being drained out of its power. And he could tell that this has something to do with the dagger that is struck onto his body. 

Like an absorbing dagger that absorbs energy from him

‘Go away!’ Boris shouted as he punches a few Senators that tries to pin him down. His punch and his fling of his hand create gust of wind and a few people who are weak was flung away

But there are some that stands their ground and is very much sturdy. 

He punches, he kicks and he tries to pull out the dagger. But Charlie did not let go and even when he tries to kick Charlie, Charlie could evade him while his hand still holding the dagger that stabbed him. 

Boris could see in a glance that the dagger is special and it probably need contact for it to work the way it did, taking his energy as long as Charlie holds the dagger while the dagger is in his body. 

But as his strength become weaker not before long there is all kinds of daggers stuck on his body. Some are stuck in his hand; some are stuck on his back and while he bleed he did not feel pain

Like the dagger itself is the plug that keep the pain from registering in his mind

Boris stood frozen in sheer astonishment; his eyes wide with disbelief. 

The events unfolding before him seemed to defy all logic and reason. 

A bewildered cry escaped his lips as he questioned the mysterious powers at play. “What kind of enchantment is this?” he exclaimed, his voice carrying a mix of awe and agitation. 

Deep down, he knew he wouldn’t receive an answer, yet his desperation pushed him to seek one nonetheless. 

His state of disarray and shock was palpable, emanating from his trembling form.

As the echo of Boris’ voice faded within the Senate Hall, a resonant response pierced the air, seeming to emerge from the very fabric of the room itself. 

The source remained elusive, a disembodied presence that commanded attention. “Bind!” the voice proclaimed, its authority resounding throughout the chamber. 

In an instant, Boris found himself compelled to kneel, as if an invisible force had taken hold of his being. 

His descent was abrupt and forceful, causing the tile beneath his knees to shatter under the weight of his submission. 

A sickening snap accompanied the impact, as his shoulder bones succumbed to the overwhelming pressure.

Imprisoned by an unseen power, Boris now lay motionless on the unforgiving floor, his limbs rendered powerless. 

His body, once full of vitality and agency, had become a vessel of confinement. 

The bewilderment in his eyes persisted, trapped within the depths of his gaze, as he grappled with the unfathomable nature of his predicament.

Azief sighed, his gaze fixed upon the unfolding memory of Boris’s capture and the dire situation he found himself in.

“This is why Boris should not have been so impatient. Though I somehow understand his motivation. If he had enough power however his reforms could very well be implemented without ending like this” he thought for a second. 

As the memory continued, Azief assumed a peculiar role, akin to a game master with the ability to pause and unpause the events within. 

He halted the memory, suspending the action momentarily, and effortlessly levitated above the Senate floor. 

Peering down, he attempted to discern the faces of the Senators who populated the memory, only to find their features frustratingly blurry. 

His eyes scanned the ground, searching for the familiar sealing formations, but to his surprise, there was nothing to be seen.

Returning to the ground, Azief’s feet made contact with the intangible tiles beneath him.

  Their ethereal nature felt precarious, as if the very foundation of the memory could crumble at any moment.

Reminded of the illusory nature of the scene, Azief reflected that, being a construct of Boris’s recollections, this memory could only provide what Boris himself knew or had perceived.

“It is just a memory, after all” Azief mused to himself, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “What Boris didn’t know, this memory couldn’t know either.” 

Drawing from the fragments he had witnessed, Azief felt a growing certainty that the reason behind Boris’s plight lay hidden within the sealing formations beneath the tiles

Azief gaze shifted towards the intricate web of conspirators within the Senate. 

The complexity and meticulousness of their plan became evident as he pondered the lengths they had gone to accomplish their objectives. 

The task at hand must have required a significant investment of time and effort.

He contemplated the arduous process involved in their scheme. 

The conspirators had to meticulously replace the tiles, ensuring that the changes went unnoticed and raised no suspicions among the Senate’s security measures. 

Moreover, they had to meticulously manipulate the energy lines connecting to the Senate, ensuring they remained intact and inconspicuous, allowing their plot to unfold without detection.

Azief recognized the significance of Boris’s presence within the sealing formation. 

It was a crucial element in their plan, allowing them to execute their attack with precision and effectiveness. 

Had Boris been any other Senator, the conspirators would not have needed to navigate through such intricate obstacles. 

The depth of their machinations became clear, driven by a desire to remove Boris from power without sparking a full-scale conflict between Pandemonium and The Republic.

A wry smile graced Azief lips as he pieced together the puzzle. 

“So, they went through all of these convoluted hoops and even crafted a brand new sealing formation just to capture Boris, to weaken him without crossing the line of assassination,” he mused. 

The conspirators had treaded carefully, meticulously ensuring that Boris remained a formidable yet subdued figure, unable to retaliate with full force.

Their intent was clear—to remove Boris from the equation, dismantling his influence while avoiding the explosive consequences of an all-out war.

Azief sigh escaped his lips as he muttered the word “Unpause.” 

The memory resumed its course, unfolding exactly as he had anticipated. 

As Boris remained trapped within the sealing formation, the process of his confinement continued. 

Azief eyes focused intently on the scene, observing the progression with a mix of resignation and understanding.

True to his expectations, the runes etched upon Boris’s body began to glow intensely, radiating a luminosity that seemed to sear through his clothing. 

The mystical symbols sealed him tightly, further ensuring his power was suppressed and his ability to resist diminished. 

Charlie, seizing the opportunity, took Boris away, the captive figure being led to an undisclosed location—perhaps a secret black site within the depths of the Republic.

Those who had been loyal to Boris, witnessing his capture, unleashed a torrent of insults and grievances. 

Their voices echoed with the bitterness and defeat common to those who had been outmanoeuvred in a power struggle. 

The familiar refrains of frustration and resentment filled the air, a testament to the weight of their loss. 

Alongside Boris, his loyal supporters were also taken away, their fate shrouded in uncertainty within the depths of the Republic’s clandestine operations.

As the memory progressed, the outcomes varied. 

Some met their demise in the chaos of battle, their lives extinguished in the pursuit of their cause. 

Others chose to surrender, their freedom granted under the condition of relinquishing their allegiance. 

The choices made by each individual dictated their ultimate fate.

Azief watched these events unfold, his gaze steady but laden with a mix of empathy and resignation. 

The complexity and consequences of power struggles were never without casualties 

With a final sigh, Azief observed the scene 

As the weight of the momentous event within the Senate memory settled upon Azief thoughts, he couldn’t help but ponder the obliviousness of the city of Moscow to the seismic shift occurring within its very heart. 

Outside the Senate building, snow continued to fall, softening the landscape with its gentle touch. 

The streets below remained alive with the familiar rhythms of daily life, bustling with the ebb and flow of ordinary existence, completely unaware of the irreversible change that had unfolded within the halls of power.

The memories that he is seeing right now is being patched with other people memories. 

He must say that Sasha did a very good job in crafting these memories fragments so that he could really feel like a third-party observer with many scenes that he could look at. 

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