Most people started simple. A stable mineral, a safe structure. Something low-risk. But Ian wasn't most people.
In his palm now sat a piece of dark blue material, almost black in certain light. Its surface shimmered faintly, like starlight caught beneath ice.
He brought his focus in. Threads extended from his fingertips forming patterns that probed and twisted the material's shape. Under his will, the fragment bent, stretched, broke apart, and reformed.
This is Obryx. Ian's choice.
Obryx is basically a synthetic isotope of an element. As a result of a lab incident gone wrong someone discovered that when exposed to stellar storms it forms an extremely hard material. It's known for its extreme hardness, yet startlingly light weight. Once formed, it could withstand extreme conditions, heat, pressure, energy storms and cold temperatures. In its completed state, it was almost unbreakable. Nowadays it is formed synthetically in conditions mimicking stellar storms.
The true power of Obryx lay in something far more intricate: its phase alignment. When Obryx is formed, its quantum phase is determined by the fluctuations it is exposed to during its creation. This phase is what gives the material its exceptional properties. The only known way to break it is by inducing an opposite phase fluctuation, but to do so, one must first understand the exact phase with which it was originally created.
Although Obryx wasn't easily found, this was Rulmose, a hub of high-grade space and military research. The academy here was involved in countless projects, many of them classified, and its connections stretched far and wide. Hence for Ian it wasn't difficult. He had pulled a few favors from here and there, using his ties to acquire numerous variations of Obryx in different phases.
Obryx was nearly unbreakable, but of course, the truly powerful could still shatter it with ease. Methods like Subspace Annihilation, Anti-Matter Reversal, or even space distortions could break it, but those were techniques only the truly strong could wield. Even High Scholar Durlan, a Third Order, was incapable of breaking Obryx, though that didn't mean Ian could be fearless. While he couldn't break the material itself, there were still plenty of ways to bring Ian down if the need arose.
Because of the phase variation, the structure of Obryx is complex, which makes it difficult for even third-order Architects to manipulate or understand. However, Ian's Mindbloom gave him a significant advantage. It allowed him to understand and work with the material's inner structure. He could sense the intricate vibrational states, giving him insight into how to align and manipulate it.
But none of that mattered for now. Ian had his own path. His experiments with Obryx were progressing. The material in his hands shifted under his command, the particles realigning themselves as he focused his will. He could feel the vibrations, the minute fluctuations in the structure, responding to his mind. Each shift of the material was like working with living tissue, each moment an intricate dance of precise intention.
Still, it wasn't perfect. He muttered under his breath, "Still not smooth enough..." The material was almost there, but it needed fine-tuning, just a little more.
But Ian wasn't in a hurry. Each experiment brought him closer to understanding Obryx on a deeper level.
Myrra entered the room quietly. She wore a pair of satin, black shorts that hugged her hips, the fabric smooth and glimmering under the light. The shorts were cut high, revealing her toned legs and adding a casual yet alluring edge to her appearance. Her top was a sleeveless, strap nightwear cami, trimmed with delicate lace along the neckline and edges, the silk-like fabric clinging to her skin with an effortless grace. The deep, rich black of the material contrasted beautifully with her fair, almost porcelain skin, giving her an ethereal, seductive presence. She quietly makes her way towards Ian.
"What's this?" she asked, noticing the Obryx fragments scattered before him.
Ian didn't answer immediately. His fingers brushed the Obryx aside, a swift, almost dismissive motion, as though it could wait for now. He straightened up, his focus shifting to her as he turned. "I'm preparing. I'll be entering the First Order soon."
Myrra's eyes lit up with excitement, a warm smile tugging at her lips. "That's wonderful," she said, moving toward him with purpose.
Without hesitation, she climbed into his lap, straddling him as she leaned in for a soft, lingering kiss. Her fingers tangled into his hair as she pulled back, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Once you're done with all this," she whispered, "I'll give you a reward."
Ian's lips curled slightly at the corners, but he didn't let the moment linger. His voice was low, almost teasing. "Why wait! I want my reward now."
Before she could react, he swept her into his arms with effortless ease. His movements were fluid, confident. Within moments, he carried her across the room, and with a smooth motion, laid her down onto the bed. The soft thud of her body meeting the mattress was the only sound in the quiet room.
Myrra looked up at him, her eyes dark with anticipation. She watched as he loomed over her, his muscular frame casting a shadow on her body. He leaned down, and his warm breath brushed against her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Her pulse quickened, and she felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach.
Ian's mouth found hers again, and this time, his kiss was not gentle. It was hungry, demanding. His tongue slid between her lips, exploring her mouth with a passion that was almost overwhelming. She moaned softly, her body arching up to meet his. His hand slid down her side and came to rest on her hip, his thumb tracing the line of her shorts, sending waves of heat through her body.
With a sudden, decisive movement, he pushed her cami aside, exposing her perfect, round breasts to the cool air of the room. He took one in his mouth, his tongue flicking over it, teasing it. She gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He chuckled against her skin, moving his attention to the other one. Each touch, each kiss was like a spark, igniting a fire that was quickly consuming her.
Her body was responding to him in ways she never thought possible. Her back arched, pushing her breasts into his face. He took advantage, sucking harder, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. She moaned, her hips rolling up to meet his. He could feel her heat, the wetness of her desire seeping through the fabric of her shorts.
Her hands found the hem of his shirt, tugging at it impatiently. He broke away from her breasts. He pulled the shirt over his head, revealing the sculpted athletic body.
With eager hands, Myrra explored his bare skin, her fingertips tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the warmth and strength beneath. He took her wrists in his hands, pinned them above her head, and leaned down to kiss her again, his body pressing hers into the bed.
His mouth trailed down her body, kissing and licking every inch of her smooth, soft skin. He nibbled on her neck, making her gasp, then moved to her collarbone, his tongue tracing the line of her neck to her chest. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin just above her breasts, causing her to moan and squirm beneath him. He took his time, savoring each moment as if it were their last, building the tension between them to a fever pitch.
The tension in the room was thick with desire. Myrra's breath hitched, her body craving Ian's caress. He tenderly trailed kisses down her stomach, pausing at her navel to tease it with a soft flick of his tongue. The dampness spreading on her shorts was a testament to her growing arousal, and Ian could almost taste the warmth emanating from her. With a gentle tug, he slid his thumbs beneath the elastic of her shorts, gradually revealing the treasure hidden beneath.
Their eyes locked, and with a single nod from Myrra, Ian understood the depth of her consent. The world outside faded away, leaving only the sound of their mingled breaths and the silent dance of passion between them.
----
Morning sunlight spilled gently through the curtains.
Ian stirred first, his eyes blinking open to find Myrra curled against him beneath the sheets. Her black hair spilled across his chest in a soft, tangled mess, her breathing deep and even. One arm draped loosely over his waist, her bare skin warm where it touched his.
He smiled, eyes lingering on her sleeping face, so peaceful now, in contrast to the fire she'd shown the night before. Moments of heat flickered through his mind, and his fingers traced an idle line down her back, drawing a quiet sigh from her lips.
Myrrra stirred. Her blue eyes fluttered open slowly, taking in the position she was in, the warmth, the soreness in her body, the memory of what they'd shared. A flush spread across her cheeks, and without a word, she slipped further beneath the blanket, hiding her face against him.
Ian chuckled under his breath. "Hiding already? After all that?"
She gave a muffled protest from under the covers, which only made him grin more. With a stretch and a shift, he wrapped an arm under her knees and lifted her up with ease.
"Come on," he said, standing with her in his arms. "We've got places to be."
Myrra squeaked, holding on as he carried her toward the bathroom. Steam soon rose from the water, the soft sound of laughter echoing between tiled walls. They bathed together in quiet intimacy, the morning slow and unhurried, before emerging to face the rhythm of the day ahead.
The day passed without incident, though the air between Ian and Myrra felt warmer, closer. She moved slower than usual, still slightly sore, but wore it with a quiet smiles. They didn't talk about the night, but the way she brushed against him more often, lingered a little longer, made it clear something had changed.
As nightfall cloaked their world, Ian and Myrra found themselves frequently succumbing to their fiery desires. Their days started to meld into one another, each one punctuated by the heated intensity of their nightly rendezvous. And soon Ian was ready for his promotion.
Currently, he was seated in a quiet room within the Arcane Engineering sector, having reserved one of the secluded chambers designed specifically for breakthrough attempts. The room was circular, its walls lined with layered circuits meant to stabilize ambient energies. Subtle geometric patterns pulsed faintly across the floor, reacting to his presence and thoughts. Above, soft lighting emanated from fixtures tuned to soothe the senses and enhance focus.
Sitting cross-legged at the center of the room, Ian arranged the Obryx fragments neatly before him. Beside him rested a small glass vial of Whisperroot Sap, its faint shimmer catching the light. Whisperroot Sap, a psychoactive extract from a rare forest tree, was long used by ascenders who follow paths based on mental energy. It was often favored by wizards and architects alike for its ability to map mental constructs and aid in its creation. Obryx would be more demanding than most materials, harder to align, more energy-intensive to bind. He might not need it, but it was better to be prepared.
Ian exhaled slowly, uncorking the vial and letting the sharp, earthy scent steady his breath
Eyes closed, mind relaxed, Ian let silence take him. Thoughts stilled. Breathing slowed.