The Prison Within.

In the distance lay a prison, its iron bars bound by multiple chains that led to a glowing runic lock. As Mammon approached, he felt an overwhelming pressure radiating from the structure, but since this was a space within his mind, he countered it with his own will. Each step brought him closer to the lock, its faint hum resonating like a heartbeat in the void.

When Mammon reached the prison, he noticed something unusual, a handprint embedded into the lock's surface. Curious, he pressed his palm against it. The runic symbols began to glow intensely, pulsating with energy. The sound of heavy rumbling echoed around him as the chains began breaking one by one, clattering to the ground.

The lock's brightness dimmed as it detached itself from the prison and hovered in the air before gently landing in Mammon's hand. It disintegrated into vapor, disappearing as if absorbed into his being. He didn't focus on it, he was only concerned about what lied ahead.

Upon entering the prison, streams of glowing particles floated in every direction, their soft light illuminating the space. The particles began to gather, forming a vibrant cluster.

Drawn to it, Mammon extended his hand, feeling an immense surge of power as he touched the particles. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through his mind, similar to what he felt when he was forming his mana heart. He staggered, but the pain subsided, leaving him breathless.

He looked at the cluster and saw that only a small chunk had deducted from the cluster as he stood up.

Mammon stared at the glowing cluster, feeling the immense power radiating from it. An idea formed in his mind, the particles weren't just particles, they could be mana or something and the foundation of something greater.

With a deep breath, Mammon placed both hands over the cluster, and began, letting the particles respond to his will. They vibrated and pulsed, growing brighter and brighter as they resonated with his energy. The white void around him flickered, reacting to the surge of power.

Images filled Mammon's mind, landscapes, structures, and possibilities. He realized that the cluster was raw energy, waiting for a something to give it purpose. Gritting his teeth, he concentrated on shaping the space into something meaningful. It was hard at first, but given the kind of resolve he had, he continued.

The white emptiness around him shifted and transformed as the particles dispersed, spreading outward like a ripple in a still pond. Ground formed beneath his feet, solid yet shimmering with ethereal light.

Skies of soft hues stretched above him, their colors ever-changing like a dreamscape. In the distance, mountains rose, rivers flowed, and a radiant tree with glowing leaves sprouted at the center of this new realm.

Mammon stepped back, awestruck by the transformation. This was no longer just a void. It was a sanctuary, a realm forged by his will and infused with his essence. The glowing cluster had become the heart of the radiant tree, its energy pulsing faintly within. As long as the tree thrived, so too would this world.

He closed his eyes, willing himself back to the physical world. The white space around him dissolved, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself lying in a bed. Astranor sat nearby, his head bowed in quiet thought

Mammon tried to sit up, but Astranor's sharp voice stopped him.

"Hey, don't move," Astranor said, leaning forward.

"What happened? Why am I here?" Mammon asked.

"You were doing that which you were doing. Then you started clutching your head and screaming before you passed out." Astranor shook his head, his tone more scolding than concerned.

"I carried you here and put that napkin on your forehead because you were sweating buckets."

"I see," Mammon muttered, pulling off the damp napkin and attempting to stand.

"Arrgh," he groaned, clutching his head as a sharp pain flared up.

Astranor smirked knowingly. "You're fine, huh?"

Mammon forced a weak smile. "I'm fine."

Astranor's expression didn't change. "Kid, look at me and then at yourself. Which one of us is older? You can't fool me."

"Alright, you caught me. It still hurts... a little," Mammon admitted.

"Now that's more like it. Come on." Astranor rose from his chair, motioning for Mammon to follow.

They walked to a wall in the corner of the room. Astranor rapped on it twice, and the surface trembled lightly before rotating in a smooth 360-degree motion, revealing the library beyond. Mammon stood dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open.

"Hey, don't get lost in the moment," Astranor said, snapping Mammon out of his awe.

'What kind of monster is he?' Mammon thought as he followed the old mage.

Astranor stopped at a dusty table and placed a single finger on its surface. The dust rose into the air, gathering into a small sphere before vanishing completely. A soft click echoed as the table split open, revealing rows of vials and glowing potions.

Mammon stared, utterly dazed. Astranor's every action seemed wrapped in mystery, each moment more surreal than the last.

Mammon remembered he hadn't done what any other player would have done if they had met Astranor. He hadn't scanned Astranor for his detail ever since they had met.

Status:

Name: Old Man Astranor

Level: 50

Grade: Special

HP: 100'000

'Damn, so overpowered,' Mammon thought, his jaw tightening in disbelief.

Astranor glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Hey, could you stop that?"

"Stop what?" Mammon asked, trying to feign innocence.

"You know exactly what. I can feel it when you scan me," Astranor replied, arching a brow.

"You can?" Mammon blinked, genuinely surprised.

"Yes," Astranor said, folding his arms. "Almost every strong individual or creature can feel a scan, and let me give you a word of advice, most don't take kindly to it."

"I see," Mammon said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Good. Let's focus on why we're here." Astranor's tone softened as he turned back toward the assortment of potions and artifacts revealed by the table.

Mammon watched in awe as Astranor carefully sifted through the items, his movements deliberate and precise. After a few moments, Astranor's hand stopped over a small vial that contained a blue shimmering liquid.

"What is that?" Mammon asked, intrigued.

"Something that can help you." Astranor replied.

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A/N: Sorry for the late chapter, I was down with a serious fever, and I couldn't write and chapters, deeply sorry for that.

I would greatly appreciate comments and suggestions about the story at any point. I would also appreciate your honest reviews.

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