Primordial of Black

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Blanc's carefully constructed composure faltered for a split second as the cavern walls shuddered violently. Dust rained down from the obsidian ceiling, and a low rumble echoed through the chamber, shaking the very table beneath their breakfast plates. Veldora, ever the showman, threw his head back and laughed, a sound that boomed like thunder.

"Looks lively out there!" he bellowed, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement.

Reinhard, however, shot Blanc a questioning glance. "What was that?"

Before Blanc could answer, the tremors intensified, culminating in a deafening CRACK as a section of the obsidian wall near the chamber entrance exploded inwards. A torrent of dust and debris filled the air, momentarily obscuring the source of the destruction.

Then, from the swirling cloud, emerged a whirlwind of blonde hair and golden energy. Jaune, the Primordial of Yellow, stood amidst the wreckage of the wall, her short, bristling with chaotic energy. She wore a simple black skirt and a yellow leather jacket, the outfit a stark contrast to the formal attire of the others. A broad, savage grin split her face, revealing a set of sharpened canines.

"Well, well, well," she boomed, her voice dripping with sardonic amusement. "Looks like the party's already started! Did someone forget to send out an invitation?"

The dust settled, revealing Jaune in all her glory, standing amidst the wreckage of the wall. Her golden eyes, usually filled with a carefree apathy, now sparkled with a predatory gleam.

Blanc rose to her feet, her silver eyes narrowed in a mixture of annoyance and grudging respect. "Jaune," she greeted coolly. "An…unorthodox entrance."

Jaune let out a hearty laugh. "Just making sure no one dozes off during these oh-so-important meetings, Blanc!" she declared, gesturing towards the ruined wall with a cavalier wave of her hand. "Besides, who needs doors when you have a grand entrance like this?"

Veldora roared with laughter, his amusement clearly contagious. Even Reinhard, despite his usual stoicism, cracked a faint smile at Jaune's theatrics.

Blanc, however, remained unfazed. This was Jaune, after all, a being who thrived on chaos and reveled in a good fight. "Welcome, Jaune," Blanc stated, her voice firm. "It seems the news travels faster than anticipated."

Jaune sauntered towards the table, completely ignoring the destruction she caused. "News of a new face, especially one as powerful as that dragon over there," she said, jabbing a thumb towards Veldora, "travels faster than a demon on a sugar rush!"

Veldora puffed out his chest, clearly enjoying the attention. Reinhard, on the other hand, simply shook his head in exasperation.

"So," Jaune continued, her gaze now fixed on Blanc, "what's the occasion? Are we finally going to have a proper brawl, or are we just going to stand around sipping tea and discussing existential dread?"

Blanc sighed, a hint of weariness creeping into her voice. It seemed a peaceful meeting with the other Primordials was becoming increasingly unlikely.

Jaune's boisterous laughter was abruptly cut short as a high-pitched giggle echoed through the chamber. A streak of violet light shot through the newly created breach in the wall, slamming into the opposite obsidian wall with a sickening thud. Dust rained down once more, obscuring the source of the newest interruption.

As the dust settled, a figure emerged, coughing dramatically and brushing debris off her purple pigtail. Violet, the Primordial of Violet, stood precariously, her porcelain doll-like features twisted in a pout. Her long, flowing dress, the same vibrant violet as her hair, was now adorned with a layer of obsidian dust, and a smear of red marred her cheekbone.

"Oh, how frightfully uncouth, Blanc!" she whined, her voice laced with mock-hurt. "Not inviting your dearest friends to such a delightful gathering? A little warning would have been nice, wouldn't you agree?"

Her gaze flitted across the chamber, landing on Veldora. Her pout instantly morphed into a mischievous grin. "My, my, my," she cooed, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. "A new plaything has arrived, it seems! How exciting!"

Veldora, who had been thoroughly enjoying Jaune's antics, bristled at Violet's words. A vein throbbed on his forehead as he glared at the diminutive Primordial. "Plaything?" he boomed, his voice echoing through the cavern. "Don't you dare call me a plaything, you little…!"

Before he could finish his tirade, a massive hand, encased in a golden gauntlet, shot out. Violet, for once lacking her usual agility, could only offer a squeak of surprise before the blow connected with a resounding SMACK across her face. The force of the slap sent her flying, tumbling through the air like a ragdoll before crashing against the rubble at the base of the broken wall.

A stunned silence descended upon the chamber. Jaune, for once, looked speechless, her mouth agape. Reinhard stared at Veldora, a flicker of amusement battling with disapproval in his eyes. Blanc, ever stoic, simply raised an eyebrow.

Veldora, chest puffed out, bellowed a challenge. "Anyone else want a piece of me? Now's your chance!"

The silence stretched, thick with tension. Then, a slow, deliberate clapping echoed through the chamber. A figure emerged from the debris, a single hand pressed against her bloody cheek. Violet, her face pale and eyes narrowed, was no longer the picture of childish whimsy.

"Well played, Dragon," she said, her voice devoid of its usual childishness, replaced by a steely edge that sent shivers down Jaune's spine. The playful glint in her lavender eyes had been replaced by a cold, predatory gleam. "Perhaps you're not such a dull plaything after all."

The air crackled with barely contained power, a clear warning. Blanc, realizing the precarious situation, cleared her throat, a barely concealed sneer twisting her lips as she surveyed Violet's pathetic state.

"Well, Violet," Blanc's voice dripped with icy sarcasm, "it seems a proper introduction is in order, wouldn't you say? Given your…current state of enthusiasm, perhaps you're finally interested in a real meeting?"

The tension in the chamber vibrated, a delicate balance between chaos and fragile order. Blanc, the ruler of this territory, had regained control, but the unexpected arrival of the Primordials had irrevocably altered the course of the day.

Violet glared at Blanc, the sting of the slap lingering on her cheek alongside a newfound respect for Veldora's raw power. She wasn't a fool. Charging in like a bull in a china shop wouldn't win her any favors, especially with Reinhard, the strategist, likely already formulating a plan to contain both her and Veldora if things went south.

Swallowing her pride, Violet straightened her dress, the childish facade replaced by a begrudging acceptance. "Fine," she conceded, her voice tight. "A meeting it is. But this little...encounter," she shot a venomous glare at Veldora, "will not be forgotten."

Veldora, still fuming but clearly enjoying the attention, simply chuckled, the sound echoing through the cavern. "Bring it on, pipsqueak," he rumbled.

Blanc, ever the diplomat, ignored their bickering. "Excellent," she said, her voice firm. "Then let us proceed to the designated meeting room. We have much to discuss."

Jaune, who had been watching the exchange with amusement, chimed in. "Finally! A proper meeting and maybe even a little brawl afterwards? Now that's what I call a productive day!"

Despite the chaos of the morning, a semblance of order returned. Blanc, with steely determination, led the way towards the designated meeting room. Veldora, still boasting, followed closely behind. Reinhard, ever the silent observer, trailed after them, his expression unreadable. Jaune, practically bouncing with barely contained energy, brought up the rear. Violet, the former picture of childish whimsy, now walked with a measured pace, a predatory glint simmering in her lavender eyes.

As they traversed the cavernous halls, the tension in the air crackled with unspoken threats and simmering power struggles.

The heavy oak doors of the meeting room groaned open, revealing a starkly furnished chamber bathed in an ethereal, blueish light. A long, obsidian table dominated the center, flanked by imposing chairs carved from the same dark stone. Blanc gestured for the Primordials to take their seats, her gaze lingering for a moment on Violet, whose bloody cheek still bore the mark of Veldora's temper.

As everyone settled in, an uncomfortable silence descended upon the room. Jaune, ever the embodiment of impatience, shattered it with a loud thump of her fist on the table.

"Alright, alright," she boomed, her golden eyes flashing with a hint of annoyance. "Let's get this over with. What's the point of this meeting anyway? Can't we just introduce ourselves to these…guests and be done with it?"

Blanc gritted her teeth, the informality of Jaune's request grating on her nerves. It seemed Jaune, lost in her usual desire for chaos, was the only one who didn't grasp the gravity of the situation. Taking a deep breath to maintain her composure, Blanc addressed the Primordials, her voice firm and unwavering.

"The purpose of this meeting," she began, her gaze sweeping across the room, "is to discuss the arrival of Veldora and Reinhard in our domain. Their presence here, while unexpected, has significant implications for the Underworld."

A flicker of curiosity crossed Reinhard's features, while Veldora simply leaned back in his chair, a bored expression on his face. Violet, however, remained impassive, her purple eyes fixed on Blanc.

Blanc continued, her voice gaining intensity. "These two newcomers are beings of immense power. Their actions, their decisions, can have a profound impact on our very existence. We must understand their intentions, their motivations, and ensure their presence does not disrupt the delicate balance of the Underworld."

She paused, letting her words sink in. "This is not a mere formality, Jaune," she concluded, her voice laced with a hint of steel. "The fate of our domain rests on the outcome of this discussion."

Just then, the sound of a flamboyant flourish cut through the air. The heavy oak doors swung open with a dramatic flourish, revealing a figure who seemed to have stepped out of a forgotten fairytale.

Standing in the doorway was a man, tall and slender, with a flamboyant air about him. His black hair was streaked with vibrant crimson and gold, mirroring the colors of chaos and royalty. His golden eyes, with red pupils and black sclerae, held a mischievous glint, and a wide, charming smile graced his face. He was dressed in a prince-like outfit, complete with a velvet cape and a cravat adorned with a sparkling ruby. This was Noir, the Primordial of Black.

"Well, well, well," he boomed, his voice surprisingly deep for his slender frame. "What a delightful gathering we have here! Did someone forget to send out an invitation, or was this a private affair?"

Blanc, momentarily taken aback by Noir's flamboyant entrance, sighed. "Noir," she said, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "We were just about to begin."

Ignoring Blanc's mild annoyance, Noir swept into the room, his cape billowing dramatically behind him. He stopped in front of the table, his gaze flitting across the assembled Primordials. A playful grin spread across his face.

"Ah, introductions then!" he declared, clapping his hands together. "Excellent! I do love a good introduction. Allow me. I am Noir, the Primordial of Black, at your service!"

A collective groan rose from the other Primordials. They were used to Noir's theatrics, but his whimsical nature often clashed with the seriousness of their meetings. Blanc, however, steeled herself. With Noir's arrival, the situation had become even more unpredictable, and she knew it would take all her diplomatic skills to navigate this gathering of powerful and capricious beings.

Ignoring the reactions of the others, Noir swept into the room, his cloak billowing behind him like a storm cloud. He reached the table and took a seat with a flourish, his smile still wide. It was then, as his gaze swept across the chamber, that his eyes landed on Reinhard.

A change flickered across Noir's face, the playful grin replaced by an expression of something akin to awe. He leaned forward, his golden eyes, usually filled with mischief, now held a curious intensity. The air around him crackled with a sudden, unexpected energy.

Before anyone could react, Noir did something completely out of character. With a surprising display of reverence, he dropped to his knees in front of Reinhard. His prince-like attire pooled around him like a dark puddle on the obsidian floor.

Everyone in the room stared, stunned into silence. Blanc's brow furrowed in confusion. Jaune, ever the brawler, looked as if she were about to burst out laughing. Violet's eyes narrowed, unsure of what to make of this sudden display. Even Veldora, for once, seemed genuinely surprised.

The object of Noir's sudden reverence, Reinhard, remained impassive. His gaze, usually sharp and assessing, glinted slightly in surprise. This unexpected display, from the most unpredictable of the Primordials, had even the stoic tyrant momentarily off-guard.

"And you are…?" Noir asked, his voice hushed with an unfamiliar respect. It was the most serious anyone had ever heard him speak. "Forgive me for my tardiness, but the grandeur of your presence momentarily escaped my notice. May I inquire as to your esteemed name?"

The weight of Noir's question hung heavy in the air. The other Primordials watched, bewildered, as their usually whimsical companion displayed such reverence for this newcomer. The question of who Reinhard was and why his arrival had such a profound effect on Noir remained unanswered. This unexpected development had shifted the focus of the meeting, and Blanc, for the moment, could only watch as the enigmatic Primordial of Black sought answers from the stoic overlord.

Then, a flicker of something unexpected crossed Reinhard's face. The stoic lines softened, replaced by a hint of a genuine, albeit rare, smile. A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, sending shivers down the spines of some of the Primordials. It was a sound that spoke of power held in check, of a storm waiting to unleash.

"Intriguing," he finally said, his voice deep and resonant like the tolling of a distant bell. "The demon race is not so hopeless after all, at least one has managed to catch a glimpse of a fourth of my potential."

The words struck Blanc and the others like a physical blow. Reinhard's power, even a fraction of it, was a force to be reckoned with. Yet, here he stood, acknowledging Noir's perception with a hint of…approval?

Noir, for his part, practically glowed with exhilaration. His eyes widened even further, the red pupils gleaming with an almost manic intensity. A wide, ecstatic grin stretched across his face, splitting his cheeks almost ear to ear.

"A fourth!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with an almost childlike wonder. "Oh, esteemed sir, you underestimate my keen eye! I daresay I have glimpsed a mere fraction of the potential that burns within you, a power that could reshape the very fabric of existence!"

He bowed deeply, his hands pressed flat against the obsidian floor. "A privilege, truly, to be in the presence of such…grandeur!"

The other Primordials exchanged nervous glances. Never had they seen Noir behave in such a way. His usual theatrics seemed almost tame compared to this display of unbridled enthusiasm. Jaune, unable to contain herself any longer, let out a snort of laughter that quickly died down under the combined glares of Blanc and Violet.

Reinhard raised a hand, silencing the overenthusiastic Primordial. "Your perception is…interesting, Noir," he said, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Perhaps, at a later time, we can discuss this…potential you speak of."

Noir's eyes widened further, if that were possible. He practically vibrated with excitement. "A later time? You…you would grant me such an audience?"

A hint of a genuine smile graced Reinhard's lips. The amusement in his eyes deepened. "Indeed," he said. "But for now, I believe we have more pressing matters at hand."

He turned his gaze towards Blanc, his expression turning serious once more. "Your explanations, while somewhat…disorganized," he said, "have been sufficient. The state of this realm is…unfortunate, but not beyond redemption. Consider the existence of the Underworld…tolerated, for now."

A collective sigh of relief swept through the chamber. Even Veldora, who had remained largely indifferent throughout the meeting, seemed to perk up at Reinhard's pronouncement.

"However," Reinhard continued, his voice sharp with warning, "this…tolerance comes with a condition. The demon race will remain under observation. Any further transgressions, any disruption of the balance, and your fate will be swiftly and decisively sealed."

He glanced pointedly at Veldora, whose bored expression had morphed into a cocky grin. "The fate of this particular…individual," he said, referring to the True Dragon with a hint of disdain, "is left to your discretion. Deal with him as you see fit."

The implication was clear. Veldora's freedom, or lack thereof, rested entirely on the shoulders of the other Primordials. A spark of defiance flickered in the Dragon's eyes, but he remained silent, a tense silence hanging in the air.

With a final curt nod, Reinhard rose from his seat. A faint crackle of energy filled the chamber as he turned towards the doorway. "This…gathering," he said, "is concluded."

Without another word, he turned and strode out of the room, his powerful presence leaving a lingering echo in his wake. The heavy oak doors swung shut with a resounding thud, leaving the Primordials to grapple with the aftermath of his visit.

The meeting room remained silent for a moment, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, a single, booming laugh shattered the silence. Veldora, the ever-chaotic Storm Dragon. threw his head back and roared with delight.

"Freedom!" he bellowed, the word echoing through the chamber. "Finally, some entertainment!"

The other Primordials exchanged wary glances.

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