The Pulse Of The Void: Pulse One
Copyright© 2025 by The Void Watcher
Chapter 21: The First Step
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 21: The First Step - Before the first stars learned to burn, the Pulse was born, a living rhythm of creation that binds gods, universes, and mortal thought. In the world of Zena, a single clash reawakens that long-forgotten force. The impact fractures the laws of reality, its echo rippling through distant realms, stirring watchers, worlds, and ancient minds that have slept since the dawn of existence. Now, as the Pulse stirs once more, time bends, empires tremble, and the Void turns its gaze toward creation itself.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa Teenagers Consensual Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual High Fantasy Military Mystery Science Fiction Aliens Extra Sensory Perception Space Were animal Incest Sister Polygamy/Polyamory Black Male Black Female First Oral Sex Petting Big Breasts Size Politics Royalty Slow Violence
Penza- The Guardians Chamber
The forest moved in slow motion, but his heartbeat thundered like a war drum inside his chest.
Then, A sharp gasp cut through the stillness. Zyrian jerked his head up. Nothing moved.
Everything was still trapped in that strange, suffocating slow motion.
And then,
“Zyrian?” The voice wasn’t in the forest.
It was in his head. He froze.
“You ... mystery girl? Is it you?” he whispered, stunned. “Are you okay?”
“Mystery girl...? What do you mean by okay?” The voice was confused.
“A while ago, I felt danger and fear. Was that you?”
Another gasp. “You felt it? But ... why are you panicking? What’s happening to you?”
Zyrian swallowed hard as everything snapped back into focus: the beasts, the fire, his friends dying in frozen time.
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “My powers aren’t working ... my friends are in danger ... but my powers...” He tried again, commanding the air.
Nothing. Only silence.
“What danger? Are you in danger too? And why aren’t your powers working?” the voice fired rapid questions, panic rising.
“I don’t know...” He pressed a trembling hand to the ground. “Let me think.”
“Okay ... but don’t leave,” she whispered, fragile, almost pleading.
“Like I know how to,” he said bitterly.
He clenched his fists, forcing himself to breathe, and tried once more to summon the air. Nothing. Slow motion still clung to everything; the forest locked in a suffocating half-second of time.
He gritted his teeth, shoved his hand toward the blazing ring of fire trapping Cael, willed it to obey, and suddenly, TIME SLAMMED BACK TO NORMAL.
Heat roared. The beast bellowed. Branches snapped. The fire hissed violently.
“FUCK!” Zyrian shouted, staggering.
“What happened?” her voice cracked through his skull.
“I don’t know, everything’s at normal speed again, and they’re in danger, now!”
He jumped to his feet, heart pounding as he saw the fire ripple, but the shift wasn’t his doing. His powers still weren’t responding. And Cael, Cael was still inside the ring.
Cael stood in the centre of the blazing circle, sweat streaming, his core dimming with exhaustion. He’d tried everything, pushing, bending, pulling the fire. Nothing worked.
The flames only burned brighter. Hungrier. He summoned his own fire, hoping to force a gap. The ring swallowed it whole. Anger flared, but quickly drowned in fear. His legs trembled. Heat licked at his skin, even his fire-reinforced body beginning to buckle.
A sliver of fire sparked at his feet, a tiny line responding to him. He grabbed it mentally, tried to coax it upward, and dragged it around. It barely reached his ankles. The ring devoured it.
He clenched his jaw, chest heaving, no more brute force. No more panic. He stared into the wall of flame, eyes narrowing and letting the world blur around him.
His pulse steadied. His mind sharpened. And then, there it was. A connection. A pattern. The hidden rhythm of the fire. He could see threads of energy, streams feeding the flames.
One thread glowed differently, brighter, unstable, that one. He reached for it with his mind, tried to seize it. Nothing.
He pushed harder. The thread wavered, but didn’t break. He tried to rip it. Nothing. Heat bore down on him, crushing.
Think. Not tear. Flow.
Cael exhaled, letting his will loosen. He let his mind drift to the thread, not command it.
Connect with it.
It responded. Slowly. Shakily. Like a tight rope unwinding. The thread shimmered, then drifted toward him, drawn by his fire.
The ring dimmed. He willed it to stop, and it stopped. The flames sank. Brightness flickered. He swept his hand in a slow arc. The entire ring collapsed inward, fire sputtering out as if snuffed by invisible hands.
Silence dropped around him. Cael fell to his knees, gasping, drenched in sweat, chest burning from effort, but alive. Barely.
“Cael.” The voice came from behind him, steady, urgent.
Cael spun. “Zyrian?”
But something was wrong. Zyrian wasn’t even looking at him.
His eyes were fixed far ahead, and Cael followed that line of sight. His blood turned to ice.
“You go to Lyna and Ryra,” Zyrian said, already sprinting toward the beast charging at Nira.
Cael didn’t waste a second. He turned toward the river and froze. Across the water, Ryra was running, desperately trying to reach Lyna.
A beast barrelled straight toward her.
“Shit.” He bolted.
He skidded to a halt at the river’s edge, unable to cross. Lyna turned toward him.
“Cael?!”
“Lyna, do something! Ryra’s in danger!”
Lyna looked back and gasped when she saw the beast closing in on Ryra. She spun to run toward her,
“Lyna!” Cael shouted. “I’ll help! Make a way! Something!”
She nodded shakily. She was already exhausted, and straining against the river had drained her. But she lifted her hands again.
Water roared, full force.
“Don’t force it!” Cael yelled. “Look for a pattern! Something that binds the water!”
Lyna blinked at him, confused.
“That’s what I did...”
But she tried again. She closed her eyes, pushing everything else out: the fire, the beasts, the panic in her chest.
She focused on the river. The rhythm. The pull. The structure. Her pupils glowed faintly as her mind aligned with the water.
And then, click. It all made sense.
She saw the invisible flow, the pressure streams twisting through the riverbed. She reached for them, not with force but with precision.
She pushed her will into the pattern and commanded it to break. At first, Nothing.
Then her core pulsed, hard, and the water wavered. The current slowed. The surface trembled.
Lyna raised her hand and swept it outward. The water parted, carving a clean path through the river.
She gasped, shocked by her own strength.
“That’s it! Hold it!” Cael shouted, already sprinting across the exposed riverbed.
But the longer she held the path, the heavier the burden became, the water pressed back, straining with furious force.
The moment Cael reached the bank. The river snapped shut.
Lyna collapsed to her knees, panting, chest burning.
“You stay the...” Cael turned to warn her. And stopped.
His breath froze. Lyna slowly lifted her head and followed his gaze. She froze, too.
Ryra sprinted across the moss, pushing herself toward Lyna with everything she had. She didn’t even notice Cael or the river parting; her eyes were locked on the beast hurtling in her direction.
She reached the midpoint and planted herself between the beast and Lyna. The beast skidded to a halt, snout flaring, eyes locked on its new target.
Ryra didn’t hesitate. She lunged forward, leapt, and A massive stone palm slammed into her midair. The impact threw her across the clearing. She hit the ground hard, rolled, but forced herself upright with a sharp gasp.
She thrust her hands toward the ground, stones ripped upward and shot at the beast, but they crumbled midair. Fell harmlessly.
“What...?”
The earth beneath her feet rippled like liquid, then hardened, and wrapped around her legs.
Ryra’s eyes widened. She couldn’t move. The beast roared and charged past her, straight toward Lyna.
Ryra flinched, throwing her hands up to summon a wall of earth. Nothing. The ground didn’t respond. It refused her. As if obeying someone else.
Her pulse spiked into terror. She looked around, frantic, no cover, no time. she saw it, the beast lowering its head, preparing to strike Lyna. Panic ignited inside her chest so violently she couldn’t breathe.
She clenched her fists and forced everything she had into the ground. The earth wavered. She saw glowing lines, a faint pattern in the soil, flowing, resisting. Instinct took over.
She reached for the lines, not with brute force, but with intent. The lines responded. The ground surged upward. Stone flowed like liquid metal and wrapped around the beast’s front leg, yanking it sideways.
The beast collapsed with a brutal thud. It thrashed, roaring. Ryra pushed harder, her arms trembling as she raised her hands. More stone burst upward and bound its second leg. Pinned.
---- Ryra looked down at her own feet, stone still gripping her. She exhaled sharply and dissolved the cuffs binding her. The earth obeyed. For the first time since the attack began, Ryra stood free. But exhausted.
Nira stood frozen, her gaze snapping back and forth between the massive stone thundering down the mountain and Uruses below, still fighting, still unaware, still bleeding.
The stone was too fast. Too heavy. Too close. Her mind spiralled.
Think. Do something. Anything.
She threw her hands up, fingers clenched tight, forcing her will outward, trying to stop it, slow it, deflect it. Nothing.
She turned her focus to the mountain itself, straining to raise a wall, a ridge, something in the stone’s path.
Nothing. The boulder didn’t even waver.
Below, Uruses leapt into the air, wind screaming around him, forming a flickering shield as he floated just above the ground. The beast beneath him tilted its head, almost curious, almost mocking.
Uruses hurled a compressed gust downward. The blast slammed into the beast, pushing it back only a few inches.
Only a few. Uruses’ shield flickered. Blood streaked down his side. His breathing faltered.
Nira’s breath caught painfully in her throat. Her eyes snapped back to the rolling stone.
Focus.
She shut everything else out, the beast, the blood, the panic clawing at her ribs, and forced her mind inward.
There has to be something.
Her thoughts snagged on a memory, something she had seen before. A wall of stone ... wavering ... then vanishing.
But how?
Her gaze locked onto the mountain slope and the boulder tearing across it. She tracked the exact point where stone met stone, the friction, the grinding contact, screaming sparks and dust.
Her vision sharpened unnaturally. The rolling stone blurred into patterns. The mountain surface fractured into lines.
Pressure. Force. Binding. She saw it. Thin, glowing threads, lines of tension holding the stone together, guiding its motion, feeding its momentum.
Her heart pounded. She reached for them. Hard. Nothing happened. She exhaled slowly, forcing her hands to relax.
Don’t rip it. Flow.