ã€ŠDeep Down Your Black Heartã€‹


 Chapter 1 - Be Alone. Lose Yourself!

    The author''s journey is the focus of Chapters 1 through 5, while the story''s plot begins in Chapter 6.

    This book contains raw, unfiltered content and may include graphic descriptions that some readers may find disturbing or offensive. The material presented is intended for mature audiences and is meant to provoke thought, not to offend. Reader discretion is advised. By continuing, you acknowledge that you are aware of the explicit nature of the content.

    This book is a glimpse into the inner workings of my mind, a place shaped by my experiences, trauma, and my habit of maladaptive daydreaming. It is raw, unfiltered, and unpolished¡ªa reflection of the world as I perceive it, distorted and amplified by the layers of my thoughts. The pages you are about to read are not just words on paper; they are fragments of my reality, constructed from the vivid landscapes of my imagination and the weight of my past.

    What follows is not meant to be comfortable or easily understood. It is simply the world as I see it¡ªa world built from the broken pieces of my mind.

    <hr>

    Chapter 1

    Be Alone. Lose Yourself!

    Humans are social creatures¡ªor so they say. But not everyone gets to experience companionship. Not everyone gets to have friends. Not everyone gets to feel parental love, romantic love, or even platonic love. What happens when a social creature is stripped of everything that involves socializing?

    First, he craves. He does anything within his capabilities to form bonds and connections. He fumbles, then tries again. Then again... and again... until desperation turns into a cruel routine. He stops, watches, and mimics how others connect, only to fail, again and again. Envy follows. A sharp, unbearable envy. Watching others laugh, touch, and love feels like staring into the sun while trapped in the shadows, leaving a searing ache behind his ribs.

    Days blur into weeks. Weeks into months. Months into years. Then comes acceptance. Humans are social creatures¡ªthey¡¯re not meant to be alone. But when forced into a corner for long enough, he adapts. He must.

    There are two forms of acceptance.

    The first leaves him hollow. It shreds his self-image, corrodes his confidence, and drains any value he once held in himself. He becomes desperate for the smallest sliver of acknowledgment¡ªa glance, a word, a touch to prove he¡¯s still alive. He caves in entirely, and what¡¯s left is an empty shell of a person.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    He stares into the mirror, his face as hollow as his soul, eyes void of light. His body is marked by deep, jagged cuts, crimson rivers spilling over the white tiles of the bathroom floor. The knife trembles in his hand, its blade slick and glistening. Slowly, he presses it against his chest, above the hollow where his heart should be. Blood drips down his torso in slow, deliberate lines, staining his skin like ribbons of despair.

    But in the mirror, his reflection twists. His lips curl into a grotesque grin, a bloodied smirk that betrays his humanity. He is no longer human¡ªno longer a social creature. The emptiness inside has consumed him, reshaping him into something unrecognizable. A man without humanity, without empathy, without need. Voices whisper sweetly in his ears, companions created by his own shattered mind. Hallucinations replace family, friends, and lovers.

    The second form of acceptance is far more violent. It leaves nothing behind.

    He stands before the mirror, his face pale, his expression void of emotion. Blood flows freely from deep gashes carved across his skin, pooling on the cold black tiles below. The knife in his hand shifts, trembling, before he thrusts it violently into the soft space between his ribs. He coughs, blood spraying against the mirror. The pain is excruciating, searing like fire, but he doesn¡¯t stop.

    He pulls the knife out with a sickening squelch and plunges it back in, harder this time, his body convulsing with each brutal motion. Blood gushes out in waves, coating the floor, his hands, the walls. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his heartbeat a deafening drum in his ears. He stabs again, and again, and again, until his strength wanes and the knife clatters to the floor.

    He collapses, his body writhing in a growing pool of red. His vision blurs, and the world fades into a dark, heavy silence. There is no more pain. No more loneliness. Just peace in the void.

    And then he hears the hum of a lawnmower outside.

    Reality crashes back. He stands in the same spot, staring into the mirror, his body untouched. His reflection is unscathed, but his expression remains blank, hollow.

    I am the embodiment of the second form of acceptance. I can see it all¡ªevery detail, every drop of blood, every stab wound. I can feel the blade splitting flesh, the ache of suffocation, the weight of dying over and over. And I do it willingly.

    That world exists in my mind alone. My dear friend, loneliness, gave me this gift¡ªthe ability to create an alternate reality so vivid, so detailed, that it feels as real as the world I stand in. Imagine craving connection so desperately that you teach your mind to construct a life where everything you¡¯ve lost is given back to you.

    In my world, I am loved. I am whole. I am valued. I have friends who understand me, a family that cherishes me, a partner who holds me close and whispers that I matter. I know it isn¡¯t real¡ªI¡¯m not delusional. At least, not yet. But it feels real. I can touch it, live it, breathe it.

    In that world, I can be who I¡¯ve always wanted to be. I can feel her skin against mine, the warmth of her breath, the press of her body. I can taste the salt of her sweat and hear the soft sighs of pleasure. I can love her, hold her, and never let go.

    Who needs reality when I can live in my mind? In my world, I matter. In my world, I am complete.

    So I urge you: Be alone. Lose yourself in the process. Become me. Only then will you truly understand the art of being alone.

 Chapter 2 - The Dreamers Mask

    Chapter 2

    The Dreamer''s Mask

    She lays there, dimly lit by the low lamps, naked in his bed. She is vulnerable, her body exposed to his gaze. He watches her from a distance, seated comfortably, his eyes never leaving hers. She knows what he is capable of, what he can do to her. There is no resistance. Not once. Because she belongs to him, mind, body, and soul. Her very existence is to please him, to fulfill him, and his responsibility is to care for her comfort, her safety. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.

    He rises slowly, never once breaking eye contact. He takes a step closer, deliberate, confident. She can feel the tension build as she anticipates what he¡¯s about to do. Her bright blue eyes shimmer with the faintest hint of uncertainty, the fear making her pulse quicken. She knows his nature, his darkness. She doesn¡¯t dare look away.

    He reaches for her face, his touch light, teasing. A single touch that sends a shock down her spine, and she can¡¯t suppress the shiver that follows. He pulls back, his hand slipping into his pocket to retrieve the cuffs. He moves to bind her wrists, but she pulls away, just enough to taunt him. A playful resistance. He smirks, knowing full well that it excites him. She knows this. She knows exactly what she¡¯s doing.

    With a cold chuckle, he speaks in a low voice. "One more time. If you pull away, there will be consequences." His tone is quiet, but there¡¯s no mistaking the command in it.

    He grabs her wrist, his grip firm, holding her in place. The cuffs click into place above her head, binding her to him. She doesn''t dare move, not this time. She stays still, her breath shallow, eyes wide with both fear and submission.

    "Good girl," he murmurs, and it makes her heart race with shame. She blushes, her face turning red, but she doesn¡¯t dare speak. She doesn¡¯t dare move. Not yet.

    People. Hah. People can be so simple. They want companionship, they need it. But they don¡¯t understand that they¡¯re just slaves to their own desires. To their own weakness. I used to crave it too. I needed you. I begged you to stay. To love me. But you left me. Every time. You abandoned me. You chose someone else. And I? I was left to rot, to wait. To wonder why I wasn¡¯t enough for you.

    But now? Now I don¡¯t care. I don¡¯t need you. Not in the way I once thought. I don¡¯t need love. Not from you. Love is a chain. It¡¯s a leash. It¡¯s weakness. What I need is control. Power. I need to watch you beg for me. Watch you fall apart. Watch you surrender everything. And that¡¯s exactly what you¡¯ll do. You¡¯ll give me everything.

    She left me, just like the rest. Another girl. A perfect girl. A lovely blonde with flawless beauty, inside and out. She was everything. She never questioned me. She loved me, I think. But now, she¡¯s gone. She wasn¡¯t enough. She wasn¡¯t what I needed. Not like this one.

    She¡¯s still here. She clings to me, like a dog to its owner, desperate for affection. She doesn''t know yet. But she will. She¡¯ll learn that she¡¯s nothing to me. She will be molded. She will bend to my will. She will beg for the scraps I give her, just as she has before.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    I don¡¯t care about her. Not like I once did. I care about control. The power. She¡¯s a tool. Nothing more.

    I¡¯ve learned something. If you treat her like a celebrity, she will treat you like a fan. But if you treat her like nothing, like the worthless thing she is, she will fall in line. She will beg for your attention. She will crave your touch. And that¡¯s what I need. That¡¯s what I crave. The power to break her, to reshape her into what I want her to be. A broken toy, to be used whenever I need her.

    I am the king, and she is nothing but a pawn. The perfect game.

    He grabs her by the hair, yanking her off the bed with force. She stumbles, her knees buckling, but she doesn¡¯t fight. She knows better. She follows him, step by step, dragged through the darkened apartment. She doesn¡¯t make a sound. She doesn¡¯t resist.

    Through the living room, past the kitchen, to the bathroom. He doesn¡¯t speak, but she knows exactly what¡¯s coming. He orders her to her knees, and she complies immediately. No hesitation. She is his.

    He removes his shirt, the muscles in his chest flexing with every movement. Her eyes are locked on him, filled with desire, with fear, but also with need. He watches her, amused, knowing she wants him. He undoes his sweatpants, tossing them aside, then pulls off his underwear. He can feel her hunger, the way she moves closer, inching toward him.

    But then she hesitates. She¡¯s unsure. He smirks, loving the power he holds over her. He stands there for a moment, allowing the silence to stretch, letting her feel the weight of the moment.

    ¡°Did I give you permission to touch me?¡± His voice is low, but sharp, filled with authority.

    She flinches, then whispers, "I''m sorry, sir," her voice trembling with both fear and anticipation. She backs off, her breath quickening, but she doesn¡¯t protest. She knows better.

    He pulls her head back toward him, his grip tight in her hair, forcing her to take him into her mouth. She does as she¡¯s told. She doesn¡¯t speak. She doesn¡¯t ask questions. She is his, and he controls her. He is the one who decides when she is allowed to move, to speak, to feel.

    I don¡¯t care about her. I don¡¯t care about her needs. I only care about what she can give me.

    I only care about my satisfaction.

    And once I¡¯ve taken everything from her? She¡¯ll be discarded. She¡¯ll be nothing. Just another broken toy.

    But for now? For now, she will beg. She will plead. She will do whatever I want. And that¡¯s the game. She doesn¡¯t know it yet, but she¡¯s mine.

    And when I¡¯m done with her? She¡¯ll be forgotten. Just like all the others. All the ones who came before her.

    I¡¯m not really here. Not in the way she thinks. In my head, I¡¯m somewhere else, somewhere better. The girl kneeling before me isn¡¯t her at all. She¡¯s just another placeholder. A reflection of everything I¡¯ve daydreamed. She¡¯s a projection of my wants. She does exactly what I want. I¡¯ve imagined it over and over again. And I have molded her broken mind into being what I saw in my daydream.

    I¡¯m not sure when it started, but the mask has become second nature. It¡¯s how I live. It¡¯s how I breathe. I wear it all the time¡ªthis version of myself, this fantasy. It shields me from everything I don¡¯t want to feel. From the emptiness, the loneliness that creeps in when I let my guard down. I tell myself it¡¯s enough. The mask is enough. And when I put it on, I¡¯m someone else¡ªsomeone who gets to control everything. Someone who doesn¡¯t need anyone else.

    But the truth? The truth is, it¡¯s a lie. The mask is a shield, a way to protect myself from the pain I don¡¯t want to face. From the parts of me that are still broken. I don¡¯t let anyone in. Not really. And I don¡¯t expect anyone to stay.

    But she¡¯s here. She¡¯s mine, at least for now. And I¡¯ll keep her around just long enough to remind myself that I¡¯m still in control. But when I¡¯m done, she¡¯ll be nothing more than a faded memory, another story that I¡¯ll tell myself. A story that helps me forget what¡¯s really missing.

    So I¡¯ll keep wearing the mask. I¡¯ll keep hiding behind it. Because as long as it¡¯s on, I can pretend. I can pretend that everything is fine. That I¡¯m fine.

 Chapter 3 - The Circle That Adopted Me

    Chapter 3

    The Circle That Adopted Me

    Nothing lasts forever. Not even loneliness. It claws at you like a persistent ghost, whispering that it¡¯s all you¡¯ll ever know. But one day, the pieces of your endless studies, your desperate search for the cure to your isolation, will click into place. It won¡¯t be about learning how to make friends or copying what you see others do. It will be about understanding that the only way to stop your isolation from devouring you is to learn how to be a friend.

    I know it¡¯s hard. I know you¡¯d rather stay in the sanctuary of your mind, where you¡¯re safe, where no one can touch you or hurt you. I know you¡¯ve learned how to be happy there¡ªjust you and the world you¡¯ve created. But God, it¡¯s tearing you apart. Life can be beautiful in solitude, yes, but when no one is there to share it with, that beauty feels like a punishment. You¡¯ve convinced yourself you¡¯re fine, but deep down, you know it¡¯s a lie.

    I know you¡¯re tired of trying. Tired of begging for a place in someone¡¯s world. Tired of the effort, the rejection, the feeling of being invisible. But hear me out: you¡¯ve grown. You¡¯re not the same person who tried and failed before. You¡¯ve been to hell and back. You¡¯ve survived yourself. You¡¯ve lived in your mind for so long, in this fantastic, chaotic world you¡¯ve built. It¡¯s who you are. I understand that.

    But let¡¯s make a deal. Just this once, leave your mind. Step outside, even if it¡¯s terrifying. Join a club, compliment a stranger, channel your imagination into something tangible. Draw what you see, paint what you feel, sculpt what haunts you¡ªdown to the last detail¡ªand share it with the world. Give it one more chance. And if you hate it? If it hurts too much? You have every right to retreat.

    This time, I didn¡¯t have to try. Someone found me. They pulled me out of the shadows and into their light. For the first time in my life, someone saw me and didn¡¯t flinch. They didn¡¯t give me the chance to go back to what I was. They made me feel appreciated. For the first time, I mattered to someone.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    He became my guide, my lifeline. He taught me how to communicate with strangers, how to navigate the terrifying intricacies of human connection. He showed me the gym and how to improve myself with it and introduced me to his friends, and before I knew it, they became mine as well. It felt so good to be wanted, to be seen, to belong.

    But even as I laugh with them, as I feel their warmth, there¡¯s a nagging thought I can¡¯t escape. If they knew¡ªif they saw me for who I truly am¡ªwould they still love me?

    Would they still look at me the same way if they knew the thoughts that plague my mind? The things I¡¯ve done in my head? The murder, the dehumanizing acts, the torture. The self-harm, the emotional pain I¡¯ve inflicted, the families and lovers I¡¯ve ripped apart in my daydreams. The power I crave, the pain I wield like a weapon.

    If they knew how dark it gets in here¡ªhow often I lose myself in the chaos¡ªwould they still call me a friend? Or would they turn away like everyone else?

    So forgive me. Forgive me for the mask I wear, for the lies I tell without a second thought. Forgive me for the person you think you know, the person I¡¯ve carefully constructed to keep you close. That isn¡¯t who I am. But if it keeps you here, I¡¯ll keep playing the role.

    I swear, though: I will never use you the way I¡¯ve used others. I will never betray you or be disloyal. I will always protect you, always keep your best interests at heart. If you need me, I¡¯ll be there. I¡¯ll be everything you need me to be. Everything except truthful.

    Because the truth might drive you away. And I can¡¯t go back to being alone.

    I love you. I love you for giving me something I thought I¡¯d never have. But I¡¯m not na?ve. I know your love is conditional. So is mine. And I¡¯ll love you until the day you show me you¡¯re not worthy of it.

    This mask I wear, this performance¡ªit¡¯s not just for you. It¡¯s for me. It¡¯s how I survive. It¡¯s how I keep the darkness from consuming everything. And if wearing it means I can keep you in my life, then I¡¯ll wear it until it fuses to my skin.

    You don¡¯t need to see what lies beneath. Only I carry that burden. That¡¯s the way it must be.

 Chapter 4 - The Human Heart and Mind

    Chapter 4

    The Human Heart and Mind

    You are here. Maybe out of curiosity. Maybe because my words are your words¡ªthe ones you wouldn¡¯t dare to speak out loud. Perhaps you wish to live my reality through these pages, too afraid of the consequences if you became me in real life.

    Or maybe you are me. Maybe you¡¯re here to feel less alienated, to find solace in someone who understands. To whisper to yourself, ¡°Finally. I¡¯m not alone in this.¡± Whatever brought you here, let me guide you. Let me teach you the lessons I learned the hard way¡ªthrough fire, pain, and unrelenting darkness.

    It all begins with your heart and mind. One is a burden, a pathetic, feeble thing, while the other is a force of unstoppable power. The heart is useless¡ªa quivering, sentimental weight. Your mind, however, is your greatest weapon. It can create worlds, forge empires, or it can consume you, dragging you into your own personal hell.

    What do you want? Wealth? Power? Revenge? Or maybe something simpler¡ªa life of quiet significance, a family, a partner who truly sees you. It doesn¡¯t matter. Whatever it is, I promise you this: I can help you get it. But you must master your mind. You must become the predator, not the prey.

    Master Your Mind

    Your mind is your most precious possession, but right now, it¡¯s a mess¡ªa chaotic storm of broken pieces. Gather them. Assemble them. Make sense of the chaos. Look into yourself. Be brutally honest. What do you truly want? Wealth? Recognition? Love? Break it down. Write it all out in excruciating detail¡ªevery goal, every desire, every fantasy.

    Does it feel good? Productive? Let me shatter that illusion for you. You¡¯ve accomplished nothing. You are exactly as pathetic as you were five minutes ago. But that¡¯s okay¡ªthis is just the groundwork. Good. Now, you must isolate yourself.

    Think hard: do the people in your life share your goals? Do they support you? Or do they drag you down, distracting you from your purpose? Be honest. If they hold you back, they must go. Communicate this if you must, but remember: this isn¡¯t a negotiation. It¡¯s a choice, and you stand by it.

    Feel the loneliness. Let it drown you. Learn to thrive in the dark abyss of solitude. Write your goals everywhere¡ªon your walls, your mirrors, even tattoo them into your flesh if you must. Obsess. Make your desires your lifeblood. Create the perfect version of yourself in your mind¡ªa relentless, godlike figure who towers over your weaknesses. Let them guide your every action. Would they do what you¡¯re about to do? If not, stop. They are who you must become.

    Sacrifice Everything

    This will demand sacrifices. Friends. Time. Pleasure. Comfort. Strip your life down to its barest bones. Meditate on the emptiness. Discipline yourself ruthlessly. Your new existence is one of blood and sweat, where rewards are scarce and hard-won. When you succeed, reward yourself¡ªbut just barely. When you fail, punish yourself without mercy.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    Stand before the mirror. Look into your eyes. See the failure staring back at you. The hollow creature who talks big but accomplishes nothing. You don¡¯t deserve greatness. Not yet. You are weak, directionless, a waste of potential. Let this reality sink in. If this is who you are content to be, walk away now. Rot in your misery. But if you dare to rise, leave the mirror a new person.

    Idolize Your Body

    Your body is a reflection of your mind. A temple to your ambitions. Make it perfect. List your flaws¡ªthe ones that make your skin crawl. Hate your face? Fix it. Build a skincare routine, shed the fat, sculpt yourself into something enviable. Hate your body? Then destroy the excuses and drag yourself to the gym until every muscle screams. Nitpick every imperfection, and annihilate it.

    And when you fail¡ªand you will fail¡ªpunish yourself. Starve the body if it disobeys. Push it harder, faster, further. Your body is your temple, yes, but it is also your tool. Tools must be maintained, sharpened, perfected. Treat it with care only because it serves you. If others fail to respect it, they are worthless. Cut them out without hesitation.

    Darken Your Heart

    The heart is weak. A festering cesspool of emotions that will betray you at every turn. Kill it. Bury it. Operate on logic alone. Your emotions are useless distractions. Learn to move through life with ice in your veins.

    Someone hurt you? Close your eyes. Invite them into the dark void of your imagination. See them clearly¡ªtheir face, their voice, their flaws. And then destroy them. Imagine their bones snapping, their screams filling your ears. Rip them apart, limb by limb, until they beg for mercy that will never come. Feel no remorse. Smile as you watch them crumble.

    Now, open your eyes. Confront them calmly. Tell them how they wronged you. If they refuse to change, cut them out like a rotting limb. Do not hesitate. Do not look back.

    Your heart is nothing more than a liability. Let it blacken, shrivel, and die. Operate only on the cold logic of what benefits you. Sacrifice kindness for power, sentimentality for progress. Do not waste your time pleasing others. You owe the world nothing.

    Transform Your Daydreams Into Reality

    Your fantasies are your most potent weapon. They are not escapes¡ªthey are blueprints. Obsess over them. Let them consume you until the line between daydream and reality blurs. Your ideal self already exists in your mind. Make them real. Become them.

    But know this: there is no room for weakness here. No second chances. When your timeline ends, you will ask yourself one question: Did I get what I desired?

    I have. I dreamed of friends, of emotional intelligence, of understanding of human nature. I dreamed of creating art, selling 3d art and models, of collaboration in creating animations and developing video games with a team, mastering influencing skills in creating a tiktok account and growing it for one purpose ¨Cbuy a game I could not afford when I was unemployed, living a life of my own design and with no restraint. I dreamed of offering my service and knowledge for monetary gain. I dreamed of confidence when I looked at myself in the mirror. And I did it all. I got everything I wanted. Not because I was lucky, but because I was ruthless. Because I sacrificed. Because I turned my daydreams into my reality.

    You can, too. But only if you¡¯re willing to walk through the darkness. Only if you¡¯re willing to burn your heart to ashes and wield your mind like a blade. Only if you¡¯re willing to lose everything and everyone to gain everything.

    The question is: Are you?

 Chapter 5 - It No Longer Hurts

    Chapter 5

    It No Longer Hurts

    You breathe the fresh air of freedom the moment it stops hurting. Have you ever experienced pain so great it stops hurting? There is a limitation to every living thing¡¯s nature. The most tame animal will attack if cornered. When you can no longer hold onto the suffering and agony in this unfair phenomena we call life -when you are shoved repetitively to your breaking point -when they won¡¯t rest until they see your entity shatter into a million pieces there are only two available options; fight or flight.

    It is only my nature, I can¡¯t help it, but does it make me a monster? I have numerous social interactions in my head, I have loved ones, I dare say I even have a family in there, but let me let you in on a little secret, mom¡­ dad. Never once have I had a daydream with you playing the role of a parent. In a world so intricate¡­ so complex, I cannot simply remove you from my dreams. No,... it doesn¡¯t make any sense. It does not align with the rules of my imagination. But I also don¡¯t want you meddling with my life in there so what do I do? Well, I am a great many things but one thing I am not is an empath towards those who cause me repetitive pain.

    Considering how many times you have died by my hand, with passion in my dark brown wide open excited eyes, the ways I have tortured you and watched you unphased by the pain I see you in, the way I made you bleed to the point of passing out¡­ I enjoy seeing you in pain, truthfully. The more helpless you are the better I want to see you beg for your life on your knees with tears in your eyes while I take my time and enjoy every moment as I hold the .50 caliber handgun at point blank range to your head with a genuine smile on my bloodied face, hands soiled with your blood. Every time I end your life in my dreams, your presence, your love, your opinions, your very being becomes more and more worthless to me in reality. You regret the way you raised me. I see that, you pushed me to the edge, I told you that, you¡¯re trying to be better now, I see that. But deep down I don¡¯t accept that. I can¡¯t accept that you want to change for the better for me. But I know you care, you care enough to cry at my words and actions and that gives me a little power; a little control and I love it. You created this monster, you cannot take it back, now deal with the consequences or let me go. It does not change a thing now. But I am not unreasonable. I will hold myself back from hurting you as long as you stay out of my way. On the other hand, I beg you, please give me a reason to hurt you once more. I want to feel the joy and freedom it brings me. I hope you raise my brother well. I would hate for him to end up like me. Use your lessons from your biggest mistake to create a beautiful soul.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    I wonder if I still love you

    I¡¯m sorry it¡¯s just in my nature.

    Letter To The Reader

    If you¡¯ve made it this far, there¡¯s no doubt you understand who I am¡ªor at least, you think you do. For that, I appreciate your time and patience. I know it hasn¡¯t been easy, especially if my morals clash with your own.

    As a reward for your persistence, I offer you something deeply personal: a story from my dreams. This is no ordinary tale. It is raw, unfiltered, and exactly as it unfolded in my mind. Every detail, every dark corner, will be laid bare.

    If your intention was merely to understand how my mind works, this is where your journey should end. What follows is not for the faint-hearted. It is a descent into the most disturbing recesses of my imagination. It will challenge you, unsettle you, and perhaps even haunt you.

    Are you prepared to step into the shadows of my mind, knowing there is no comfort here? If you proceed, you do so willingly, abandoning all expectations of ease. This is your choice. Whatever lies ahead, you cannot say you were not warned. Now, if you are ready, let us begin. At your own discretion.

    Note: music increases the intensity of the daydreams and the stories are crafted with the emotion felt from them. I will include the music in each section if you are up the challenge of being fully immersed.

    Have the music on 30% volume or lower with earbuds or headphones and on repeat until the section is over. Focus on visualization. Read slowly and take in each sentence as you read. Be alone and undistracted.

 Chapter 6 - The Beginning of The End

    Chapter 6

    The Beginning of The End

    Music: k/da - villain (slowed and reverb) by insomnio

    ¡°What am I doing with my life,¡± he whispered, his voice low and heavy. The words echoed through the dark, narrow alley, bouncing off empty walls and disappearing into the void. Only two others were present to hear him¡ªhis silent coworker and a terrified young woman clutching her purse, her wide, tear-filled eyes pleading for mercy.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you anything¡ªmoney, favors¡ªwhatever you want,¡± she stammered, her voice trembling and breaking with every word.

    ¡°You hear that, Hound? Anything we want,¡± Puck said with a cruel laugh, his boots scraping against the gritty pavement as he moved closer. ¡°What I want, sweetheart, isn¡¯t in your purse. Can you give me that?¡±

    Her face paled, her lips trembling as she tried to reason with him. ¡°I¡­ my family values my honor above all else. Please, I¡¯ll give you money, connections¡ªI can even cover your academy fees. Registration opens soon, and I¡¯ll pay for it all.¡±

    Unmoved, Puck continued his advance, closing the space between them until her back pressed against the cold, filthy wall. His presence loomed over her like a shadow, and his rough hand reached out to tilt her chin upward. She turned her gaze toward Hound, who stood leaning against the opposite wall, his expression unreadable. Her silent plea for help met only the stillness of his posture, her last sliver of hope slipping away.

    The sounds of ripping clothes, her stifled cries, and Puck¡¯s laughter and brutality filled the alley. Puck¡¯s confidence only grew, his tone mocking and self-assured.

    In no time she bore no clothes. Her bruised arms covering her exposed breasts. Streams of tears soaking the ground she lies on. Her silky smooth naked skin soiled by filth as she is towered by Puck¡¯s overbearing and sculpted build. His muscles, corded and scarred, were a canvas for intricate tattoos that crawled across his skin like living, breathing serpents. The runes, dark as obsidian, seemed to shimmer faintly under the dim light.

    Each symbol was jagged and angular, their edges curling inward like barbed hooks. They flowed seamlessly into one another, forming an endless chain of patterns that spiraled around his arms, coiled across his chest all the way to the soles of his feet. At the center of his broad chest, the runes converged to form the open jaws of a serpent, its fangs poised to strike. They pulsed faintly, as though imbued with a latent, otherworldly energy. His erect 5 inch veined penis bulged as if to taunt her.

    ¡°Want a turn, partner?¡± he called over his shoulder to Hound, his grin as twisted as his intentions.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got places to be,¡± Hound replied softly, his voice calm and detached. His eyes flicked toward her for a moment, his gaze sharp but cold, before he resumed his vigil.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Hound watched silently as his coworker tormented the woman, her desperate cries and futile struggles echoing through the alley. Puck''s crude laughter cut through the tension, his every movement steeped in cruelty. The scene was oppressive, the air heavy with despair, as Hound observed it all with a chilling detachment, his intentions unreadable.

    The woman, overwhelmed and broken, ceased her resistance, her tears falling steadily as she lay motionless on the ground. Puck, unrelenting, reveled in his power, his demeanor growing more frenzied as his actions reached their peak. With a final, triumphant exclamation, he finished, leaving her further reduced to silent despair.

    Puck stepped back, his breathing ragged as he grinned down at her. "What do you think, partner?" he asked with a mocking tone, as if proud of his cruelty.

    Hound''s silence continued, his gaze fixed, the weight of the moment still lingering in the darkened alley.

    The alley seemed to grow quieter with every second, the tension thick and suffocating. Suddenly, Puck froze mid-sentence, a strangled noise escaping his throat. Blood began to trail from his neck, dripping onto the ground below. His eyes widened in disbelief as he turned toward Hound, who stood holding a dagger. Its blade hovered over a small doll inscribed with intricate runes¡ªthe same symbols etched into Puck¡¯s skin.

    ¡°Hound¡­ what are you¡ª¡± Puck gasped, his voice strained and thick with confusion. His hands instinctively pressed against his throat, trying to stem the bleeding.

    ¡°Blood magic?¡± he rasped, his voice faltering as his knees buckled. ¡°Why? If you didn¡¯t like what I was doing, you only had to say so.¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t give less of a fuck what you do to her¡± he replied with his face remaining impassive, his voice steady.

    ¡°Then what is this about? I don¡¯t understand¡± Puck exclaimed with his hands on his neck, walking closer to Hound with a morbid expression.

    ¡°The job is to bring her in¡ªdead or alive.. I needed you to lure her out but tell me now, Puck. What purpose do you serve but take a percentage of my reward¡±

    ¡°Your reward?¡± Puck spat, his voice hoarse and full of rage. ¡°You bastard, I did all the work!¡±

    ¡°And now you¡¯re unnecessary,¡± Hound replied coldly, carving another mark into the doll. A sickening crack echoed through the alley as Puck¡¯s spine gave way, and he collapsed onto the ground, his body shaking from the sudden paralysis.

    ¡°There¡¯s no honor in dying in the streets, old friend,¡± Hound said, crouching down beside him. ¡°You should¡¯ve known better than to let your guard down. Exhaustion makes even the strongest vulnerable, and you were far too distracted.¡±

    ¡°Hound¡ª¡±

    Puck¡¯s words were cut off as Hound drove the dagger into him. The blade moved with precision, each strike methodical and unrelenting.

    Even now, as blood trickled from his throat, the tattoos seemed to shift, as though trying to protect him. The serpent¡¯s eyes glowed faintly, its coiled body tightening across his chest in a futile attempt to reverse the damage Hound had inflicted. But the blood magic etched into the porcelain doll in Hound¡¯s hand was more potent¡ªa force designed to counteract the very magic Puck had used to become what he was.

    Puck¡¯s fingers grazed the runes on his chest, a mixture of desperation and disbelief etched into his face. The tattoos, once vibrant, began to fade, their energy siphoned away by the cursed magic now unraveling him from within.His breathing slowed, and finally, he fell silent, his body motionless on the ground.

    Hound rose to his feet, his figure silhouetted against the dim light spilling into the alley. Blood stained his clothes, dripping slowly from the blade in his hand. He turned toward the girl, trembling, still laying down.

 Chapter 7 - Shadow and Steel

    Chapter 7

    Shadows and Steel

    Music: Everybody knows by Sigrid

    Off in the distance, a plank crashed to the ground. Footsteps followed¡ªfast, frantic, and heavy with terror.

    Hound¡¯s hand slipped into his pant¡¯s pocket, pulling out a metallic syringe. Inside, a bright purple fluid fizzled violently, light dancing through the glass. Without hesitation, he jammed the needle into his forearm. The reaction was immediate. Black veins crawled across his skin, spreading like ink in water. Every hair on his body stood on end.

    His pupils turned silver, glowing against the darkness. He tilted his head, staring through the shadows. The world shifted under his gaze¡ªwhat others saw as blackness revealed its truth to him.

    There, stumbling through the mist, was a boy. Dark hair, thin frame, sweat dripping down his pale face. He looked back constantly, his wide eyes screaming fear. But Hound wasn¡¯t fooled. The boy¡¯s soul flickered faintly in the dark, and at its center was a brand¡ªclear, unmistakable.

    A gust of wind swept through the alley, carrying the shadows with it. The darkness on Hound¡¯s skin peeled away, disappearing into the air, as his silver eyes began to burn. He winced. Blood seeped from his tear ducts, sizzling as it streamed down his cheeks. Smoke curled off his skin as his body shuddered, flickering like a glitch in reality.

    Through the pain, he whispered, ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    The woman froze. Her voice trembled. ¡°E-Emily, sir¡±

    ¡°Sir?¡± Hound let out a bitter laugh. ¡°Get up.¡±

    They walked in silence toward the checkpoint, Emily trailing close behind. Her bare feet scraped against the gravel, and every few steps, she glanced at Hound, her nerves growing louder than her silence.

    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± she blurted finally. ¡°If it¡¯s money you want, I¡¯m worth more as ransom. You don¡¯t have to take me to him.¡±

    Hound didn¡¯t respond.

    ¡°Why are you called Hound?¡±

    Nothing.

    ¡°I know where you¡¯re taking me,¡± she tried again, her voice lowering. ¡°Binge. He won¡¯t pay you. He¡¯ll betray you¡ªhe¡¯s done it before. I¡¯ll do anything. Anything. Just listen to me.¡±

    Still, he said nothing.

    The checkpoint loomed ahead¡ªa crumbling warehouse, its roof swallowed by the night sky. From the shadows emerged Binge. Tall and gaunt, he grinned wide enough to show all his teeth.

    ¡°Well, well, if it ain¡¯t the stray dog,¡± he said. ¡°Long time no see, Hound.¡±

    Hound didn¡¯t answer.

    Binge¡¯s eyes flicked to Emily, then back. ¡°Where¡¯s Puck? Thought you two were inseparable.¡±The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°We had an argument,¡± Hound replied.

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°He died.¡±

    For a moment, Binge¡¯s grin faltered. Sweat broke on his forehead, though he quickly wiped it away. He turned his attention to Emily, his expression twisting into a snarl.

    ¡°She¡¯s naked. What did you do?¡± he barked.

    ¡°Dead or alive,¡± Hound said evenly. ¡°Like you asked.¡±

    ¡°Dead or alive with her purity intact, you idiot!¡± Binge shoved him back, rage shaking his voice. ¡°You just couldn¡¯t keep your hands to yourself, could you? You¡¯ve ruined it! The sacrifice is worthless now!¡±

    ¡°You think that¡¯s something you should¡¯ve mentioned when you handed me the job?¡± Hound growled, steadying himself.

    Binge stepped closer, his voice cold and low. ¡°You dare raise your voice at me, child?¡±

    From behind Binge, two figures emerged¡ªtowering men built like machines, their forearms gleaming with unnatural precision. These weren¡¯t just mechanical replacements; they were monstrosities forged for violence.

    The man on the left bore a hulking metal arm, its surface rusted and streaked with crimson stains¡ªblood or paint, it was impossible to tell. The intricate gears and pistons that made up his forearm hissed with every subtle movement, tubes of glowing red fluid snaking through the steel like veins. The hand itself was grotesquely oversized, a jagged blend of metal plates and claws that looked capable of crushing bone with a flick of his wrist.

    The man on the right mirrored his companion but with an arm of sleeker, polished design. His forearm gleamed in the moonlight, its blackened steel reflecting faint sparks as its mechanisms whirred. At his elbow joint, vents split open, releasing a quiet hiss of steam, and embedded ports glowed like embers¡ªfaint hints of the flame-powered engine within. The joints clicked as he flexed his fingers, each movement unnervingly precise, as though the arm were more weapon than limb.

    Together, they stood like sentinels, their arms humming with a latent, destructive energy. Hound knew better than to underestimate them¡ªthose limbs weren¡¯t just for show. They were designed to hit harder, faster, and deadlier than any human could manage.

    Hound instinctively tensed at their approach but quickly masked it. He could feel their eyes on him, the weight of their presence heavy enough to make most men falter. Swallowing his pride, he took a step back, his hands open and palms slightly raised in a reluctant show of surrender.

    ¡°I apologize if I¡¯ve offended you, Binge,¡± Hound said evenly, his tone measured. ¡°But this wasn¡¯t something you made clear when you gave me the job. That kind of detail matters.¡±

    Binge¡¯s face twisted into something between a sneer and a snarl, his gaze never softening. Hound watched as his words only made the tension worse. The enforcer on the left shifted closer, his heavy footsteps like anvils against the ground.

    ¡°Details? You dare lecture me about details?¡± Binge spat, his voice rising.

    ¡°I¡¯m just saying,¡± Hound interjected carefully, taking another step back, ¡°if we¡¯d talked this through, I could¡¯ve¡ª¡±

    He didn¡¯t get to finish.

    The man on the left lunged first, his massive metal arm sweeping through the air with terrifying speed. Hound ducked, the air cracking as the jagged claw narrowly missed his face. He twisted to dodge¡ªbut he¡¯d forgotten about the other one. The right-hand enforcer was already moving. Before Hound could react, a solid punch connected with his ribs, shattering bone on impact.

    Hound staggered back, choking on a gasp. His chest was concave where the blow had landed, ribs broken and screaming in pain. But they weren¡¯t done.

    The right-hand man¡¯s arm whirred ominously as he stepped forward, the ports along his elbow glowing brighter. Shafts opened, and a jet of flame roared to life, fueling the velocity of his next attack. The punch landed like a cannon shot, slamming into Hound¡¯s hastily raised arms. The impact sent shockwaves through his bones, snapping them like twigs and forcing him to his knees.

    He barely had time to brace as the left-hand enforcer followed up, his metal arm swinging in an arc. The strike connected with Hound¡¯s face, sending him spinning. Blood spattered the ground as he crumpled into a puddle, vision flickering in and out.

    In the haze, he saw Emily bolting¡ªher silhouette shrinking into the darkness as she ran.

    His broken body refused to move. His vision went black, the sounds of Binge¡¯s men still ringing in his ears as he hit the ground.

 Chapter 8 - The Morality Void

    Chapter 8

    The Morality Void

    Music: Take me to church by Hozier

    ¡°What do you wanna be when you grow up, son?¡± Davin asked, his voice warm, his hands rough from a lifetime of hard work resting on the worn wooden table. The dinner wasn¡¯t fancy¡ªplain white rice and boiled vegetables¡ªbut the love in the small home made up for what it lacked in wealth. Family was their greatest treasure.

    ¡°He¡¯s gonna be a great businessman one day, honey,¡± Angela chimed in, her tone hopeful. ¡°And he¡¯s going to make so much money we won¡¯t have a worry in this world. Isn¡¯t that right, baby?¡±

    Hound hesitated, his small hands gripping his spoon tightly. ¡°I had another nightmare, Mom. I¡¯m scared.¡± His voice cracked as he pushed the rice around on his plate. ¡°I was¡­ I was a bad person.¡±

    Davin smiled, soft and reassuring. ¡°Come here, big boy.¡± He opened his arms wide, but Hound shook his head.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Dad. I know they¡¯re just dreams. Like you always say,¡± Hound mumbled, shoving another spoonful of bland rice into his mouth.

    Angela¡¯s smile softened as she watched her son. ¡°Take a walk with me after dinner, sunshine,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ve got some things to talk about.¡±

    ¡°Without me? What are you two plotting?¡± Davin teased, earning a rare smile from Hound.

    Later that evening, on the edge of an abandoned building, the wind rustled through the leaves of a nearby tree, carrying with it the fading hues of the setting sun. The red tint of the sky cast a warm glow over Angela and her son as they sat together, their legs dangling over the edge.

    ¡°Baby, I know your dreams scare you,¡± Angela began, her hand gently stroking his curly hair. ¡°They scare me too. Maybe we avoid talking about them because we don¡¯t know what to say. But I want to be better for you. So, tell me¡ªwhat happened in this one?¡±

    Hound leaned into her shoulder, his voice small and hesitant. ¡°Puck and I were by the river. He was telling me about a girl he liked.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Angela asked, her voice light, trying to ease his nerves. ¡°Did he now?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he said she¡¯s really pretty,¡± Hound said, a faint smile breaking through. ¡°But I told him she¡¯s too pretty for him and from a house, so¡­ there¡¯s no way trenchers like us would have a chance.¡±

    Angela chuckled. ¡°Way to lift his spirits, son.¡±

    ¡°I know, I know,¡± Hound admitted sheepishly. ¡°But Puck said he¡¯d prove me wrong. So, we snuck into her house to talk to her.¡±

    ¡°You do know that¡¯s illegal, right?¡± Angela teased, pinching his cheek playfully.

    ¡°Mom, it¡¯s just a dream. I can¡¯t control it!¡± Hound exclaimed, frustration creeping into his tone.

    ¡°Fair enough. Continue,¡± she urged, her smile returning.

    ¡°We waited in her room. When she came in, Puck asked her to be his girlfriend, but she called the guards. They dragged us out. And then¡­¡±, Hound¡¯s face saddened, ¡°And then they said that behavior is unacceptable and for the damages we caused to her mental health, we need to enroll in mortal combat. We didn¡¯t do anything to her, we just wanted to know how she felt about Puck¡±, Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    Angela¡¯s smile faded as she wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. ¡°What happened next, baby?¡±

    ¡°Hound wiped at his tears, but they kept coming. ¡°Dad and Puck¡¯s dad¡­ they were just farmers. They didn¡¯t stand a chance. They both died in front of us.¡± His sobs came harder now, his body trembling against hers. ¡°Then they made us slaves. Puck¡¯s mom couldn¡¯t handle it¡ªshe ended her life the first day. And you¡­ you worked yourself to death trying to take care of us ¨Cuntil you died from overworking two years later.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sweetheart,¡± Angela whispered, holding him tightly. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry you had to see that.¡±

    ¡°Mom, are we going to be okay?¡± Hound asked, looking up at her with wide, tear-filled eyes. ¡°Puck asked me to hang out by the lake today. What if it happens?¡±

    Angela paused, brushing a tear from his cheek. ¡°What if¡­ you don¡¯t go? Would that change things?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it matters,¡± Hound said, his voice trembling. ¡°Every dream ends the same. Everyone dies, except me and Puck.¡±

    Angela stilled as a cold wind swept through. ¡°And the other dreams? Was there any way to stop it?¡±

    ¡°There was¡­ one,¡± Hound admitted hesitantly. ¡°But it¡¯s impossible.¡±

    ¡°What was it?¡± Angela pressed, her voice steady despite her growing unease.

    Hound¡¯s tears streamed down his face, each one seeming to burn like fire against his skin. As the weight of his emotions overwhelmed him, a strange sensation coursed through his body¡ªa deep, pulsing warmth that started in his chest and spread outward, consuming him. His breathing grew uneven, shallow gasps punctuating the silence.

    Angela¡¯s comforting grip on his shoulder faltered as she noticed his skin changing. The rich, warm brown tone began to shift, darkening unnaturally, like ink spilling across parchment. It wasn¡¯t just a shadow¡ªit was as if the very light in the air was being absorbed into him. His skin took on a matte black hue, smooth yet otherworldly, as though he were no longer entirely human.

    ¡°Ronnie¡­¡± Angela whispered, fear flickering in her voice as she cupped his face. But the heat radiating from his cheeks made her pull back in alarm.

    Hound¡¯s hands trembled, his fingers curling into fists as his fingernails grew sharper, resembling obsidian shards. His eyes, once soft and brown, now shimmered silver, glowing faintly against the dimming sunset. The metallic hue seemed alive, swirling faintly with unspoken emotion and power.

    The wind around them seemed to respond to his transformation. It whipped violently for a moment, scattering leaves and dust into the air, then quieted suddenly, as if holding its breath.

    Angela backed away slightly, her fear and concern written plainly on her face. ¡°Ronnie¡­ my baby¡­ what¡¯s happening to you?¡±

    Hound¡¯s voice came, deeper and reverberating, as though layered with another presence. ¡°I think¡­ this is why I see the dreams, Mom.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯re just dreams¡± Hound said, his voice trembling as though each word bore the weight of a lifetime. ¡°I¡¯ve tried to convince myself they weren¡¯t real, but¡­ I see it so clearly, over and over again. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to change things, you all die. All of you. Except for me and Puck.¡± His glowing silver eyes flickered with anguish as he struggled to meet Angela¡¯s gaze. ¡°I just¡­ I wanted to tell you¡­ I love you, Mom. And I swear, I will make them pay for what they did to us. For what they¡¯ll do.¡±

    Angela¡¯s breath hitched, her lips trembling as she tried to stay composed. ¡°Baby, don¡¯t talk like that. You¡¯re scaring me,¡± she said, her voice unsteady as her hands tightened around his trembling shoulders. Her eyes searched his face, trying to find some trace of the child she had held so many nights. ¡°Your eyes¡­ your skin¡­ how long has this been happening?¡±

    Hound lowered his gaze, silent and consumed by grief. The words wouldn¡¯t come, as though speaking them aloud would make the nightmare even more real. After a long pause, he finally whispered, ¡°There¡¯s only one dream where things turned out differently. Just one. But to change it¡­ I¡¯d have to do something impossible.¡±

    Angela¡¯s voice was barely above a whisper. ¡°What do you mean, Ronnie? What¡¯s impossible?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand how everything is connected yet, Mom,¡± he admitted, his fists tightening as his transformed skin faintly shimmered under the fading light. ¡°But if I pushed you off this building¡­ Puck and I wouldn¡¯t become slaves. You¡¯d die, but the chains wouldn¡¯t bind us. It¡¯s the only way out for us. But even then, it doesn¡¯t fix everything. Two years later, everyone else still dies. Everyone except me and Puck.¡±

    Angela¡¯s face softened, her lips forming a fragile smile despite the tears brimming in her eyes. She cupped his face, her touch tender even against the strange warmth of his altered skin. ¡°If you want to push me, Ronnie, I¡¯ll let you. I¡¯d rather fall a thousand times than see my son suffer in slavery. But if you don¡¯t, I¡¯ll cherish every second I have left to see your face.¡± Her voice cracked as she pulled him closer. ¡°What¡¯s it going to be, sunshine? Tell me what you want.¡±

 Chapter 9 - Dreams and Nightmares

    Chapter 9

    Dreams and Nightmares

    Music: Little Girl Gone by CHINCHILLA

    Hound¡¯s eyes shot open, his body screaming in agony. He tried to move instinctively, but pain locked him in place. His shattered bones, jagged wounds, and the overwhelming loss of blood left him teetering on the brink of consciousness. His breathing came in shallow gasps, his body limp in the dark puddle that surrounded him, as if lying still could prolong his fleeting life.

    A door creaked open somewhere in the distance. Footsteps followed, hesitant at first, then quicker¡ªurgent and determined.

    ¡°I need your help¡± a voice broke through the darkness, shaky and desperate, ¡°I¡¯m stuck here, in the heart of Rivermirror, and I don¡¯t have the means or connections to get home on my own. I¡¯ll take you to a vitaecer, but in return, you don¡¯t kill me¡­ and you help me get back. Deal?¡±, Emily requested, her heart still pounding from her run.

    Hound blinked sluggishly, unable to process the words. His vision spun¡ªfigures blurred and swayed, the world too heavy to hold onto.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take your silence as a yes¡±, Emily hurried, her voice trembling despite the confidence she tried to muster. She knelt beside him, her hands rough and urgent against the cold, blood-soaked ground. Her new found clothes,rugged, the kind that spoke of someone who had been running for far too long.

    And then, the darkness swallowed him whole once more.

    (The next morning)

    ¡°Sad to say it, but he¡¯s my most loyal patient,¡± the vitaecer said with a gravelly chuckle, his hands working methodically as he continued the operation. ¡°Kid ends up here every couple of weeks. Always broken, always bleeding, always crawling back to life.¡± He glanced at Emily through cracked, grimy glasses. ¡°But you¡ªsomeone like you has no business being tangled up with someone like him. So, tell me, how do you know him?¡±

    Emily stiffened slightly, her mind scrambling. ¡°He¡¯s my¡­ um¡­¡± She paused, then exhaled smoothly. ¡°Best friend.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    The vitaecer¡¯s eyes narrowed, suspicion lurking behind their weary glaze. ¡°Best friend? Funny. He¡¯s never mentioned you¡ªnot once. And Hound, well, he doesn¡¯t forget people.¡±

    She squared her shoulders, matching his gaze. ¡°Due to our¡­ differences in status, we prefer to keep our connection private. But he¡¯s still my friend, and I couldn¡¯t just sit by and let him die. That¡¯s why I brought him here.¡±

    The vitaecer huffed but didn¡¯t press further. Instead, he crouched by an old, dust-covered briefcase, its cracked leather surface littered with cobwebs. From within, he retrieved smooth, rune-marked stones, no larger than pebbles, their symbols faintly glowing. Alongside them were threads so filthy their original color was indistinguishable.

    Emily let her eyes wander as he worked, truly noticing the space for the first time. The clinic was dim and cramped, the air thick with a mix of herbs, sweat, and rot. Instruments¡ªdull and rusted¡ªlay strewn across shelves. ¡°I had assumed a vetted vitaecer¡¯s clinic would be a little more¡­ sanitary,¡± she muttered under her breath.

    The vitaecer didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°Feel free to clean it. Consider that your payment for the operation.¡±

    Emily scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯t know how.¡±

    ¡°Of course you don¡¯t,¡± he replied dryly, peering over his glasses. ¡°Let me guess. You¡¯re a young mistress from a River house?¡±

    (River is a civilized, properly developed, city. The neighbouring city Rivermirror being the exact opposite. A city starved, soaked in poverty, crime, and malice. There are, however, no borders separating the two.)

    At his words, Emily¡¯s hand instinctively reached behind her. Her fingers closed around a rusty pair of scissors resting on a nearby tray, their edges dull but sharp enough to do harm. She tensed but kept her expression composed. ¡°Yes,¡± she said softly, her voice sweet and measured. ¡°A woman who¡¯s never labored a day in her life. Surely there are other ways I can compensate.¡± She offered a smile¡ªcharming, disarming.

    Her mind raced. No man here has decency. I¡¯ll use that against him, just as they used it against me. Hound waited until Puck was inside me¡ªnaked, defenseless. I¡¯ll do the same. I¡¯m already tainted. What¡¯s one more time if it means silencing someone who knows too much?

    The vitaecer tilted his head, his gaze steady and knowing. ¡°Put the scissors down, girl. If you really are a friend of Hound¡¯s, you¡¯ve nothing to worry about. He¡¯d gut me before I could lay a hand on you. I¡¯ve treated him long enough to know what he¡¯s capable of¡ªand the nightmares he leaves in his wake.¡±

    ¡°Such a friend, if kept close can be great, if you don¡¯t fear for your own life that is¡±, He added.

    He turned back to Hound, who lay motionless on the makeshift table. The rune stones glowed brighter now, their symbols beginning to pulse as the vitaecer stitched them into Hound¡¯s skin. Emily watched, her stomach churning as the stones melted into him, spreading like ink beneath his flesh. His open wounds sizzled, flesh knitting itself back together with unnatural precision.

    Hound¡¯s fractured bones snapped into place with an audible crack, the sound reverberating through the room. Threads of magic turned to ash, slipping away from his body as if they had never been there. The vitaecer moved with unnerving calm, his hands steady as he severed the final threads.

    The room fell silent.

    Hound¡¯s body shuddered faintly, the final remnants of his transformation settling. His skin, though scarred, was whole once again. The vitaecer stepped back, his work done.

    And then, Hound¡¯s eyes fluttered open¡ªsilver, shimmering, and unrelenting.

 Chapter 10 - Futures Unspoken

    Chapter 10

    Futures Unspoken

    Music: Sucker For Pain (feat. Logic, Ty Dolla $ign & Ambassadors)

    The vitaecer stepped out, the old wooden door creaking shut behind him. Emily and Hound were left in silence, a silence that carried the weight of unspoken words and shared tension. Their gazes locked, as if each was trying to pry into the other''s thoughts.

    Emily broke the quiet, stepping closer to the bed. ¡°I want to go home,¡± she stated firmly. ¡°You¡¯re the only person I know from Rivermirror, and I understand you have your own needs. Name your price, Hound.¡±

    Hound smirked, a wry chuckle escaping his lips. ¡°I love your newfound confidence,¡± he said, his tone dripping with mockery. ¡°Or I could sell you to the closest brothel for the same price you¡¯d offer me.¡±

    Emily¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°This is how you repay me for saving your life?¡±

    ¡°Relax,¡± Hound said, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. ¡°I was joking. I¡¯m not that shameless. I¡¯ve got something to take care of. I¡¯ll find you after.¡±

    ¡°Find me how? I¡¯m coming with you.¡±

    ¡°Suit yourself,¡± he replied, his voice laced with irritation as he stood and began gathering his things.

    The vitaecer lingered outside the clinic, puffing on a cigar infused with ether. The thick, black smoke curled around him like a shroud. His bloodshot eyes turned toward them as they exited. ¡°Word around town is Puck¡¯s dead,¡± he said, his voice raspy. ¡°What really happened?¡±

    Hound paused, his gaze unwavering. ¡°I had a vision. This is the future I see best suited for myself.¡±

    ¡°Care to elaborate?¡± the vitaecer asked, his curiosity piqued.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± Hound replied curtly. ¡°What do I owe you for the treatment?¡±

    The vitaecer took a long drag from his cigar. ¡°The child. If you killed him, no one would know your business. Knowing you, he¡¯s likely to wind up dead in the streets anyway. Perhaps his vitality could serve better purposes here.¡±Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be at your doorstep by tomorrow,¡± Hound said coldly before walking away, Emily trailing behind him.

    The market of Rivermirror bustled with life. Merchants shouted their wares, horses clattered down cobblestone streets, and a dusty wind carried the mingled scents of spices and decay. Emily struggled to keep pace with Hound, her curiosity bubbling over.

    ¡°Does your skin peel off when you use your abilities?¡± she asked, her voice laced with genuine concern. ¡°And why do you need to inject yourself with ether to use them? Also, where are we even going?¡±

    Hound didn¡¯t break stride. ¡°I told you, I have business to attend to. If you¡¯d rather wait with the vitaecer, feel free.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not asking to annoy you,¡± Emily shot back. ¡°I¡¯m asking to help. You do know I¡¯m a student at the academy, don¡¯t you? Ether and magic are kind of my thing.¡±

    Her declaration caught Hound¡¯s attention, but he kept his expression neutral. ¡°How would you help if I told you we¡¯re on our way to kidnap the boy who saw us with Puck last night? He¡¯ll be taken to the vitaecer, where he¡¯ll likely be experimented on until he dies.¡±

    Emily froze for a moment, processing his words. ¡°He¡¯s just a kid,¡± she protested. ¡°He doesn¡¯t understand the consequences of spreading rumors.¡±

    ¡°He had a Seer tattoo,¡± Hound countered.

    ¡°And what does that mean?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s part of an organization that sells information for profit,¡± Hound explained. ¡°They¡¯ve been watching me for a while now. Leaving him alive isn¡¯t an option.¡±

    Emily¡¯s voice softened, her tone pleading. ¡°There has to be another way.¡±

    Hound ignored her as they took a sharp turn, arriving at Blackstone, a renowned store for battle wear, weapons, and ether-infused gear. Two guards in rare, glimmering armor flanked the entrance, nodding to Hound as he passed.

    Inside, the air was thick with the metallic tang of ether. The walls were lined with gleaming weapons and intricate armor. Emily¡¯s eyes widened as she took in the sight.

    ¡°How much money do you have?¡± Hound asked.

    Emily blinked, startled by the question. ¡°Not enough to afford anything here.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you from a House?¡± he pressed.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry,¡± she snapped. ¡°I didn¡¯t exactly plan a vacation to Rivermirror.¡± She handed over the last of her coins with a reluctant sigh.

    Hound approached the counter without hesitation. ¡°I¡¯ll take a binding rope. Highest quality I can afford.¡±

    The cashier¡¯s expression turned curious. ¡°How did the doll serve you?¡±

    ¡°It got the job done,¡± Hound replied flatly.

    As they turned to leave, a group of four entered. Each bore the Seer¡¯s distinctive tattoo: a vibrant blue teardrop stretching from the corner of their left eye to their lips. The air grew heavy with tension.

    Emily offered an awkward wave, attempting to diffuse the situation. The Seers didn¡¯t respond.

    ¡°Run after me the moment we leave,¡± Hound whispered. ¡°Violence is forbidden in here, so they won¡¯t try anything. Outside is another story.¡±

    ¡°Who are they?¡± Emily asked, her voice low.

    ¡°Seers. They¡¯ve been tracking us since we left the clinic.¡±

    The door opened, and they bolted into the crowded market. As if on cue, the Seers gave chase.

 Chapter 11 - The Fire That Consumes All

    Chapter 11

    The Fire That Consumes All

    Music: MONEY by LISA

    ¡°Perhaps his vitality could serve better purposes here?¡±, She repeated, ¡°You¡¯ve got some nerve, old man¡±.  She spat, her voice steady but laced with disgust. She stared at the vitaecer, the ropes creaking above him as he hung by his feet, his body swaying slightly from the motion.

    The vitaecer rasped, hanging from the ceiling by a rope tied to his feet.

    A pool of green, bubbling acid sat beneath him, threatening to disintegrate his body the moment he touched it. The heat from the acidic pool scorched the air, making the vitaecer sweat profusely as it dripped down his furrowed brow.

    Across the room, a woman with a blue teardrop tattoo, the ink swirling down from her eye and stopping just beneath her cheek, stood silently. Argent. She was a figure of serene danger, her silver hair braided tightly and falling all the way to her feet. She was clad in sleek, black armor, her nails like sharp claws, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with detached curiosity. Her eyes glimmered under the flickering candlelight, as if she found some kind of amusement in the vitaecer¡¯s torment.

    <hr>

    Hound and Emily had been running for minutes¡ªpushing past startled vendors, dodging livestock, and cutting through the throngs of the market. Emily struggled to keep pace. Her legs burned, and she could hear the Seers¡¯ footsteps closing in, the rhythm of their pursuit unmistakable behind them.

    A meat stand blocked her way. In a flash of desperation, Emily grabbed a kitchen knife stabbed into a butcher''s table, her fingers trembling as she yanked it free. A rock nearly made her trip, but she caught herself, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She had no choice but to trail behind Hound. His long legs took the lead, effortlessly clearing obstacles.

    Ahead of them, a dead-end appeared: a tall fence, tightly woven between two crumbling buildings. No way over it¡ªno clear escape.

    Without hesitation, Hound used the side of the building to boost himself. He jumped, grabbing the balcony edge with both hands, pulling himself up like a spider. His movements were fluid, controlled, but the weariness in his eyes hinted at the toll his body was taking. His chest heaved as he sprinted along the roof, weaving over gaps, scaling walls, taking every opportunity for higher ground.

    Emily, her confidence shattered, hesitated. The ground was so far below her, the dark, jagged edges of the sewer entrance just ahead. Without thinking, she leapt into the open manhole, falling into the darkness below. She didn¡¯t care for the ladder¡ªshe crashed down, a sharp pain shooting up her legs, but she managed to land without breaking anything. The wet, slimy walls of the sewer enveloped her, and the stench of decay made her stomach churn.

    The sound of footsteps above echoed in the wet tunnel. She turned and started running through the murky water, the cold seeping through her clothes. Her mind raced, panic clawing at her.

    But the Seers were closing in¡ªtwo teams now. Two tracked Hound on the rooftops, while the other two took the sewer. Emily pressed on, the dark, foul-smelling water splashing against her legs. She was lost, her thoughts spiraling. No light. No direction. She crouched in a corner, trying to steady her breath, her pulse hammering in her throat.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    A red flare split the dark like a bleeding eye, illuminating the sewer in sickly light. Emily barely moved, hoping they wouldn¡¯t see her. The Seers came closer, their boots squelching in the muck. They walked past her, the flare fading as they moved.

    Time slowed. Her heart raced.

    She spotted the flintlock pistol with the brass, ornate handle holstered on one of their waists. Her eyes locked on it¡ªher only hope.

    The flare went out, plunging them back into darkness. Emily, driven by a primal instinct, lunged forward. Her hand found the Seer¡¯s neck, and the knife sank in¡ªsmoothly, brutally. Her fingers gripped the hilt as she twisted, feeling the knife crush through bone and flesh. The Seer¡¯s mouth gurgled, his blood pouring out like a fountain. She yanked the blade free, blood splattering across her hands and face.

    The taste of iron filled her mouth, but she didn¡¯t stop. She grabbed the pistol from the Seer¡¯s side and aimed, her body shaking as she pulled the trigger. The shot rang out, but the darkness swallowed the bullet, and she missed.

    Shit

    Another shot¡ªthis time, it hit. The flare lit up again, just a brief moment, but enough to show the Seer crumpling to the ground, clutching his chest, his life spilling out in a crimson tide. His hand reached for the flare still clutched in his trembling fingers, his eyes wide with desperation, the light flickering in his gaze as he struggled for breath.

    Emily didn¡¯t hesitate. She grabbed the remaining flares from his pack, the ones still hanging from his bloodied belt. She looted his pockets, taking everything: his clothes, his shoes, even the final flare he was holding. It was all hers now¡ªher only chance at survival.

    His choking, gurgling sounds echoed as she walked away, the blood-soaked pistol clutched tightly in her hand. She had just killed a man. A Seer. The weight of it pressed down on her, but she swallowed it.

    Her hands were trembling, her heart racing¡ªnot from the cold of the sewer, but from the sick realization of what she¡¯d just done.

    <hr>

    Hound had no choice but to fight. He was cornered atop a five-story building, nowhere else to go. The Seer, with his runic tattoos and the unmistakable speed of an ether-charged speedster, stood before him. No escape.

    The Seer struck first. A slash so fast that Hound barely saw it coming. But Hound¡¯s ability to see the future¡ªhis cursed, yet invaluable gift¡ªallowed him to predict the blow. He dodged to the left, his knees bending to absorb the momentum, his hand slapping the rooftop to steady himself.

    But the toll was clear. His body, drugged with ether, was overheating. The silver in his eyes brightened with his eyeballs turning an ink-black shade that spread across his face and down his body like an infection. His skin began to sizzle from the heat, the air around him warping from the intensity.

    The Seer pressed again. Another slash aimed at Hound¡¯s neck, and then a spinning strike to his torso. Hound could see the moves, could predict them, but his body was failing him. Each dodge took more out of him, and though he narrowly avoided the strikes, the Seer¡¯s blade nicked his skin again and again, shallow cuts that were nothing compared to the damage Hound could inflict.

    ut then, the Seer moved too quickly. The sword pierced Hound¡¯s stomach, the blade sliding through his flesh with terrifying precision. He gritted his teeth, pain searing through him, but his focus never wavered. The Seer was in close now.

    With a growl, Hound pulled the Seer in, the blade still embedded in his gut, and with all his strength, he twisted the Seer¡¯s body into a deadly embrace. The heat that radiated from Hound¡¯s body surged as his silver eyes flared.

    The sword melted in his body, the heat intense enough to liquefy the metal. The Seer tried to pull away, but it was too late. Silver flames engulfed him, starting from his skin, searing through muscle and bone.

    The Seer screamed, but it was too late. His flesh crisped and blackened. In seconds, there was nothing left but a pile of smoldering ash, drifting away in the wind.

    Hound¡¯s skin, still sizzling, began to cool as his target crumbled to nothing. His eyes narrowed. The other Seer finally arrived and was approaching.

    Hound¡¯s silver eyes gleamed with an unearthly hunger, the heat in his body rising once more. The hunt was far from over.

    Hound, a hellhound in form and power, burned with an unearthly heat that sparked fear in all who saw him. A relentless predator, gifted with a sight that saw all, yet chained by the frailties of his human body.

    Without hesitation, he charged toward the Seer, his eyes devoid of any humanity, only the cold hunger of a predator. Silver smoke trailed behind his piercing gaze, his ink-black skin radiating deadly heat as he closed in on his target.

 Chapter 12 - Collateral Damage

    Chapter 12

    Collateral Damage

    Music: BITTERSUITE by Billie Eillish

    Emily sprinted through the crowded market, her breath ragged, her heart thundering against her ribs. Blood smeared her face and hands¡ªsome her own, some not. The kitchen knife in her right hand dripped crimson, and the loaded handgun in her left felt impossibly heavy. People recoiled at her approach. Mothers clutched their children and darted behind stalls; men froze, their faces pale with terror. Whispers trailed behind her like ghosts.

    ¡°Monster,¡± someone muttered.

    She barely noticed. Her focus was singular¡ªa boy in her peripheral vision, the swirling tattoo of a Seer marking his eye. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment. His widened with fear before he bolted.

    Emily¡¯s chest tightened with a mix of relief and dread. Got you.

    She gave chase, shoving through the crowd. A fruit stand toppled in her path, apples and oranges scattering underfoot, but she barely broke stride. Her breath burned in her throat, her legs screaming for relief, but she pressed on, fueled by desperation.

    Bang!

    The gunshot tore through the chaos. Gasps rippled through the crowd, and like the parting sea, people scattered, clearing her path. The boy ducked into an apartment building. Emily followed without hesitation.

    The lobby reeked of mildew and desperation, the fluorescent lights flickering above like dying stars. The boy was quick, always just out of reach, weaving through a maze of broken furniture and cowering residents.

    Bang!

    The boy fell with a scream, his right knee a burst of red. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his leg, his sobs mingling with the muffled cries of onlookers pressed against the walls.

    Emily froze, the realization of what she¡¯d done crashing over her like a wave. The knife slipped from her trembling hand and clattered to the ground. Her vision blurred with tears, mixing with the blood smeared on her cheeks.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Em?¡±,

    The voice was familiar, cutting through the haze of guilt. She turned, her chest tightening further.

    ¡°Daryl?¡± she choked, barely able to form the words.

    Her family friend stepped forward, his face a mask of shock and disappointment. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± His eyes flicked to the boy, then back to her. ¡°And with a kid?¡±

    Her stomach twisted. ¡°He¡¯s a Seer!¡± she protested, the words tumbling out in a desperate plea.

    ¡°What he is, is a child,¡± a cold voice interrupted.

    Emily turned to see a man in a pristine red suit, his slicked-back black hair gleaming under the flickering lights. He stood out like a predator among prey, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

    Emily fell to her knees, her hands clutching at her hair, the weight of guilt and shame too much to bear. Tears spilled freely now, carving clean trails through the blood on her face.

    ¡°Monster,¡± the word echoed in her mind, louder than the man¡¯s judgmental stare, louder than the boy¡¯s pained sobs.

    She didn¡¯t notice the cloaked figure behind her until the cold press of a gun barrel touched the back of her skull. The sound of metal meeting flesh was impossibly loud, and she froze, every nerve in her body screaming at her to move, but she couldn¡¯t.

    Then came the roar of fire. A wave of searing heat washed over her, and the gun was gone¡ªno, the man was gone. Vaporized in an instant, his scream cut short by the relentless inferno.

    Hound stood there, his blackened skin crackling with heat, his silver eyes fixed on the boy. Smoke curled around him, thick and suffocating, as if the flames themselves feared his presence.

    He tossed a length of rope onto the ground beside Emily. ¡°Bind him,¡± he said, his voice reverberating like distant thunder.

    Emily¡¯s stomach turned. She scrambled to her feet, her trembling hands clenched into fists. ¡°You knew this would happen, didn¡¯t you?¡± Her voice broke, raw with betrayal.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see everything,¡± Hound replied, his gaze steady. ¡°Just enough to shape the outcome.¡±

    She stepped closer, grabbing the fallen gun and pointing it at his head. Her hands shook violently, but her aim was steady. ¡°Did you know?¡± she demanded, her voice rising. ¡°Did you know this is what I¡¯d become? A murderer?!¡±

    ¡°There are many futures, Emily,¡± he said, his voice calm, detached. ¡°I can¡¯t predict them all. But this future¡­ it was the one that ensured I caught him.¡± He gestured to the boy, who lay trembling, tears streaking his dirtied face.

    ¡°Future this, future that,¡± she spat, tears streaming anew. ¡°Do you ever think about how your choices destroy the lives of everyone around you?!¡±

    Hound¡¯s eyes flickered, but he said nothing.

    ¡°Take him and leave,¡± she hissed, tossing the rope back at him. ¡°I want nothing more to do with you.¡±

    For a moment, Hound didn¡¯t move. Then he crouched, tying the boy¡¯s hands with the rope. His body cooled just enough to avoid burning the boy as he hoisted him over his shoulder. Without a word, he turned and walked out, his footsteps heavy with the weight of her anger.

    Emily sank to the floor, the gun slipping from her hands. The market noise outside seemed impossibly distant now, her sobs the only sound she could hear.

    Her hands, stained with blood, wouldn¡¯t stop shaking.

    Monster.

 Chapter 13 - Im Gonna Be Okay... I Think

    Chapter 12

    I''m Gonna Be Okay... I Think

    Music: I Feel Like I¡¯m Drowning by Two Feet

    With Daryl there, a businessman from River, a close friend of her House, and most importantly, a man with connections and influence in both River and Rivermirror, Emily''s journey home was no longer impossible. He had gladly cut his business meeting short to escort her back.

    In no time, Emily was cleaned up¡ªher hair no longer stained with blood, her clothes no longer soiled, her body no longer stinking. Yet, the bruises and cuts from her ordeal in the underdeveloped city remained as painful reminders.

    Outside the carriage were twenty seasoned, professionally trained guards. Inside, silence hung heavy, broken only by the occasional jolt from uneven roads. Daryl and Emily exchanged brief glances, tension simmering between them.

    ¡°Rivermirror is a big city. Rumors spread¡­,¡± Daryl said, finally breaking the silence.

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to lecture me about how a proper woman should behave, save it,¡± Emily interrupted. ¡°I¡¯ve already learned my lesson.¡±

    ¡°As I was saying, rumors spread. It won¡¯t be difficult to refute and twist any allegations of you being in the trenches, attempting to murder a child,¡± Daryl said firmly.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to¡ª¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what you were trying to do, Em!¡± Daryl snapped. ¡°All people saw was a raging woman after a child.¡±

    Emily fell silent, her jaw tightening.

    ¡°What am I going to say to your father?¡±

    She shrugged, her expression contrite.

    ¡°You were not that crazed woman. Such accusations are horrendous. A well-known young mistress of a House has no business dealing in the underworld. It was simply someone with a similar physique. A woman who has since been taken care of,¡± Daryl suggested. ¡°People will believe it. Even your father.¡±

    ¡°And what of my father asking where I¡¯ve been this entire time?¡±

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°With my daughter, Mavis,¡± Daryl said without hesitation. ¡°We¡¯ll get you fixed up at mine when we get back to River. The Vitaecer will have you looking brand new.¡±

    ¡°You would do that for me?¡± Emily asked, her voice soft with gratitude.

    ¡°I¡¯ve had my fair share of trouble,¡± Daryl admitted. ¡°You grow up in River¡ªpeaceful, quiet¡ªbut then you hear of the things people your age get into in Rivermirror. It¡¯s hard to stay away from the action. I get it. But next time, stay close to the border. It¡¯s safer. You come this deep into Rivermirror, and it will eat you alive. You might not make it back out.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t come here for excitement. I was kidnapped,¡± Emily countered.

    ¡°Kidnapped? By who? Since when? Give me a name, and I will deal with them.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need. They¡¯re dead. At least one of them is,¡± Emily said with a shrug.

    ¡°And the others?¡± Daryl pressed.

    ¡°Hound. You do business in Rivermirror, don¡¯t you? How much do you know about him?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a merciless mercenary,¡± Daryl explained. ¡°Knows how to get a job done by any means necessary if paid enough. A necessary evil. But he maintains a low profile due to the enemies he¡¯s made. He refuses to work with any River businessmen, so my knowledge is limited.¡±

    ¡°Why is that?¡± Emily asked, her curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Like I said, my knowledge is limited. Get some rest. At this rate, we¡¯ll be home by noon tomorrow.¡±

    (Later that evening)

    Music: LIFETIME Chris Grey

    Hound, battered and fatigued from his previous battle, limped through the smoke-filled streets. His charred skin cracked, revealing raw tissue beneath. The boy, unconscious and bound by ropes, dragged behind him, his body leaving a trail in the dirt. Each step was agony, yet he pressed on until he reached the clinic.

    Swinging the door open, he was met by the sight of Argent and the Vitaecer hovering over bubbling acid. The room reeked of chemicals and tension.

    ¡°A package for me at this time of night?¡± Argent¡¯s voice filled the space, her silver hair gleaming in the dim light as she turned to face him. Her gaze was predatory, assessing.

    Hound dropped the rope, the boy¡¯s body slumping lifelessly to the floor. He stood silent, his mind racing. Another Seer. Not just any Seer. Argent¡ªa name whispered with both fear and awe.

    ¡°Who would have guessed a deal with Binge gone wrong would cause this much trouble, eh?¡± she said, chuckling darkly.

    ¡°Such are the complexities of doing business,¡± Hound replied, his voice hoarse.

    ¡°You¡¯ve caught the eye of the organization. Both in a good and bad way,¡± Argent said, her tone shifting to something dangerous. ¡°I¡¯ve got good news and bad news. What would you like to hear first?¡±

    ¡°Bad,¡± Hound said without hesitation, his body tense.

    Argent¡¯s movements were fluid, almost hypnotic, as she crouched. Her silver braids seemed alive, reflecting the faint light as they extended. In one swift motion, they sliced the rope binding the Vitaecer.

    ¡°They want me to teach you some manners. This is the price you pay for your sins,¡± she said.

    The Vitaecer screamed in terror, and Hound moved instinctively to protect him. But Argent was faster. Her knee struck his chest, and metallic braids pierced his shoulders and abdomen, pinning him in place. One braid hovered at his neck, poised to strike.

    ¡°Now that we¡¯re even, all is forgotten,¡± she said, her voice soft but chilling as she cupped Hound¡¯s face. ¡°And now for the good news: a contract to become a Seer. Your skills will ensure a high rank. The only catch is obeying your superiors¡ªme. Refuse, and I will kill you where you stand.¡±

    Her expression was deadly serious, leaving Hound no room for doubt.

    The Vitaecer, his face twisted in terror, let out a frantic scream. His screams turned to gurgles, then silence as the acid consumed him, leaving nothing but the acrid stench of burning flesh.

 Chapter 14 - The Price of Life

    Chapter 13

    The Price of Life

    Music: The Machine by Reed Wonder & Aurora Olivas

    (A few weeks later)

    ¡°What would you say is the price of a soul?¡± Binge asked, his voice cutting through the heavy air in the dimly lit chamber. The question hung like a noose over the round table where Rivermirror¡¯s most powerful warlords sat. ¡°A soul of River dwellers, to be more specific.¡±

    Seated around the table were Rivermirror¡¯s elites:

    Binge, the self-taught alchemist whose creation of ether¡ªa volatile, self-destructive form of magic¡ªhad cemented his authority. His yellow, zinc-like skin bore the scars of unsanctioned experiments, a testament to the price he paid for power.

    Blanc, the blind founder of the Seers, an omnipresent organization gathering intelligence. His ashen eyes faded into shadows as his every move was accompanied by a silent but watchful Seer.

    Gazier, the scarred hunter-turned-magnate whose fortune grew from the dangerous trade of core hunting. His presence was as imposing as his muscular frame, a walking monument to Rivermirror¡¯s brutality.

    Evee, a living weapon whose uncontrollable explosive power rippled in faint red shockwaves with every beat of her heart. She was a disaster waiting to happen, and everyone knew it.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Lucas, the sharp-dressed international merchant whose pristine red suit and gleaming black hair hid a mind as calculating as it was ruthless.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t come here for riddles,¡± Gazier growled, his voice as gruff as his appearance.

    Binge rose, his discolored hand gesturing toward a glass compartment. Inside was an elegant woman, lifelessly tethered to a grotesque amalgamation of technology and alchemy. Tubes pulsing with black ichor fed into her skin, her faint breaths barely keeping pace with the machinery. The creature at the other end of the tubes seemed alive, shifting and writhing, its form warping as if reality itself rejected its existence.

    ¡°It was always my father¡¯s dream to make Riverwater a place worth living,¡± Binge began, his voice uncharacteristically soft. ¡°Respectable. Safe. Educated. He passed away yesterday.¡±

    Evee stood, her rippling aura quieting for a moment. She approached Binge and, to the shock of the others, embraced him. The alchemist froze but eventually returned the gesture. When they parted, a single tear glimmered in his eye before he wiped it away, regaining his composure.

    The others rose and gathered around the glass, gazes fixed on the grotesque scene before them. Even Blanc, tapping his cane with deliberate slowness, joined the group despite Lucas¡¯s irritated sigh.

    ¡°What are we looking at?¡± Gazier asked, his usual gruffness laced with unease.

    ¡°The solution,¡± Binge replied. ¡°Rivermirror¡¯s poverty has been our curse, a burden we carry because of our dependence on River. The civil war left us broken, divided. We are falling further behind with each passing day. This¡­¡± he gestured to the creature, ¡°is the beginning of our salvation.¡±

    As the creature pulsated, the tubes quivered violently, and the woman¡¯s body began to convulse. Her moans turned into a strained, echoing cry that reverberated through the chamber. Blackened plants sprouted from the creature, twisting and writhing unnaturally as they bore discolored fruit. The woman¡¯s life force visibly drained until a steady flow of ether stabilized her, leaving her shivering but alive.

    ¡°My father dreamed of ending hunger,¡± Binge continued, his voice rising with conviction. ¡°But I dream bigger. I dream of ending our suffering. Together, we can rebuild Rivermirror into something greater than it¡¯s ever been. But it will cost us. So I ask again: What would you say is the price of a Riverian soul?¡±

    The warlords stood in silence, the weight of his question sinking in as they watched the grotesque miracle before them. The room buzzed with unspoken tension, their appalled expressions reflecting a grim realization¡ªthis was no longer a question of morality but of survival.

    And for Rivermirror, survival always came at a price.

 Chapter 15 - Till Death Do Us Apart

    Chapter 14

    Till Death Do Us Apart

    Music: Freak (feat. REI AMI) by Sub Urban

    ¡°Orders from above! I raid River¡¯s military headquarters with a squad of my choosing. Tonight.¡± Argent announced, barging into Hound¡¯s small, dimly lit room. The space, modestly given by the organization, was far from luxurious but still better than the streets.

    ¡°Good for you,¡± Hound muttered, unmoving on the thin brown mattress, his eyes shut, voice laced with apathy.

    ¡°And guess what? My squad...my squad is just me...and you!¡± she cheered, clapping her hands together like a child given a new toy. ¡°Wait, does that make us a duo? Anyway, I know you¡¯ve been moping about your precious vitaecer. You¡¯ve had weeks for that! Time to get up, soldier¡ªyour tattoo session starts now. Isn¡¯t this exciting?¡±

    ¡°You want to raid the most fortified place in River with just the two of us? That¡¯s a death wish,¡± Hound scoffed, keeping his eyes closed.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have taken this job if I didn¡¯t think it could benefit you,¡± Argent replied, her cheerful tone fading as she sat beside him, suddenly serious. ¡°There are plenty of people out there who are stronger, faster, smarter than you. But I chose you because of something very few people know.¡±

    Hound finally opened his eyes, his blank expression meeting her mischievous yet calculating gaze.

    ¡°Your core is stronger than your body, and that makes you weak,¡± she said, her voice dripping with a mix of amusement and malice. Her smile was devilish, playful, yet cutting.

    ¡°Oh no, you¡¯ve discovered my deepest, darkest secret,¡± Hound said with mock horror, waving his hands weakly in sarcastic defeat.

    ¡°And that¡¯s exactly why you killed Puck, isn¡¯t it?¡± she continued, bursting into laughter. ¡°You needed the money to fix your weakness. Too bad it all went to hell. How does it feel knowing you killed your best friend for nothing?¡±

    Hound¡¯s face hardened, but he remained silent.

    ¡°For someone who can twist fate, you sure made a mess of it,¡± she added, her tone like a blade slicing through the air.

    ¡°Did you come here just to mock me?¡± he snapped, annoyance edging into his voice.

    ¡°On the contrary, darling. I came to help you. So help me help you. The base has something you need¡ªa dark attribute symbiote.¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Hound¡¯s breath caught, his body tensing involuntarily. She had his attention now.

    ¡°I grab what I need for this mission. Whatever you grab? Well...I happened to look the other way,¡± she said with a wink, standing up and reaching out her hand. ¡°If anyone can figure out how to get in and out unscathed, it¡¯s you, Mr. Manipulate-Destiny.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll help you, but I¡¯m not getting inked. My soul will not be branded. I work with you, not for you. I don¡¯t like restrictions,¡± Hound stated firmly.

    ¡°That¡¯s not how this works, babe. You¡¯re too dangerous without a leash. If you survive the mutation, all it takes is one flick of the wrist to turn me into a tragic accident, right? All in, or all out. And we both know there¡¯s only one real choice here.¡±

    Hound hesitated but extended his hand. They shook. Argent might be many things, but a bluff was not one of them.

    ¡°On the bright side, you can pick the color and design!¡± she teased with a grin.

    <hr>

    ¡°Trust me, Lucas, I¡¯ll make it look like an accident. Just tell me where he is,¡± Daryl said, his desperation barely contained as his coffee shook in his hands.

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking with your heart, not your head,¡± Lucas replied coolly, swirling his glass of wine.

    ¡°What am I supposed to do? He kidnapped someone I care about!¡± Daryl pleaded. ¡°The things Emily told me¡ªthey¡¯re unimaginable. Just give me a location. Please. If not as a trader, then as a friend.¡±

    Lucas sighed, leaning back in his chair. ¡°He¡¯ll be at River¡¯s military headquarters with Argent. But here¡¯s the deal: you don¡¯t interfere with her business. Wait until they¡¯re out, then he¡¯s all yours.¡±

    Daryl clenched his jaw but nodded. Lucas finished his drink, stood, and left without another word.

    <hr>

    ¡°Use invisible ink,¡± Hound instructed the tattoo artist. ¡°Two long tears. Both eyes.¡±

    The tattooist looked up from his tools, his expression grim. ¡°You realize what you¡¯re asking for? This isn¡¯t just any tattoo. It marks you as part of a violent group. Step into River, and you¡¯ll be arrested on sight. Worse, your soul will be bound to hers. If she dies, especially by your hand, your soul shatters into fragments. You¡¯ll be left a husk¡ªa mindless, broken shell. Are you sure about this?¡±

    In the corner, Argent leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, her silver braids reflecting the dim light as she formed a heart with her hands.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get it over with,¡± Hound said, his voice cold and resolute.

    <hr>

    Daryl waited by the gates, the weight of his plan pressing down on him. He was startled by a tap on his shoulder.

    ¡°Hey, Dad!¡± Mavis greeted, her face flushing as she saw him. She glanced nervously at the boy standing beside her. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Good afternoon, Mr. Dawson,¡± the boy said politely, extending a hand.

    Daryl shook it absentmindedly, his focus on his daughter. ¡°I just wanted to see you, sweetheart. Tell Emily I handled it. After tonight, she won¡¯t have to worry anymore.¡±

    ¡°Dad¡ª¡± Mavis began.

    ¡°She¡¯ll understand,¡± Daryl interrupted, kissing her forehead. ¡°Your mother¡¯s making your favorite tonight. I love you.¡±

    Mavis smiled, her dimples showing. ¡°Love you too.¡±

    As he walked away, his face hardened, and his resolve deepened. Tonight, everything would change.

 Chapter 16 - A Trip Down Memory Lane

    Chapter 16

    A Trip Down Memory Lane

    Music: 28 years later by The Wizard

    There they stood, in Argent¡¯s weapon room¡ªa shrine to destruction. Every inch of the cold, steel walls was lined with weapons of every kind: raw, infused, enchanted, Core-based. The dim light flickered off the blades and barrels, casting jagged shadows across the room.

    Argent emerged from a corner, tossing a gas mask into Hound¡¯s hands. ¡°This cost me a fortune, love. If you waste it, you buy it. Deep breaths¡ªfocus,¡± she instructed, slipping on her own sleek mask.

    Hound adjusted the mask, his breath slow and deliberate. As he inhaled, a shimmering purple gas filled the mask, burning his throat and dying his teeth a deep violet. Thin, branching veins surfaced around his eyes, glowing red and purple, stretching down his neck, over his chest, and spreading across his body like creeping vines. His pupils dilated, glowing an unearthly silver. The room dimmed around him, swallowed by darkness, until he could see nothing but void.

    Reality one

    <hr>

    The world snapped into focus¡ªa scene painted in carnage. River soldiers lay scattered, lifeless, blood pooling on the cracked ground. The sky was a sickening crimson. Slowly, Hound turned, his breath shallow as his eyes locked onto a single horrifying sight: Argent. Her head impaled on a spear-like weapon, her expression frozen in betrayal.

    His heart raced. His breathing grew uneven. The darkness reclaimed him.

    <hr>

    Reality Two

    <hr>

    The blackness broke into a jarring scene: the border between River and Rivermirror. Hound¡¯s chest was gaping open, a hole where his heart should have been. He was dragged across the dirt by Argent, a briefcase clutched tightly in her hands. Blood poured into the empty cavity, seeping into the dirt as pain seared through him. Behind them, shadowy figures closed in, their faces obscured.

    Who are they?

    The searing pain intensified, his breathing shallow and desperate. The darkness came again.

    <hr>

    Now, suffocating from excessive consumption of high concentration ether, his mouth began to foam a black substance. His body trembled. In the present, Argent hovered above him, her face contorted in worry. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°Take it off!¡± she yelled, reaching for his mask.

    ¡°Take it off, now!¡±, Argent got on top of him trying attempting to take the mask off realizing the severity of the situation.

    ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ Got¡­ No¡­ Not¡­ Don¡¯t¡­ Yet!¡±, Hound assured

    Reality Three

    <hr>

    ¡°Future this, future that,¡± she spat, tears streaming anew. ¡°Do you ever think about how your choices destroy the lives of everyone around you?!¡±

    Argent¡¯s voice was gone. The Dawson mansion loomed around him, blood pooling beneath the lifeless bodies of Daryl, Mavis, and Ms. Dawson. Emily stood frozen, her hands trembling and coated in blood not her own. Her wide eyes bore into Hound as if begging for forgiveness he could never grant.

    And then, a different flash¡ªHound and Argent, their raid on River¡¯s military headquarters a success. No blood was spilled; it was smooth, surgical. But as they approached the border, Argent was cleaved in two by a Core-infused blade. Hound barely registered the gunshot that followed before the world went black again.

    And then it was black again

    ¡°Blood magic?¡± he rasped, his voice faltering as his knees buckled. ¡°Why? If you didn¡¯t like what I was doing, you only had to say so.¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t give less of a fuck what you do to her¡± he replied with his face remaining impassive, his voice steady.

    In that moment, a memory of his closest friend seared through Hound''s mind like a blade. Tears began to spill, tracing the jagged lines of the runic tattoos on his face, each drop a painful reminder.

    "He loved me," Hound whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his anguish. "He LOVED me! I thought¡ª I thought it would be different. I¡¯m so sorry, Puck. If I could take it back... if I could take it all back..."

    The tears came harder now, scattering like shards of broken glass.

    "What did I do to deserve this? YOUR BETRAYAL!" he roared, clutching his head as if to drown out the cacophony of voices screaming inside.

    "I CARED FOR YOU!" he bellowed, his voice breaking as the storm within him raged on, unstoppable and unrelenting.

    <hr>

    Then came reality four, reality five, six, seven, nineteen, two hundred, four hundred and sixty seven, nine hundred and two,

    Reality number #!@!%#

    And then it was black again

    <hr>

    Hound ripped the mask of his face, almost drawing in his own foam. Argent hurried towards him in worry. Hound throwing up, dizzy, his pupils vibrating, bis body still shaking, his hands unable to shop shivering, tears filling his eyes. He cupped his face trying to regain composure

    Hound''s chest tightened as the memory clawed its way back to the surface, unrelenting and vivid. The image of Puck''s lifeless body sprawled before him was seared into his mind, every detail as sharp as the blade he¡¯d used. His hands trembled uncontrollably, his breathing shallow, and the weight of the act threatened to crush him where he stood. The silver of his eyes dulled as tears welled up, spilling over in uneven streaks. The silence in the room seemed to mock him, amplifying the haunting echo of Puck¡¯s final moments. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to,¡± he muttered to himself, voice quivering, ¡°I didn¡¯t want to.¡± But the truth was an unyielding specter¡ªhe had, and the shame of it would never let him go.

    ¡°Do we both make it out with what we want? Alive and intact?¡±, Argent questioned eagerly

    ¡°Something along those lines¡±, Hound replied, his voice raspy from his hurting throat.

 Chapter 17 - Whispers of Betrayal, Echoes of Blades

    Chapter 17

    Whispers of Betrayal, Echoes of Blades

    Music: I am by Jorja Smith

    ¡°And what¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± Argent¡¯s eyes narrowed, suspicion darkening her tone. ¡°It¡¯s a yes or a no.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s do the raid tomorrow instead,¡± Hound countered firmly. ¡°I told my baron tonight, and I happen to be a woman of my word.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t do it tonight. This is the reason you want to work with me¡ªbecause I see things you can¡¯t. Trust me on this,¡± Hound insisted, his voice calm but resolute.

    Argent¡¯s frustration boiled over. ¡°What did you see in there? Every last detail.¡±

    Hound sighed and explained everything he had seen, leaving no vision unspoken, every detail meticulously recounted.

    ¡°I¡¯ll update my baron and we¡¯ll continue from there,¡± Argent decided, turning on her heel to leave.

    ¡°No, you won¡¯t,¡± Hound said sharply, steadying himself as he stepped closer.

    Argent froze mid-step, disbelief etched across her face. ¡°What are you saying? That we change plans and leave him out of the loop?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you to follow the script. Just as I saw it,¡± Hound replied firmly, his tone unyielding.

    ¡°What you saw are fragments! Pieces of a puzzle, not the whole picture,¡± Argent shouted, her voice cutting through the tense air. ¡°What you¡¯re suggesting¡ªthat we go behind his back¡ªis treason. You do realize that, right? Starting a war with the barons isn¡¯t something we walk away from.¡±

    ¡°You tell him, and I¡¯m out,¡± Hound said coldly, his voice like a blade. ¡°I will not die because you want to prove to your little daddy what a good girl you are.¡±

    Argent¡¯s composure shattered. Her braids began to unravel, each strand moving like a serpent ready to strike. Fury ignited in her eyes as she took a menacing step forward. ¡°I¡¯ve been far too lenient with you,¡± she hissed, her voice venomous. ¡°Let me remind you¡ªsince you seem to have forgotten¡ªI am your superior, and you will treat me as such!¡±

    The tension crackled between them like static electricity. Hound stood his ground, but suddenly, the tattoos on his face began to burn. Not a physical heat, but a searing pain that tore through his very soul. The invisible tear-shaped marks he had once chosen now glowed as if etched with fire.

    He staggered, clawing at his face, his wails of agony echoing in the lair. The burning sensation spread across his body, unbearable and relentless. His legs buckled, and with one final scream, he collapsed.

    <hr>

    When Hound opened his eyes, he found himself lying on a couch, his head pounding. Argent sat silently beside him, her expression unreadable. Across from him was Blanc, the quiet confidence of his presence filling the room. Next to Blanc stood a man¡ªanother Seer, judging by the branded mark on his face. The man¡¯s fear was palpable, his body trembling as sweat poured down his pale skin.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Blanc leaned forward slightly, his voice low and deliberate. ¡°How trustworthy are your visions, Hound?¡±

    Hound shifted his gaze to Argent, his blood simmering with restrained fury. ¡°We¡¯ve deviated from the original timeline,¡± he admitted. ¡°Everything I calculated before is useless now. You weren¡¯t supposed to find out until the mission was complete.¡±

    ¡°Argent told me everything I needed to know,¡± Blanc replied, his words sharp and measured. ¡°Her loyalty is commendable, but yours? Yours is in question. So tell me, Hound¡ªcan I trust you?¡±

    Hound met Blanc¡¯s eyes, his voice steady despite the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. ¡°I bear the mark of a Seer, don¡¯t I? My soul is branded. That should be enough.¡±

    Blanc¡¯s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. ¡°Then proceed with your plan, just as you saw it. I will play my part, just as I did in your vision.¡± He gestured to a maid who approached with a chemical gas mask. ¡°Twenty percent concentration ether. Use it to realign this timeline with the original one. Make it work.¡±

    Hound took the mask silently. As he and Argent left the room, the sound of the branded man¡¯s screams echoed behind them, piercing and relentless. They didn¡¯t look back.

    <hr>

    The air outside was heavy with awkward silence. The tension between them lingered like a storm cloud.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Argent broke the quiet, her voice softer than usual. ¡°Back there at the lair, that was uncalled for. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Hound didn¡¯t respond. His focus was sharp, his mind already shifting gears. ¡°Our first stop for the night is the bar,¡± he said curtly. ¡°Tonight, we set everything up to align with my vision. Tomorrow, we raid.¡±

    <hr>

    The bar was a cacophony of flashing lights and pulsating music. It took thirty long minutes of waiting in line before they reached the bouncer. The pat-down was thorough, every inch of their bodies searched. When they finally stepped inside, Argent joked, ¡°Was there an alternate vision where I beat him up for grabbing my ass?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± Hound replied, his gaze locked on his target. ¡°In every single one, you just took it. Like the good girl you are.¡±

    Argent started to respond, but Hound was already weaving through the crowd, his movements deliberate. The air was thick with sweat and desperation. Women danced against one another, men loitered against walls hoping for attention, and the flashing lights painted the chaos in technicolor.

    Upstairs, in a private section, Lucas lounged among bottles and women, laughter and debauchery surrounding him. His carefree demeanor shifted the moment he spotted Hound approaching.

    Hound sat across from him, his expression unreadable. Argent stood to Lucas¡¯ side, blocking him in.

    ¡°Come to join the fun, eh?¡± Lucas said, feigning nonchalance as he slung an arm around the woman beside him. ¡°With the pretty assassin, no less. I didn¡¯t know you had it in you, dog.¡±

    ¡°All of you, leave us,¡± Hound said flatly, his gaze locked on Lucas.

    Lucas¡¯ friends burst into laughter, mocking his tone. ¡°All of you, leave us!¡± they echoed, their laughter grating.

    Without another word, Hound reached into his shoe and drew a dagger¡ªthe same one he had used to kill Puck. He relaced his shoe with meticulous patience as Lucas and his entourage continued their drunken banter, oblivious to the danger.

    The blade moved in a flash. It pierced the eye of the man closest to him, the steel driving cleanly into his brain. Blood gushed as the man¡¯s body crumpled lifelessly to the floor. The laughter stopped.

    Hound withdrew the blade with deliberate force, his movements calm and precise. He turned his gaze back to Lucas, his voice low and cold.

    ¡°Private sections stay true to the name,¡± he said, ¡°I love it. No one can hear you scream.¡±

 Chapter 18 - Moneky See, Monkey Do

    Chapter 18

    Monkey See, Monkey Do

    Music: My Love Will Never Die by  AG & ClaireWyndham

    ¡°We¡¯ll leave, we¡¯re sorry,¡± one of the girls stammered as they all scrambled to get up, panic in their every motion.

    ¡°I changed my mind.¡± Hound¡¯s twisted smile widened, his eyes glinting with something far darker than amusement. ¡°It would be such a shame to leave these bottles unfinished. Stay! Why don¡¯t we play a drinking game?¡±

    Argent stood her ground, unmoving, still blocking Lucas in like a predator toying with its prey. Lucas¡¯s wide eyes darted between Hound and the empty bottles scattered around them. His hands trembled, his facade of composure cracking. He swallowed hard, barely steadying his voice as he inquired, ¡°It would be a shame indeed. What do you have in mind?¡±

    A low chuckle escaped Hound¡¯s lips, his tone playful yet menacing. ¡°A simple game really. Truth, dare, or drink half a bottle in one sitting.¡±

    Lucas¡¯s shaking worsened. He tried to mask it but failed. ¡°A fair game,¡± he bargained weakly.

    Hound reclined in his seat, his posture deceptively relaxed. With a softened voice, he said, ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll let you start us off.¡±

    Lucas hesitated, but he complied, his voice trembling. ¡°Truth or dare?¡±

    ¡°Truth,¡± Hound replied without hesitation.

    ¡°Are you here to kill me?¡± Lucas¡¯s question came out sharper than he intended, a desperate attempt to regain control.

    Hound smiled faintly, wiping his dagger clean on the shirt of the corpse beside him. ¡°I¡¯m not a rookie in my craft, Lucas. I know better than to publicly execute an influential figure of Rivermirror. If I wanted you dead, you¡¯d already be gone, and no one would know who did it.¡±

    Lucas blinked, his panic rising. ¡°Then why are you¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not how this game works, Lucas.¡± Hound¡¯s interruption was calm, his tone laced with condescension. ¡°Truth or dare?¡±

    Lucas hesitated before muttering, ¡°Truth.¡±

    Hound leaned forward, his silver eyes locking onto Lucas. ¡°There is a man. A man close to Emily and happens to be a friend of yours. What is his address?¡±

    Lucas shook his head, his voice regaining some steadiness. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    Hound¡¯s smile widened as he dragged a full bottle of 45% alcohol across the table toward Lucas. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll ask Emily myself.¡±

    <hr>

    (At the military headquarters)

    Soldiers paced back and forth, their movements hurried. The air was thick with tension, the security tighter than usual. Watch parties lined the perimeter, their eyes scanning for any sign of danger.

    ¡°Triple the security,¡± Commander Erlin ordered sharply, his voice cutting through the uneasy silence.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Are we sure this isn¡¯t a hoax?¡± Bleak, a veteran in the art of runic applications, questioned, his brows furrowed.

    ¡°I trust my informant,¡± Erlin replied as they hurried toward the steel vault entrance¡ªa complex system only the brightest minds could operate.

    The base buzzed with anxiety, soldiers rushing into formation, the weight of anticipation pressing down on them. The night stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity.

    <hr>

    (Daryl¡¯s mansion)

    ¡°You did what?!¡± Emily¡¯s voice rose, fatigue from her studies and exams doing little to mask her anger. ¡°I told you it was fine!¡±

    ¡°What if something happened to you?¡± Daryl¡¯s voice bit back, sharp and resolute. ¡°He is a danger that needs to be taken care of.¡±

    His wife, Mrs. Dawson, and their daughter Mavis watched the heated exchange in stunned silence, their confusion growing with every word.

    ¡°Why are you trying to protect him?¡± Daryl demanded.

    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to protect him! I¡¯m scared of losing you!¡± Emily¡¯s voice softened, her anger melting into despair. ¡°I was only with him for a brief moment, but I know enough to know you should just let it go.¡±

    ¡°I¡ª I guess if this is what this is about, you have nothing to worry about. I am protected.¡±

    ¡°And I wasn¡¯t?¡± Emily shot back, her voice breaking. ¡°Was I not protected when I was kidnapped from the comfort of my bedroom? Were there not guards on duty? Protective runes? Expensive runes made for the sole purpose of protection?¡± She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling.

    Mrs. Dawson and Mavis exchanged worried glances, their shock deepening at the mention of kidnapping.

    ¡°Did they get him yet?¡± Emily asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

    ¡°Not yet. They¡¯re still waiting,¡± Daryl admitted.

    ¡°We¡¯re fucked.¡±

    <hr>

    (At the bar)

    ¡°I dare you to pluck one of your eyes out,¡± Hound¡¯s voice was soft, almost a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a death sentence.

    The room was silent. The girls, as well as Lucas¡¯s friends, sat motionless, their pale faces frozen in horror. Vomit stained their clothes, the stench of alcohol and fear hanging heavy in the air. Half the bottles littering the table were empty.

    Hound sat completely sober, his expression cold and detached. The only signs of his participation in the game were the deep cuts on his arms, his charred lips, and three broken fingers from the times he had chosen a dare.

    Lucas, now barely coherent, reached for the almost empty bottle. His limbs jerked uncontrollably, his eyes rolled back, and his breathing was slow and irregular. He gagged, occasionally vomiting on himself. His skin had taken on a bluish hue, his lips foaming as his body fought to stay alive.

    Before his hand could reach the bottle, Hound¡¯s dagger flew, piercing Lucas¡¯s eye with brutal precision. Lucas didn¡¯t react. He didn¡¯t even flinch¡ªhis body too far gone to register the pain.

    Hound leaned back, calmly bringing the gas mask to his face. He took a deep inhale, his silver eyes glowing before fading back to a dark brown. ¡°That¡¯s all I need,¡± he muttered, his gaze shifting to Argent. ¡°As long as someone follows the script, that is.¡±

    He tossed the gas mask toward Lucas, who fumbled to catch it. After some struggle, Lucas managed to put it on and took a deep inhale.

    ¡°Enough ether to keep you from dying of alcohol poisoning. Sadly, not enough to heal you. You¡¯re rich, so I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll figure it out. The price for your sins was your sanity and your friends. Next time¡ªwell¡­ let¡¯s hope there isn¡¯t a next time.¡±

    Hound stood, leaving the dagger on the table as a chilling reminder.

    Argent¡¯s voice broke the silence as they exited the bar. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you genuinely happy and smile as much as you did tonight.¡± Her tone was laced with worry.

    ¡°What can I say?¡± Hound replied, his tone cold and detached. ¡°I¡¯m in it for the love of the game. The money? Just a reasonable excuse.¡±

    Her chest tightened, but she pressed on. ¡°Why was that necessary? You don¡¯t see the full picture, but you act out on what you see in fragments of the future without question?¡±

    Hound smirked, his tone playful yet dark. ¡°Yup. A future that benefits me. Monkey see, monkey do.¡±

 Chapter 19 - Snitches And Rats

    Chapter 19

    Snitches and Rats

    Music: Out Of My Mind by Reuben and The Dark

    The night crawled painfully into dawn, stretching each moment into an eternity. The soldiers, weary and disillusioned, began to vacate their posts one by one. Their vigilance waned under the weight of exhaustion, their eyes drooping with the false assurance that nothing would happen. River¡¯s silence was deafening, like a mother whispering to a deaf child¡ªcalm, quiet, but ultimately fruitless.

    Inside the Dawson mansion, slumber claimed its inhabitants. Emily had fallen asleep on the couch, her face etched with the fatigue of restless thoughts. Mavis lay beside her on a makeshift mattress, her body curled protectively against hers. In the master bedroom, Mr. and Mrs. Dawson clung to their own fragile sense of peace, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing beyond their walls.

    Four contracted guards lingered outside the mansion''s front entrance, their postures slackened from a night spent on high alert. The sleek copper armor they wore shimmered faintly in the dim light of dawn, the matte finish edged with a gleaming gold trim that denoted their allegiance to the prestigious Baki Guard Distribution Corporation. Their identities were masked by the detachable helmets and featureless black visors, an intentional barrier between their duty and personal lives.

    The tension in the air was palpable, though none of the guards dared voice it. The faint creak of a distant branch swaying in the wind was enough to send shivers up their spines. Then, it happened.

    Two guards vanished, dragged into the shadows by long, serpentine braids that slithered with a life of their own. The air was rent with their muffled screams, swallowed by the predatory silence before the others could fully react.

    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± one of the remaining guards hissed, his voice trembling beneath the mechanical distortion of his helmet¡¯s comms.

    The shadows seemed to close in around them, thick and oppressive.

    The remaining guards gave chase, rounding the corner only to find their missing comrades unharmed, standing as though nothing had happened. Their long swords drawn,  glinted ominously in the faint light, the sharp edges whispering of death. Confusion rippled through the group like a cold wind.

    They had dressed up in the guards¡¯ clothes, and dumped their bodies in a nearby trash bin all within a moment¡¯s timeThis story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    "They''re here! We need to report to Mr. Dawson," Hound said, his tone laced with just enough panic to sell the act. His fingers twitched slightly, betraying a simmering impatience.

    "Stick to the script," Hound whispered harshly to Argent. ¡°The other times had no consequences, but one wrong decision could destroy everything, including us.¡±

    Argent gave him a curt nod  before turning away.

    Hound¡¯s heart pounded as he followed the guards inside.

    <hr>

    (At the Base)

    ¡°I trust my informant,¡± Bleak teased from his position, leaning casually against the wall as if the chaos outside had no claim on him.

    ¡°And I still do. I¡¯ll pay him a visit to hash out the details. Hold down the base,¡± Erlin barked, throwing on his jacket with an air of urgency before striding into the night.

    <hr>

    (Binge¡¯s Chamber)

    The elites of Rivermirror gathered under the suffocating air of Binge¡¯s chamber¡ªBinge himself, Blanc, Gazier, Evee, and Lucas. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension, the kind that seeped into the lungs and made breathing difficult.

    ¡°Lucas, in charge of the funds, delivered. What of the rest of you? Any updates?¡± Binge¡¯s voice cut through the noise like a scalpel, demanding precision.

    ¡°To limit the number of lives that will be sacrificed, I went hunting with Gazier¡¯s team. Not a lot, but enough cores to fuel your prototype for a couple of months. With steady hunts, no lives would have to be unnecessarily risked,¡± Evee reported, her tone calm but edged with a defensive undercurrent.

    Lucas sneered, his face pale and worn from the events of the previous night. The dark patch covering his ruined eye did little to conceal the torment beneath. ¡°You would rather put the lives of your own on the line than those rich bastards?¡±

    Blanc, ever unshaken, tilted his head slightly. ¡°To my knowledge, you befriend these¡­ bastards.¡±

    The room fell silent, the weight of Blanc¡¯s words pressing down on Lucas like an anvil.

    ¡°We were promised the package would be here by now, weren¡¯t we, Blanc?¡± Lucas finally spat, his spite barely concealed. ¡°And yet here you are, empty-handed.¡±

    ¡°You know damn well my plans changed,¡± Blanc replied coolly, his unseeing eyes unwavering.

    The argument flared like wildfire, their voices escalating until Binge slammed his hand on the table. ¡°Enough! What is the meaning of this?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just say we have a rat among us,¡± Blanc said, his words like venom.

    The room stilled, every pair of eyes turning to Lucas. He staggered back, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for words that wouldn¡¯t come.

    ¡°He is a danger to our cause. My sources tell me the base is littered with armed soldiers. No one knew of the operation but us and our subordinates. For this betrayal, I propose an execution,¡± Blanc continued.

    Evee¡¯s gaze sharpened. ¡°Do you have a replacement? We need funding, after all.¡±

    Blanc¡¯s lips curled into a cold smile. ¡°I have just the person in mind.¡±

    All heads turned to Binge, who gave a solemn nod. In the span of a breath, Blanc¡¯s cane transformed into a gleaming blade. Guided by heat signatures, he closed the distance with inhuman speed, his sword slicing cleanly through Lucas¡¯ neck.

    The body crumpled to its knees first, blood pooling around it like a macabre offering. Then the head fell, rolling to a stop at Binge¡¯s feet. No one flinched, their gazes fixed on the grisly scene before them. The marble floor bore the stain of Lucas¡¯ treachery, a fitting reminder of the price of disloyalty.

 Chapter 20 - A Slave To Fate

    Chapter 20

    A Slave To Fate

    Music: Shooter by Tory Lanez

    The overhead lights shifted to a menacing crimson, signaling the building''s lockdown. With a deafening thud, all doors slammed shut. Argent, her task complete, moved stealthily from the mansion¡¯s entrance to the next checkpoint at the River border.

    The only escape route lay in the hands of Mr. Dawson, whose fingerprints were now a gruesome souvenir in Hound''s possession¡ªboth hands severed and hidden away. The acrid scent of burning flesh filled the air, remnants of a desperate act to keep Daryl from bleeding out. In the center of the room stood the Dawson family, Emily among them, bound and gagged as if they awaited execution, their muffled whimpers slicing through the tense silence.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you, Erlin,¡± Hound¡¯s voice reverberated through the dimly lit room. His guard mask lay discarded on the floor, revealing a morbid expression, one that seemed perpetually trapped between mirth and madness¡ª the guard that followed him, pierced by his own sword.

    ¡°Have we met?¡± Erlin asked, keeping his voice steady, betraying no hint of fear.

    ¡°If I had a coin for every time you murdered me, I¡¯d be a resident of River by now!¡± Hound¡¯s laughter was unsettling.

    ¡°Care to elaborate?¡± Erlin responded, brow furrowing with confusion.

    Hound ignored him, cutting to the heart of the matter. ¡°My demands are simple: a dark attribute symbiote and a military rank relay core.¡±

    ¡°So, it is you we were expecting.¡± Erlin took a calculated step closer to Hound, his fearlessness juxtaposed against the welling dread inside him. ¡°And if I refuse?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not asking, Erlin,¡± Hound snapped, a glint of madness in his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re a commander; you understand the essence of sacrifice. Holding the Dawson family hostage won¡¯t suffice. But your life¡ªheld in peril¡ªnow that¡¯s leverage enough to shake the base.¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    The weight of realization struck Erlin, causing his composure to falter for the first time.

    <hr>

    (At the Border)

    Argent gripped the two-way radio she had snatched from Erlin as she entered the mansion. She quickly reported Hound''s demands, emphasizing the dire consequences should they refuse. The response was swift; soldiers were dispatched to survey the estate, a blockade set in motion while panic erupted among River¡¯s citizens as they evacuated.

    <hr>

    (At the Mansion)

    ¡°So, you¡¯re holding me hostage?¡± Erlin balled his fists, defiance radiating from him. ¡°I could easily overpower you and turn the tide.¡±

    ¡°My life isn¡¯t enough to warrant a change in plans,¡± Hound retorted, a chilling chuckle escaping his lips. ¡°I¡¯m not holding you hostage; I¡¯ve already killed you. You just don¡¯t know it yet.¡±

    ¡°What kind of madness is this?¡± Erlin challenged, confusion bubbling beneath his anger.

    Without warning, Hound lunged, his eyes shimmering with a disconcerting light, the tattoo of tears marking his allegiance shining brightly.

    ¡°A seer?¡± Erlin¡¯s brows knitted together in disbelief.

    He narrowly dodged Hound''s blade, quickly unsheathing his sword to parry the next strike aimed at his torso, causing Hound to stagger back.

    ¡°I suppose you earned that commander title for a reason,¡± Hound quipped, smirking as he advanced once more.

    <hr>

    (Package Escort)

    As the heavily guarded transport ventured beyond the base''s perimeter, elite seers emerged from the shadows, each strike deliberate and lethal. They swiftly overpowered the soldiers, leaving those who survived to face a grim fate¡ªexecuted in cold blood. In mere moments, they secured their package and disappeared into the darkness.

    <hr>

    (At the Mansion)

    Erlin fought with all his might, his movements precise and efficient. His strength lay not in sorcery but in sheer skill. Yet, without his gear, his physical prowess was insufficient against someone who had studied him through countless realities. Each of Erlin¡¯s movements, every dodge and counter, was etched into Hound¡¯s memory, leading to a prophecy of defeat.

    As Erlin dropped his guard for a fraction of a second, Hound seized the opportunity. Summoning immense black flames and silver smoke, he launched an uppercut that sent Erlin¡¯s head flying from his body, leaving only a smoldering skull attached to a burning spine.

    The lockdown prevented the soldiers outside from grasping the chaos unfolding within. Hound approached a wardrobe, retrieving the severed hands, now soaked in blood, and made his way toward a hidden passage, a path he had seen in his visions.

    Emily, straining against her restraints, managed to wriggle the gag from her mouth. ¡°You mentioned visiting my home first. Are my parents safe?¡±

    Hound paused, a shadow of amusement crossing his features despite his pain. ¡°I assured them I was a friend. They cooperated in sharing your location. So yes, I let them live. I¡¯m not a monster¡­¡±

    A breath of relief escaped her lips, but the weight of the situation loomed larger than ever.

 Chapter 21 - Ashes Beneath The Rain

    Chapter 21

    Ashes Beneath The Rain

    Music: Bad Influnece by Omah Lay

    The drizzle of rain added to the solemn atmosphere, soaking those who had gathered for Erlin¡¯s funeral on the quiet afternoon. The gray skies wept alongside his three daughters, who clung to one another, their tears indistinguishable from the rain. Soldiers stood in formation, fists pressed to their hearts, their faces streaked with anguish they didn¡¯t bother to hide. Daryl lingered at the edge of the ceremony, hands shoved into his coat pockets, his bionic arms a constant reminder of the price of failure. Beside him, his wife looped her arm through his, grounding him in a reality he wanted desperately to escape.

    ¡°Erlin was a good man,¡± Bleak began, his voice steady despite the crackling in his throat. ¡°To his family, to his friends, to his soldiers, and to this country. Let us not cry because he is not with us anymore. Let us be grateful because he lived.¡±

    ¡°He shall forever remain in our hearts,¡± the crowd echoed in unison, their voices trembling.

    As the soldiers stood in a quiet salute, their tears refused to cease, streaming silently as the ceremony came to an end. Bleak remained, watching the grieving family with heavy eyes before retreating to the multi-purpose room where the remaining commanders awaited him. Without Erlin, their number had dwindled to three.

    <hr>

    The room was cold, the air dense with unspoken grief. Bleak, second in command, was required to step into Erlin¡¯s role. He didn¡¯t feel ready.

    ¡°The murder of a commander, as well as numerous soldiers in our own home,¡± Berlin began, his tone sharp and accusing. ¡°Do we all agree this is an act of war?¡±

    ¡°This unprovoked act of terrorism cannot go unanswered,¡± Joana replied, her voice reverberating through the room. Her body was nearly mechanical, lite implants replacing most of her organic tissue. She was a living weapon, forged for combat.

    ¡°Such haste will lead to ruin,¡± Bleak countered, his voice calmer but no less commanding. ¡°We don¡¯t have all the information yet.¡±

    ¡°We know enough,¡± Joana snapped. ¡°The dark attribute symbiote and the military rank relay core are gone. They¡¯re building something, Bleak. Something dangerous. We bring in the Seers¡ªHound and Argent¡ªand we¡¯ll have the answers we need.¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Berlin leaned forward. ¡°Wanted posters and a reward should do the trick.¡±

    ¡°Rivermirror won¡¯t give them up,¡± Joana countered. ¡°They protect their own. We need a manhunt, and if necessary, an invasion.¡±

    Bleak shook his head, his gaze hardening. ¡°An invasion will provoke chaos. This isn¡¯t Rivermirror¡¯s doing; it¡¯s the actions of two individuals.¡±

    Joana didn¡¯t relent. ¡°They¡¯re Seers, Bleak. Seers don¡¯t act on River soil without Blanc¡¯s approval. If Blanc is involved, this is bigger than two rogue agents.¡±

    The debate raged on, logic clashing with emotion. In the end, they agreed that an invasion would send a message to Rivermirror while reassuring the people of River that their military could protect them. Bleak¡¯s unease simmered beneath the surface.

    <hr>

    Meanwhile, Hound, Argent, and their accompanying Seers returned to Rivermirror under the cover of night. They arrived at Binge¡¯s tower, their faces etched with exhaustion. Hound¡¯s gaze kept darting toward the packages Argent held as if they might detonate at any moment.

    Noticing his unease, Argent handed him the dark attribute symbiote. ¡°If anyone finds out it¡¯s in your possession, they¡¯ll take it from you,¡± she said softly.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Hound¡¯s voice was quiet, his gratitude sincere. For the first time, he looked at her with something other than suspicion.

    She addressed the other Seers, her tone sharp. ¡°We dropped it during the escape. Do you understand?¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± they replied in unison.

    Hound¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°And Blanc?¡±

    Argent smirked. ¡°Sometimes it¡¯s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.¡±

    To everyone¡¯s surprise, Hound stepped forward and moved her extended hand aside, pulling her into an awkward hug. Argent froze, dumbfounded, before tentatively returning the embrace.

    ¡°Promise me one thing,¡± Argent whispered, her voice uncharacteristically soft. ¡°Promise me you won¡¯t harm the cause I stand for¡ªBinge¡¯s dream. I couldn¡¯t live a normal life, but one day, when I¡¯m retired, I want my children to live peacefully. I couldn¡¯t bear it if they ended up like me. The relay core is the answer to my dreams, Hound. So please, help me.¡±

    Hound hesitated, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders. ¡°I have your soul brand. I wouldn¡¯t harm you or your cause even if I wanted to.¡±

    She sighed, her lips curving into a bittersweet smile. ¡°That¡¯s true¡­ until I die. That¡¯s why I need your promise. In this line of work, survival is never guaranteed.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll find you after I mutate,¡± Hound replied, his tone resolute as they went their separate ways.

 Chapter 22 - The Catalyst of Chaos

    Chapter 22

    The Catalyst of Chaos

    Music: Young Metro by Futre

    The soldiers came in waves, their airships slicing through the misty skies like silent predators. Shadows darkened the streets of Rivermirror as armed men dropped from the skies, their boots hitting the ground with unrelenting purpose. Their mission was clear: retrieve the symbiote and relay core, and capture Argent and Hound¡ªdead or alive. Failure was not an option. Mercy wasn¡¯t part of the briefing.

    The streets emptied as though the city itself had stopped breathing. The Seers had vanished without a trace, their usual defiance replaced by a chilling silence. Blanc¡¯s hotel, the first location to be raided, stood eerily abandoned. The soldiers found nothing. No evidence of life. Not a single personal belonging. It was as if the building itself had never been inhabited.

    The quiet streets of Rivermirror told a story of fear and survival. Nine years had passed since the war, but the scars remained. Now, with River¡¯s soldiers parading through the city like it was their conquest, the memories came rushing back. Mothers pulled their children into the darkest corners of their homes. Businesses locked their doors. Schools closed their gates. The city fell into a deafening silence.

    The unlucky few who lingered outside were met with violence. Interrogations escalated into beatings. Beatings escalated into executions. Blood soaked the cobblestones, the screams of the unfortunate fading into the oppressive quiet. A single strand of hair falling to the ground would have echoed in the emptiness.

    For River, this was a calculated act. A demonstration of strength. Justice for their fallen commander. A reassurance to their citizens that order would be restored. But for Rivermirror, this was war. A battle for independence, for survival. Rivermirror was done living on scraps. They craved freedom and would achieve it by any means necessary.

    ¡°Blanc used to live here,¡± growled a soldier, pinning a trembling man to a damp brick wall in a shadowed alley. Rain trickled down the soldier¡¯s helmet, pooling on the ground beneath his boots. He shoved a crumpled photograph of Argent and Hound into the man¡¯s line of sight.

    ¡°They worked under him. Where are they now?¡±

    The man stammered, his words stumbling over each other in panic. ¡°I just sell vegetables, officer! I don¡¯t know anything! I stay away from people like them!¡± His body shook as a dark stain spread across his trousers.

    The soldier¡¯s patience snapped. With a swift motion, he raised his shotgun, the barrel cold against the man¡¯s forehead.

    ¡°Please, no! I swear I don¡¯t¡ª¡±

    A deafening blast echoed through the alley. Blood splattered across the wall as the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

    ¡°Coward,¡± the soldier muttered, reloading his weapon.

    The soldiers kicked down doors, dragging frightened residents into the streets. Screams echoed through the air as homes were ransacked, families torn apart. The streets became a war zone.

    <hr>

    Evee, traveling alone and under the radar, slipped into River undetected. Among the many prestigious academies in the city, one stood out above the rest: Ebonspire Academy, renowned for producing the sharpest minds and future leaders.

    Its exorbitant tuition made it a haven for the elite, primarily attended by nobles who could afford its exclusivity. However, its reputation drew students from across the globe, including neighboring cities and distant nations, making it a melting pot of ambition and privilege.

    With its impenetrable security and esteemed reputation, Ebonspire was considered impossible to infiltrate. Undeterred, Evee made her way to a nearby bar to blend in and prepare her next move.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    <hr>

    The best place to hide is often in plain sight, and Blanc knew this all too well. He chose to stay in a house owned by a seer living undercover in River, her identity concealed by a tattoo in invisible ink, just like Hound¡¯s.

    For four years, she had operated quietly, feeding Blanc invaluable political intel thanks to her influential position as a politician. But while she excelled in subterfuge, she was no fighter, and the weight of her current predicament made her heart pound with unease.

    ¡°Anna, you¡¯re stressing me out with all that pacing,¡± Blanc said softly, breaking the tense silence. ¡°Why don¡¯t you sit down?¡±

    Anna, gnawing on her nails, only paced faster. ¡°There are other seers in River, Blanc! Why am I the one stuck with this? I¡¯m fine providing intel, but now I¡¯m hiding one of the most wanted criminals in my home. My sweet home! How long are you planning to stay here?¡±

    Blanc chuckled at her rising panic. ¡°Kicking your boss out of your sweet home, are we?¡± he teased, thoroughly amused.

    ¡°Why me?¡± Anna dropped to her knees dramatically, throwing her hands in the air in exaggerated despair.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re the chosen one,¡± Blanc replied, his tone playfully mocking.

    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna be the chosen one!¡± she cried, glaring at him with watery eyes, her over-the-top reaction drawing another chuckle from Blanc as he leaned back in his chair.

    <hr>

    Gazier, the commander of Rivermirror¡¯s most fearsome fighting force, unleashed his men with a single brutal order: eradicate the River soldiers. It was less about strategy and more about unleashing their pent-up rage and frustration. In Rivermirror, where internal disputes were common, there was one universal truth¡ªthey all hated the River soldiers.

    The massacre began without hesitation. Gazier¡¯s forces tore through the invading troops with merciless efficiency, exploiting the soldiers'' inexperience and complacency after years of peace. The men under Gazier¡¯s command were seasoned killers who had known death as intimately as a first name, their savagery unmatched.

    Their mission wasn¡¯t about heroism or protecting the people of Rivermirror. No, this was about feeding their insatiable thirst for violence. For Gazier¡¯s men, the order to go rampant was the fulfillment of a dark and twisted dream.

    The aftermath was a grotesque tapestry of blood and carnage. Streets, alleys, and homes were littered with the remains of fallen soldiers. Bodies lay torn apart, their lower halves separated yet futilely dragging their broken forms through the dust, leaving trails of entrails behind.

    The chaos inspired others¡ªordinary residents who had never held a weapon¡ªto join the slaughter, driven by pure, unfiltered rage at the invaders.

    But amid the destruction, the true depths of human depravity revealed themselves. Two of Arlin¡¯s daughters, young recruits in the military, were captured, violated, and ultimately bound for a fate worse than death, to be sold into the shadows of the sex trade once the fires of battle had burned out.

    <hr>

    Evee, wearing revealing attire, was approached at the bar by a student.

    ¡°I noticed you from across the room and had to come over,¡± he said, ¡°What¡¯s your name, gorgeous?¡±

    Noticing the emblem on his school uniform, Evee quickly responded, ¡°Why don¡¯t we skip the small talk and fast-forward to the part where I¡¯m in your bed?¡± she teased, her boldness seeming out of place, yet the man, captivated by her allure, didn¡¯t question it.

    Before long, they found themselves in his dorm¡ªinside the heavily guarded and monitored academy. He wasted no time pushing her onto the bed, his approach aggressive yet controlled.

    Her cheeks flushed as he removed his clothes, revealing his impressive size. He climbed on top of her, moving with smooth, deliberate motions. Her tiny shirt came off first as their lips met in a passionate embrace, while he gently stimulated her.

    In a flurry, she stripped off her miniskirt along with her underwear. As he reached for a condom on his desk, she halted him, locking him in place with her thighs and flipping him over to take the dominant position.

    ¡°I¡¯m on birth control, no need to worry,¡± she whispered in his ear as she took him in fully, initially trembling from the pleasure.

    He was so immersed in the moment, shock evident on his face, that he could hardly speak. She moved rhythmically against him, her eyes occasionally rolling back in ecstasy.

    ¡°Wait, I¡¯m about to¡ª¡± he finally managed, squirming.

    ¡°Inside me,¡± she urged.

    ¡°But it¡¯s too soon. It¡¯s only been a few minutes,¡± he protested.

    ¡°The best few minutes of my life,¡± she moaned, her grinding relentless. ¡°Please, inside of me.¡±

    He complied with her request, his eyes shut and mouth agape as he reached his climax, feeling her walls and the slickness that surrounded them. He kept his eyes closed, trying to regain his composure.

    But then he felt an overwhelming heat¡ªnot from her, but something much hotter, almost searing. He opened his eyes, only to be met with red shockwaves radiating from her heart, her eyes glowing with intense heat. Her skin began to crack like stones under pressure. The shockwaves intensified, growing stronger until she could no longer contain them.

    ¡°Thank you, you¡¯ve greatly assisted our cause,¡± she said, her voice sounding like the roar of flames. ¡°Your life began from a woman¡¯s body, and it ends in one, you lucky bastard.¡±

    He barely had time to react before she exploded, engulfing his room, then his entire dorm, followed by all the neighboring ones. Before long, the explosion leveled the entire academy, shattering every protective measure in place¡­

 Chapter 23 - Black Mirror

    Chapter 23

    Black Mirror

    Music: Heavy Is The Crown by Mike Shinoda, Emily Armstrong

    The tension in the interrogation room was palpable, the dim light casting shadows over Commander Bleak¡¯s stern expression. ¡°You owe him no allegiance, Emily,¡± he said firmly, his voice cutting through the silence. ¡°To my knowledge, he even defiled you.¡±

    The words hung heavy in the air, echoing in the isolated dark room, empty except for two chairs and the metallic table that separated them. Emily¡¯s gaze drifted past the commander, landing on the one-way mirror behind him. Her disappointment was evident as she spoke, her voice laced with bitterness. ¡°Unfuckingbelievable! And I thought I could trust you.¡±

    Behind the mirror, Daryl stood silently, his face a mixture of shame and regret as he absorbed her words.

    Bleak¡¯s voice was steady as he pressed on. ¡°What happened? Every detail, please.¡±

    ¡°I already told you everything. What more do you want to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Tell me again,¡± Bleak interrupted, his tone polite but unyielding.

    Emily exhaled sharply, her frustration mounting. ¡°He kidnapped me with his friend. He killed his friend so he could have the entire profit. He took me to Binge, but the deal was called off and¡ª¡± She faltered, unable to finish before Bleak interjected.

    ¡°Why did Binge call off the deal?¡± The commander¡¯s eyes locked onto hers, his intensity unwavering.

    Sweat began to form on Emily¡¯s forehead as she hesitated. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she admitted, her voice betraying her unease.

    ¡°Then how do you know the deal was called off?¡± Bleak pressed, his questions striking with surgical precision. Emily¡¯s fingers twitched nervously as she struggled to form a coherent answer, her thoughts racing.

    With a subtle hand signal, Bleak instructed the guards to open the door. Daryl entered, carrying a chair, which he placed next to Emily before sitting down. Bleak¡¯s gaze shifted between them as he continued, his observations cutting deep. ¡°Unusual fidgeting, inconsistent gestures, microexpressions, speech patterns, evasiveness. It is obvious you are hiding something, Emily. Perhaps something Mr. Dawson would know, since he is my informant?¡±

    Emily¡¯s silence was deafening as Daryl, reluctantly, relayed every piece of information she had entrusted to him. Her head hung low, her thoughts swirling with the consequences this betrayal would bring.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°Can I trust that all information will be kept confidential?¡± Emily finally asked, her tone utterly defeated.

    Bleak¡¯s response was measured but uncompromising. ¡°Let¡¯s see,¡± he began. ¡°Nursing a wanted criminal to health, working with him to kidnap a child with the intent of illegal experimentation, and in the process shooting said child. For those crimes, I can pull some strings and erase them since your parents have served this city well. They happened on Rivermirror grounds, so it should not be a fuss. But purposely withholding valuable intel of a terrorist while he is being hunted directly violates River¡¯s constitution. In the court of law, only the truth must be spoken, and the truth involves your entire endeavor, which complicates everything. So no, I cannot keep this information confidential. If found guilty, your moral compass will be in question, and you will serve a minimum of eight years in prison.¡±

    Emily bowed her head, her body trembling with fear and anger. Daryl placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. ¡°Now what?¡± she roared, her voice filled with despair.

    ¡°You will be held under house arrest effective immediately while awaiting your trial. The logistics will be discussed at a further date,¡± Bleak declared firmly.

    Emily¡¯s voice cracked as her thoughts spiraled. ¡°How am I going to explain this to my parents? I am a disappointment¡ªI didn¡¯t ask for any of this! I can¡¯t go to jail. They¡¯re going to think of me as impure, and I cannot marry into a noble family like they would prefer. They will see me as a monster! Everyone will! My siblings¡­ I can¡¯t bear to see my mother¡¯s face.¡± The turmoil within her was suffocating, her panic palpable even in silence.

    The journey home was subdued, Bleak personally escorting Emily without Daryl. A piece of infused technology was attached to her nape¡ªa tracker to ensure her compliance during house arrest. Upon reaching home, Emily stormed inside without a word to her family, slamming her bedroom door shut and locking it.

    On her bed lay a parchment, unsigned and ominous. She unfolded it and read:

    ¡°You will be found guilty a week from now. I¡¯ve seen it. Fuck around and find out if you want to call my bluff or come help me, and in return I¡¯ll ensure your freedom in Rivermirror. If we have a deal, be on your way to city square right now. Take a gun with you, you¡¯ll need it.¡±

    As she processed the words, a deafening explosion shook the air. The academy, now engulfed in flames, was the epicenter. The blast¡¯s force obliterated nearby buildings, leaving ash and destruction in its wake. The skies darkened with smoke, red-tinted clouds casting an apocalyptic glow as shockwaves rippled through the city, evaporating those caught too close.

    Taking advantage of the chaos, Emily worked swiftly. She retrieved a portable mirror and her prototype tweezers, etched with runes and powered by a green core. With precise movements, she disabled the tracker and transferred it to her sleeping cat. The device rebooted, fusing with the animal¡¯s spine as Emily prepared her escape.

    Packing essentials into her backpack, she donned a hooded outfit and holstered a gun. Driven by fear, desperation, and a sliver of hope, she sprinted into the chaos.

    The thick smoke obscured her vision, but as she approached the city square, the sound of combat drew her attention. Commander Joana, equipped for battle, fought fiercely against Evee, whose fiery form blazed with intensity despite her diminishing strength. Joana¡¯s blade-like arms struck with precision, her mechanical body granting her the upper hand.

    Emily¡¯s heart raced as she watched Evee falter. Joana delivered a critical blow, stabbing Evee through the heart. Emily¡¯s thoughts raced back to the note: ¡°Take a gun with you, you¡¯ll need it.¡±

    Quietly closing the distance, Emily observed Evee struggling to heal herself, vulnerable and weakened. Whispering, ¡°I understand, Hound,¡± she steadied her aim and fired.

    The shot pierced the darkness, its roar reverberating through the chaos. The bullet struck true, shattering Joana¡¯s skull¡ªthe only part of her still human. Her body collapsed with a resounding thud, lifeless on the pavement.

 Chapter 24 - From Ashes, We Rise

    Chapter 24

    From Ashes, We Rise

    Music: Past Lives by Ciaffa

    The roar of a gunshot cut through the air, breaking the suffocating silence. The commander¡¯s backup, trained to respond without hesitation, immediately redirected their focus toward its origin.

    ¡°Come on!¡± Evee called out, her voice sharp and urgent as she sprinted through the haze of chaos. She didn¡¯t give Emily a chance to process or second-guess. Instinctively, Emily followed, her feet pounding against the ground as they disappeared into the smoke that choked the city.

    The devastation they left behind was unimaginable. With the destruction of Ebonspire Academy, River''s hope for maintaining its supremacy had all but crumbled. What little control the soldiers had managed to maintain evaporated, replaced by an uncontrollable panic that spread like wildfire.

    The academy lay in ruins¡ªa massive crater at its heart marked ground zero. The once-grand institution was reduced to rubble, with nearby buildings incinerated and structures within a three-mile radius fractured, barely standing. Over five thousand lives were lost in an instant: students, teachers, researchers, visiting families. The names of the dead would linger like ghosts in the minds of the survivors.

    Above the wreckage, the ash hung in the air, a thick, unnatural cloud spreading outward like the breath of some monstrous entity. It wasn¡¯t just ash¡ªit was tainted, carrying the residues of failed experiments, corrupted magic, and unstable technology. This radioactive fallout didn¡¯t just kill; it transformed.

    Evee¡¯s true ability was far more insidious than a simple explosion. The ash she had unleashed twisted the laws of life and death. Those who inhaled it or came into direct contact with it were consumed. Their flesh charred and blackened, their minds dissolved into a hive-like connection. They became feral infernal soldiers, their bodies ablaze with flames no water could extinguish, their very existence a curse on the land.

    These infernals rampaged through the streets, burning everything in their path¡ªbuildings, trees, people. Their screams were no longer human but guttural howls that echoed through River¡¯s shattered streets. Mothers clutched their children as they fled blindly, desperate to escape the flames and the monsters. Some who tried to flee were caught by the ash and succumbed, their bodies becoming one with the fiery hive. The streets were filled with a madness that even the most hardened soldiers couldn¡¯t contain.

    Emily, newly teleported to Rivermirror with Evee, felt the weight of what had just happened crush her. She sank into herself, the image of her family¡ªher parents, her sister¡ªburned into her mind. She had abandoned them. Left them for dead. And now, she could never go back. Her stomach churned, and her hands trembled, but she forced herself to swallow the bile rising in her throat. She had to survive. To live in Rivermirror¡¯s merciless world, she had no choice but to harden her heart.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Evee¡¯s voice broke through Emily¡¯s haze. It wasn¡¯t a question born of suspicion but of curiosity, as if she were trying to understand the stranger who had helped her.

    ¡°She¡¯s with me,¡± a voice answered from the shadows. Hound emerged, his steps measured, his appearance unsettlingly calm and unbloodied despite the destruction around him.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Evee nodded, her gaze lingering on Emily as if in silent gratitude before walking away.

    Emily and Hound traveled in silence to his hideout¡ªan abandoned underground shelter, damp and cold. The walls were lined with symbols, runes, and inscriptions, all radiating a faint dark glow. Emily couldn¡¯t help but feel the oppressive weight of the place as they descended deeper.

    Finally, unable to hold back, Emily asked, ¡°What do you want from me?¡±

    Hound stopped abruptly, turning to face her. His expression was unreadable as he gestured toward the walls. ¡°Look around, Emily. What do you see?¡±

    ¡°Characters, runes, inscriptions¡­¡± she hesitated, her eyes narrowing as she noticed something deeper. ¡°... a dark attribute symbiote. What will you do with this power?¡±

    His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension. ¡°You help me, I keep you out of prison. You¡¯re not here to ask questions.¡±

    Emily stood her ground, crossing her arms. ¡°I know you, Hound. I will not serve as an accessory to your murders or whatever you have planned.¡±

    Hound sighed, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. Slowly, he began to strip off his shirt, revealing the intricate runes etched across his body in deep blue ink. The sight was both mesmerizing and harrowing. ¡°I watched my mother die, overworked as a slave,¡± he began, his voice trembling. ¡°I should have pushed her off the building¡­ It would¡¯ve been the greatest mercy I could¡¯ve offered her.¡±

    Emily said nothing, sensing he needed to speak. She sat down, her gaze unwavering as he continued.

    ¡°That was the first time I killed. I killed our master, his wife¡­ even his children. Even the girl Puck wanted.¡± His voice cracked, and tears began to stream down his face. ¡°I told Puck I was done being weak. I blamed myself for her death. I promised him that, no matter what, we¡¯d stick together. That I¡¯d have his back. That I¡¯d give my life for his.¡±

    The pain in his voice was palpable, raw. Emily¡¯s heart ached for him, but she knew this wasn¡¯t the time for comfort.

    ¡°I started smoking and drinking, but it wasn¡¯t enough to ease the pain and anger. Then the ether addiction began. It helped me cope with the grief. But even that wasn¡¯t enough.¡±

    ¡°The side effects are great,¡± Emily interjected softly, ¡°Excessive and nonstop abuse of ether is why your body depends on it. Why you burn when you transform¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Hound admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°And why my emotional state is always numb. It doesn¡¯t just take away the grief¡ªit takes away everything. And for the first time since my mother died, I¡¯m refraining from it. My body has to be clean for the symbiote to work.¡±

    Emily hesitated before asking, ¡°How are you feeling now?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all coming back,¡± he confessed, his voice breaking. ¡°My parents¡¯ death, Puck¡¯s murder¡­ everything.¡± His shoulders shook as sobs wracked his body. ¡°I don¡¯t recognize myself anymore. So help me, Emily.¡±

    Her gaze softened as she placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°You were a student at Ebonspire Academy, weren¡¯t you? I¡¯m putting my life in your hands. I know I can¡¯t undo the past¡­ but we can build a future from the rubble.¡±

    Hound¡¯s voice steadied, though the sorrow lingered. ¡°The reason they call me Hound¡­ it¡¯s a name I gave myself for what I¡¯ve done. But I want to create a world where children don¡¯t face the horrors I did.¡±

    Emily¡¯s voice cracked as she asked the question weighing on her heart. ¡°When you look far into the future you want to create, do you see River still standing?¡±

    He hesitated, then shook his head. ¡°No. All I see is death, anger, fire, and steel. In both River and Rivermirror. But from that destruction, we can create something new.¡±

    Tears welled in Emily¡¯s eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. She glanced at the runes on his chest and smirked faintly, trying to lighten the mood. ¡°First of all, your main rune arrangement is wrong. What would you do without me?¡±

    A faint smile crossed Hound¡¯s lips as he muttered, ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

 Chapter 25 - The Devils Reincarnation

    Chapter 25

    The Devil¡¯s Reincarnation

    Music: Dark Knight Dummo by Trippie Redd

    The name Evee sparked fear in every man¡¯s heart. It had been a week since River soldiers stepped foot in Rivermirror. While most were able to migrate from the infected area, tens of thousands of River citizens were absorbed into the aftermath. Their houses burned, their families burned, joining the infernal. It spread like a virus until it annihilated a quarter of River.

    However, the city made a speedy recovery, restoring a makeshift balance. Despite the recovery, a lingering unease hung in the air like smoke that refused to dissipate.

    ¡°They¡¯re always a step ahead¡­ almost like they survey us. What am I missing?¡± Bleak muttered, jotting on his whiteboard. The squeaks of the marker echoed through the dimly lit, isolated room. His gaze drifted over the scattered notes, connecting fragments of information like pieces of a puzzle. ¡°What are you thinking, Emily? Leaving River will only complicate your sentence.¡±

    Bleak paused, his brow furrowed, as he connected the misplaced points. He recalled Daryl¡¯s testimony about Hound seeing into the future. ¡°I see! Perhaps your dark times spent in the underworld molded you.¡±

    His voice sharpened as if speaking directly to an unseen adversary. ¡°If my guess is right, then you can hear me, Hound. And perhaps you already know how I¡¯m planning to go about reaching you. I want a meeting with the founder of the Seers. Help me organize that, and we will discuss¡­ peace¡ªno, coexistence.¡±

    <hr>

    Three days later¡­

    ¡°Stay still, this is the last one!¡± Emily screamed at Hound, holding a syringe containing the last piece of the liquefied symbiote, aiming for his eye. ¡°You¡¯re such a baby!¡±

    After a long struggle, she managed to insert the needle. Hound stayed still, gritting his teeth in hopes it wouldn¡¯t last long. She gently imbued the fluid and retracted the needle.

    Keeping her distance as a safety measure, she asked, ¡°How do you feel?¡±

    He stood still, waiting for something to happen, but all he felt was the tiny puncture wound healing. ¡°I feel like I just got my eye stabbed!¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°Anything else?¡± she asked, tilting her head with a teasing smirk.

    ¡°What am I supposed to¡ª¡± His words cut off abruptly as his head began to pound. All the muscles in his body gave out, causing him to collapse onto the floor like a ragdoll.

    Emily, her instinct for self-preservation kicking in, took a step back, creating further distance. ¡°You okay there?¡± she asked cautiously, her voice trembling as she continued to walk backward. ¡°You¡¯re scaring me, Hound.¡±

    Black flames engulfed his body, burning away every last shred of flesh, evaporating the fat beneath his skin, and charring muscle and bone. All that remained were his bones, eerily intact despite the destruction.

    From his bones sprouted a black fluid¡ªthe symbiote. It moved and enveloped his skeleton, regenerating his flesh. The fluid coursed through his nerves and internal organs before finally reforming his skin. All the while, the flames burned intensely, melting the ground beneath him.

    Suddenly, the weakened door burst open, barely hanging on its hinges. Bleak entered, armed to the teeth. Emily glanced at Hound, realizing he was still burning and unconscious. She grabbed a longsword from the nearby counter and stepped protectively in front of him.

    ¡°How did you find me?¡± she demanded, her voice steady but laced with tension.

    ¡°I know you, Emily. Top of your class every year. It wasn¡¯t difficult to figure out that you¡¯d break out of the tracker. That¡¯s why I added my own tweak to it. But now I wonder: are the fairy tales you told Daryl and me true?¡±

    Bleak¡¯s steps carried the confidence of a predator stalking its prey. ¡°I¡¯ll be taking you in, and with you, the terrorist¡¯s head.¡±

    In a flash, his retractable claws sprang out of their compartments. He struck first, aiming directly for Hound. Emily blocked perfectly, but her lack of physical strength sent her reeling.

    After regaining her balance, she swung the sword, feinting first before changing direction. The blade barely missed Bleak¡¯s throat as he retreated. Her unwavering gaze locked onto his, her determination palpable.

    Bleak raised an eyebrow, impressed. ¡°They don¡¯t teach this fighting style at the academy. You immobilize your opponent first and provide an opportunity for their surrender. Only if they refuse do you execute them. Or are you forgetting your lessons already?¡±

    ¡°I have a new instructor now,¡± Emily replied, shifting into an offensive stance. ¡°And he says every strike should be a killing strike.¡±

    Behind her, a series of cracks erupted. Hound¡¯s body moved, each motion accompanied by the sound of snapping bones. He managed to rise into a slouched position. His eyes glowed a brilliant silver, his body fractured like molten rock. Emily darted to grab a gas mask from the counter as the room filled with unbearable heat and thick smoke. Flames flickered from his head like a crown, casting him as a devil risen from the depths.

    ¡°You speak of peace, yet your actions are that of war,¡± Hound¡¯s voice roared, echoing through the shelter.

    Bleak chuckled, unfazed. ¡°I know your secret. If I don¡¯t plan my future, it creates more variables for you, making me unpredictable.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re willing to bet your life on a hunch?¡± Hound retorted.

    The tension between them thickened as both men chuckled menacingly, their laughter blending with the crackling flames and suffocating smoke that consumed the room.

 Chapter 26 - Tears of Insanity

    Chapter 26

    Tears of insanity

    Music: Come Little Children by Erutan

    ¡°Well, at least that¡¯s what I thought initially, but you survived a dark symbiote. That changes everything,¡± Bleak stated, retracting his claws. ¡°A possibility I had planned for.¡±

    Hound circled him slowly, as if strategizing his next strike, waiting for the perfect moment. ¡°Here without backup, not even a means of communication. You must be a man with a death sentence.¡±

    Bleak stood confidently in the center of the room, fully aware of Hound¡¯s every micro-movement. ¡°Why don¡¯t you take a peep at the future? More specifically, a few minutes from now at Demi Hotel, room number 14.¡±

    Hound complied, using Bleak¡¯s soul fragments¡ªthe strongest connection to the vision. One of his eyes began to burn rapidly, silver-lined smoke streaking from it as he continued to circle. His other eye remained silver, burning but steady. This new ability, part of his evolution, allowed him to scavenge webs of the near future while remaining conscious in the present.

    Then, his eye went dark. The darkness transitioned into a bloom, which, after stabilizing, revealed Argent confined in a glass encasing filled with water. Her hair was shaved, and her arms were locked into rune-inscribed shackles designed for the neutralization of cores, explaining her inability to break free.

    She floated lifeless, like decomposing dead fish in water. Hound¡¯s eyes transitioned back into darkness, slowly returning to the present as the intense burn subsided to a sizzle.

    ¡°I paid your friend a little visit. Insurance, if you may,¡± a smirk appeared on Bleak¡¯s face as Hound¡¯s hatred for him deepened.

    ¡°I programmed the compartment with my life force. I can activate it with a single thought, and if I die, she drowns. So why don¡¯t we all calm down and have a civil conversation?¡± Bleak claimed.

    Hound was conflicted, remembering Argent¡¯s words: ¡°Promise me you won¡¯t harm the cause I stand for¡ªBinge¡¯s dream. I couldn¡¯t live a normal life, but one day, when I¡¯m retired, I want my children to live peacefully.¡± For the first time since his addiction to ether, and since he lost his parents, he felt the value of others¡¯ lives. However, logic opposed this sentiment; a necessary sacrifice was needed to rid Rivermirror of one of the two remaining commanders.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    There are four phases to drowning: first, the struggle, lasting up to sixty seconds; second, oxygen deprivation, approximately one to two minutes after submersion; irreversible brain damage occurs at the four to six-minute mark; and finally, death within six to ten minutes. That gave Hound four minutes to travel a quarter mile to the hotel.

    Leaving Emily would break his promise to her, but neglecting Argent¡¯s condition would have severe consequences. Choosing Emily¡¯s freedom over Argent¡¯s life would make him an accessory to her death and, according to the tattoo artist¡¯s warnings, ¡°This isn¡¯t just any tattoo. It marks you as part of a violent group. Step into River, and you¡¯ll be arrested on sight. Worse, your soul will be bound to hers. If she dies, especially by your hand, your soul shatters into fragments. You¡¯ll be left a husk¡ªa mindless, broken shell. Are you sure about this?¡±

    Hound glanced at Emily, who understood the situation just by looking at him. ¡°Go! I understand,¡± she said, standing in an offensive stance against the commander.

    Hound bolted for the exit, zooming past Bleak in an instant blaze of fire. Bleak activated the compartment. If he wasn¡¯t getting the talk he wanted or a formal introduction to Binge, there was no need to keep her alive.

    Hound sprinted through the streets of Rivermirror, burning leaves and running past stores and buildings on fire, desperately hoping it wasn¡¯t too late. A few seers noticed his shade of fire and followed beside him. ¡°Spread the word, there¡¯s a River commander in my underground shelter,¡± he said.

    The six seers heeded and split up while securing the perimeter of the shelter. Two continued to follow him. They didn¡¯t dare ask questions but trusted that if he was in such a hurry, it was indeed an emergency. Many more seers joined his sprint along the way, each adding their unique abilities and personalities to the chase¡ªsome using stealth, others harnessing elemental powers, each driven by their own loyalty and urgency.

    When they arrived at Demi Hotel, they had hit the five-minute mark. They rushed through the lobby as guards attempted to obstruct and contain them. The seers cleared a path for him, killing a few newly hired amateur guards in the process with coordinated precision and unspoken understanding.

    Hound sprinted up the stairs, his fire spreading onto the walls, accidentally knocking a pregnant woman down in a tackle. She burned to ash, leaving only remnants of her bones behind. Finally, they reached door number 14. Without hesitation, he burned a human-sized hole into it, only to meet the sight of the glass compartment filled to the brim with Argent¡¯s unmoving body inside.

    Burning through the glass as Hound had planned did not work. The glass was ether-infused. Desperation turned into hopelessness, accompanied by evaporated sweat and tears as time dragged on. All the seers that accompanied him finally joined in, helping to break the glass, which only cracked after three minutes.

    ¡°Stop,¡± Hound said, dropping to his knees in defeat. ¡°She¡¯s dead.¡±

    ¡°We have been trained in CPR, sir. Don¡¯t lose hope,¡± a seer responded, planting a diluted explosive directly on the glass.

    ¡°The tattoo that brands me as a seer was just dissolved and evaporated. SHE¡¯S DEAD!¡± he screamed as the explosion detonated, finally breaking the glass. The water swarmed in his direction, evaporating and steaming before making contact with him. And there she lay. Hound¡¯s hands wouldn¡¯t stop shaking as he controlled his heat to feel her nonexistent heartbeat.

    ¡°How? HOW?!¡± he screamed, breaking down in tears and falling to the ground beside her. He cried until there were no more tears left in him.

 Chapter 27 - A Throne Born From Ash

    Chapter 27

    A Throne Born From Ash

    Music: Toxic by 2WEI

    Tears streaked his face with a precision that seemed almost artistic, each drop accentuating the anguish as he gently caressed Argent¡¯s cold, pale face. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if savoring every fleeting moment of connection with her lifeless form. At a distance, the seers whispered among themselves, their eyes flitting between him and the others, their murmurs laced with doubt and suspicion about his loyalty. Despite the weight of their judgment, Hound lay there, unmoving, consumed by his grief for the remainder of the day.

    ¡°A streaking silver flame, burning through the streets, destroying property and reducing citizens to ash without discernible cause... there¡¯s only one person who fits the description,¡± Blanc stated as he entered the room, stepping through the shattered remnants of the door with his cane tapping rhythmically against the floor. Emily trailed closely behind him, her steps cautious, while Bleak staggered in after them, his face battered and bruised from his clash with the seers.

    ¡°Leave us,¡± Blanc commanded, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of authority. The others obeyed without hesitation, disappearing like ghosts from the room. Only Hound remained by Argent¡¯s side, his body a monument of silent sorrow. Bleak, battered and bound by chains, slumped against the wall. Emily stood with a syringe filled with liquified ether in her grasp, her expression unreadable. A seer lingered nearby, his tools of torture gleaming ominously, and Blanc himself stood at the center, a picture of restrained grief and unshaken composure.

    ¡°I brought this in case you¡¯d prefer to numb yourself from the pain of her loss,¡± Emily offered, crouching beside Hound. She held the syringe out to him, her tone soft, yet there was a trace of hesitation in her voice. ¡°With the symbiote fully integrated now, your body should metabolize ether naturally.¡±

    She tilted the cold steel needle toward her neck and injected herself. Her eyes glowed a vivid green, her skin shimmering faintly as her veins illuminated a bright, unnatural blue before settling back into their normal tone. ¡°It clears my head,¡± she admitted, her voice quieter now, tinged with something that bordered on vulnerability. ¡°I understand why you were addicted.¡±

    Hound¡¯s gaze shifted briefly toward her, his voice low yet firm as he replied, ¡°Your body is not core-infused. You¡¯re penniless without your parents¡¯ wealth. You¡¯ve no job, and an ether addiction will destroy you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve altered the formula to make it less harmful to the human body. As I¡¯ve told you before, this is my specialty,¡± Emily countered, her voice sharpening slightly. Without waiting for permission, she injected the remaining ether into Hound¡¯s arm. He didn¡¯t react, nor did he stop her.

    Blanc¡¯s voice broke the silence with a cold jest. ¡°Ironic, isn¡¯t it? Bound by soul ties, enemies turned master and slave. Then again, a dog is always loyal to its master.¡±

    Slowly, Hound rose to his feet, his movements deliberate and heavy with intention. Each step toward Blanc was unhurried, the sound of his boots against the floor echoing ominously in the room. He stopped mere inches away, his hand resting lightly on Blanc¡¯s shoulder. Hound¡¯s gaze bore into Blanc¡¯s unseeing eyes, his voice a quiet yet powerful tide of emotion. ¡°She loved you, Blanc. The way a daughter loves her father.¡±

    Blanc¡¯s stoic mask cracked ever so slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line as he fought to keep his composure. ¡°I know,¡± he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    In a gesture both unexpected and intimate, Hound pulled Blanc into an embrace. Blanc, caught off guard, didn¡¯t resist, his body trembling as he allowed himself, for once, to grieve not as Argent¡¯s superior but as a father mourning a child. His quiet sobs filled the room as Hound¡¯s voice whispered against his ear. ¡°I promised her I wouldn¡¯t harm the cause she fought for. I intend to keep that promise.¡±

    Blanc¡¯s relief was fleeting. Before he could respond, flames erupted from his body, their silver tongues consuming him with a ferocity that left no room for escape. Blanc screamed, the sound raw and primal, yet Hound¡¯s arms held him tight, the flames illuminating his calm, unflinching expression. The seers burst into the room, their movements frantic, but it was too late. By the time they reached Blanc, there was nothing left but ashes.

    ¡°I¡¯ve always hated being called a dog,¡± Hound said, his voice calm but edged with venom. He allowed Blanc¡¯s charred remains to fall to the ground, his hands brushing off soot as if ridding himself of an unpleasant memory. ¡°Perhaps now you¡¯ll understand... respect isn¡¯t earned through servitude. It¡¯s forged through fear.¡±

    He turned to face the seers, his voice rising to a commanding roar. ¡°The organization abides by one sacred rule. You kill the king, you become the king. Isn¡¯t that right?¡±

    The room fell into a heavy silence. The seers¡¯ tattoos burned brightly, their bodies convulsing as if caught between worlds. One by one, they dropped to their knees, their heads bowed low. Their voices rose in unison, trembling as they declared, ¡°Yes, sir!¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Hound said, his voice softer now, but no less commanding. He turned his gaze toward Bleak, a cruel smile playing on his lips. ¡°Now, what shall I do with you?¡±

    At his command, the seers bound Bleak to a chair. Hound positioned Argent¡¯s body upright against a shattered glass pane, his voice soft as he addressed her lifeless form. ¡°I want you to watch this, my dear friend.¡±

    He turned to Emily, his tone gentle yet laced with chilling authority. ¡°Argent never listened. I expect better from you. We¡¯re going to change this island¡ªboth River and Rivermirror. I need us to always be aligned. Am I clear?¡±

    Emily hesitated, her voice faltering as she answered, ¡°Yes... yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Hound¡¯s smile widened. ¡°Now, take a knife from one of the seers.¡±

    ¡°She will skin your entire body clean. Revealing only the skin beneath¡±, he said to Bleak.

    Emily¡¯s hands trembled as she obeyed. Her hesitation was brief, though, and as the blade sliced through Bleak¡¯s skin, precision honed from years at the academy took over. Her expression hardened, the initial reluctance giving way to a grim focus. By the time she reached his feet, a chilling satisfaction gleamed in her eyes.

    The seers prepared a cooking pot with boiling water and a fire underneath at the hotel room as Bleak¡¯s screams and agony went on.

    The room was filled with Bleak¡¯s anguished screams, his cries echoing like a haunting melody. Hound, ever calm, issued his next command. ¡°Now, take the hammer. Break his bones.¡±

    Emily hesitated again but complied. Each swing of the hammer sent shockwaves through the room, the sound of breaking bones blending with Bleak¡¯s desperate pleas. Hound¡¯s laughter rang out, dark and unrestrained, as he watched her work.

    Bleak¡¯s voice cracked, desperation thick in his words. ¡°You haven¡¯t even asked me anything! What¡¯s the point of this without questions?¡±

    Hound¡¯s laughter only grew louder, his tone mocking as he replied, ¡°I don¡¯t care what you have to say... I just want to see you suffer.¡±

    Emily didn¡¯t wait for Hound¡¯s order to swing the large hammer first dislocating his jaw, then shattering the bones in his knees. Then followed, his shattering ribcage. The plastic chair broke from the hammer¡¯s impact.

    When Emily finally paused, breathless and shaking, Hound¡¯s voice cut through the silence like a blade. ¡°She will drag you, and dump you in the pot¡±

    Emily didn¡¯t hesitate this time. As Bleak¡¯s body sank into the bubbling water, his screams rose to an otherworldly crescendo.

    ¡°That¡¯s a good girl,¡± Hound whispered as he hugged her from behind, meeting no resistance from her. His his hands travelled from her stomach to her bloodied curvature of her breasts, then to her neck, and with a smooth slow movement with his hands, he turned her face to meet his, and their lips met passionately as Bleak continued to boil in the pot screaming as if he were possessed, losing the battle of life and death.

    ¡°Why are you quiet Argent?! You¡¯re never quiet! Tell me, Are you proud of me? ARE YOU PROUD?¡±. Hound¡¯s laughter echoed once more, his voice rising in a chilling crescendo.

 Chapter 28 - Seeds of Dominion

    Chapter 28

    Seeds of DOminion

    Music: What they want by Russ

    Six months later¡­

    The trajectory of River¡¯s decline had spiraled into chaos, the scale of its losses growing exponentially. Violent protests erupted in the streets, escalating into uncontrollable riots that forced the imposition of martial law. Rivermirror, in its growing power, severed its ties completely, banishing River¡¯s citizens from its borders. Under the new law, any River resident found within Rivermirror¡¯s territory would face immediate execution if sufficient evidence was presented¡ªunless a Baron explicitly approved their presence. Rivermirror declared itself an independent city, governed by its Barons, with Hound assuming the role of overseer of all Seers. His position was absolute, his influence terrifyingly vast.

    With Binge¡¯s vast knowledge and experience, along with Gazier and Evee¡¯s mastery of core hunting and resource management, the installation of the relay core was a resounding success. Dubbed ¡°Prototype 0,¡± the system became the backbone of Rivermirror¡¯s stability and prosperity, elevating the city into a thriving hub. Rune-constructed farms, orchestrated by Binge, produced a bounty of vegetation, while clean water flowed freely to its citizens, transforming the Barons into figures of reverence. For many, they were gods¡ªproviders of life in a world teetering on collapse.

    Hound, however, was no object of worship. His name inspired fear, his shadow a looming reminder of the cost of disobedience. To offend a Seer was to sign one¡¯s death warrant. Those who crossed them vanished without a trace, their very existence erased as if they had never walked the earth.

    Meanwhile, River, abandoned by neighboring cities out of fear of Rivermirror¡¯s wrath, found itself stranded and isolated, a barren wasteland of desperation and despair.

    <hr>

    ¡°I can¡¯t go lower than 200,000 rupies,¡± Carson, an international tradesman, declared, his tone firm yet edged with a nervous energy.

    ¡°We agreed on 100,000,¡± Emily interjected smoothly, taking a deliberate sip of her tea. The faint clink of the porcelain against her lips punctuated the tension in the air. Her face, once unmarred, now bore two scars shaped like tears that ran down her cheeks¡ªa mark burned into her flesh by Hound himself, a visible symbol of her unwavering devotion.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ¡°That was before I understood the real value of the ether herb,¡± Carson countered, shrugging with an air of feigned indifference. ¡°It¡¯s not exactly popular on the mainland, you know.¡±

    Emily rose from her chair in a single, fluid motion, her movements graceful yet laced with menace. ¡°What a pity,¡± she said, her voice deceptively light. ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll just have to inform Hound that this month¡¯s shipment was beyond our budget.¡±

    Carson¡¯s confident fa?ade cracked. Panic seeped into his voice as he blurted out, ¡°Ms. uh¨C Emily, I hope this doesn¡¯t sour our partnership. Is my safety¡­ guaranteed on the way out?¡±

    A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she approached the door. ¡°You¡¯re in Rivermirror, Carson. Your safety is never guaranteed,¡± she said, turning back to him with a sharp glint in her eyes. ¡°What I can guarantee is that you won¡¯t face any hardships from the Seers¡­ for now.¡± Without another word, she stepped through the doorway, slamming it shut behind her.

    <hr>

    ¡°How did it go, ma¡¯am?¡± her guard inquired, her tone polite yet tinged with curiosity. The guard, a Seer handpicked by Emily herself, carried a lean yet commanding presence. Her speedster abilities coupled with a devilish charm made her an invaluable ally.

    ¡°No ether this month,¡± Emily replied nonchalantly, her tone detached as if the failed negotiation was of no consequence.

    ¡°May I attempt to¡­ negotiate with him?¡± April asked, her hand already resting on the door¡¯s handle, her eagerness barely restrained.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need,¡± Emily responded curtly, her tone firm enough to brook no argument.

    April hesitated, confused by the abrupt dismissal. ¡°But ma¡¯am, Hound¡ª¡±

    ¡°Let me worry about Hound. I said no need,¡± Emily interrupted, her voice carrying an edge that silenced further protest.

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± April said quickly, withdrawing her hand and stepping aside.

    <hr>

    (Hound¡¯s new residence)

    The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the balcony in a golden-red glow as Hound stood silently, his gaze fixed on the skyline. Beside him, Binge leaned against the railing, his demeanor uncharacteristically contemplative.

    ¡°I know we have our differences, Hound,¡± Binge began, his voice measured, ¡°but I¡¯ve always wondered why you don¡¯t offer more¡­ assistance.¡±

    Hound didn¡¯t turn to look at him. His voice was calm, yet there was an unmistakable undercurrent of annoyance. ¡°I have offered my assistance. I taught you how to fight River. I¡¯ve warned you what to avoid. I¡¯ve even saved the other Barons from life-or-death situations on countless occasions. What more do you want from me?¡±

    Binge took a deep, steadying breath, his fingers gripping the railing as if to ground himself. ¡°Long term¡­¡± he started, hesitating briefly before continuing, ¡°What do you see in the future of Prototype 0?¡±

    A soft chuckle escaped Hound¡¯s lips as he finally turned to face Binge. ¡°Ah, so that¡¯s why you¡¯re here,¡± he said, his tone laced with amusement. ¡°The answer is yes. I already know what you¡¯ve done.¡±

    Binge stiffened, his calm demeanor cracking as unease flickered across his face. ¡°Is it too late?¡± he asked, his voice quieter now, tinged with genuine worry.

 Chapter 29 - Webs of Defiance

    Chapter 29

    Webs of Defiance

    Music: To Ashes and Blood by Woodkid

    ¡°A young woman refuses to leave the border, sir!¡± a Seer announced, barging into the conversation with urgency in his voice.

    ¡°River?¡± Hound asked, his tone devoid of interest, not even sparing the Seer a glance.

    ¡°Yes, sir!¡± the man exclaimed eagerly, his body stiff as he awaited Hound¡¯s next words.

    ¡°Then kill her. Such inferior details are beneath me,¡± Hound responded, each word dripping with irritation.

    The Seer hesitated before continuing, his voice wavering slightly. ¡°If I remember correctly, Emily forbade any form of violence toward anyone matching the description. Emily said¡ª¡±

    ¡°Emily said?¡± Hound interrupted, turning his attention to the man. He moved toward him slowly, his footsteps soft but deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware Emily¡¯s authority surpassed mine.¡±

    The Seer bowed his head, his confidence crumbling as Hound drew closer. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, and his voice trembled as he stammered, ¡°I¡ªI made a grave mistake, Baron. It won¡¯t happen again.¡±

    A faint beep broke the tension, drawing Hound¡¯s attention downward.

    ¡°Tell me,¡± Hound continued, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl, ¡°who do you serve? Emily or me?¡±

    Beep! The sound came again, sharper, faster. The Seer¡¯s body stiffened, the slight tremor in his stance betraying his fear. It all clicked in Hound¡¯s mind¡ªthe unusual confusion over hierarchy, the absence of any soul magic in his tear tattoo. This man wasn¡¯t a Seer. He was an assassin.

    Time slowed as Hound processed the realization. His instincts screamed for him to act, but the countdown ticked on. Too late. The bomb strapped to the assassin¡¯s chest was seconds away from detonation. There was no time to counter, no time to run.

    And then came a gust of wind, sharp and precise.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    April, Emily¡¯s guard, blurred into motion, moving faster than the eye could track. In a single fluid motion, she unsheathed her blade and sliced through both wires connected to the bomb, severing them cleanly just as the timer hit zero.

    Emily¡¯s face darkened as the pieces fell into place. ¡°I¡¯d recognize that design anywhere,¡± she said, drawing her dagger. Without hesitation, she rushed forward, closing the distance between herself and the assassin before April could react.

    The assassin revealed a rapier from beneath his cloak, meeting Emily in a clash of steel. He swung with practiced precision, his blade a blur as he aimed for her vitals. Emily dodged the first three strikes, each swing narrowly missing her by mere inches. Her movements were deliberate, calculated. When she spotted an opening, she lunged forward, driving her blade into his gut with surgical accuracy.

    She quickly retreated, her instincts guiding her to maintain distance as the effect of her blade¡¯s poison began to take hold. The assassin¡¯s movements faltered as his body betrayed him, paralysis creeping through his limbs.

    Emily seized the opportunity, pinning him by the neck against the wall. His body convulsed violently, his breath ragged as foam bubbled from his mouth. ¡°You¡­ traitor,¡± he muttered through clenched teeth. His voice was hoarse, his words weak but laced with venom. ¡°She¡¯s¡­ waiting for you¡­ at the border. By the hunting den.¡±

    His final words were drowned in violent spasms as his body shook uncontrollably, the poisons coursing through his veins delivering their deadly verdict. The room fell silent as everyone watched, their expressions devoid of emotion. The assassin¡¯s seizures ceased abruptly, his body slumping lifelessly to the ground.

    Emily was the first to speak. Her tone was cold, resolute. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of it.¡±

    ¡°Everyone leave. You stay,¡± Hound ordered, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. The room emptied in an instant, the others vanishing like shadows, leaving only Emily and Hound behind. Binge gave Hound a nod as he departed, silently signaling their conversation would continue later.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of it, Hound. Don¡¯t sweat it,¡± Emily assured him, her voice steady but measured.

    Hound¡¯s gaze bore into her, unrelenting. ¡°You recognize the bomb¡¯s design, don¡¯t you? I want a name. I¡¯ll deal with it myself.¡±

    ¡°A person of your stature shouldn¡¯t concern themselves with someone so trivial,¡± Emily replied, her words deliberate, almost soothing. ¡°I am more than honored to¡ª¡±

    Her words were cut short as Hound¡¯s hand shot out, gripping her throat with brutal force. Emily gasped, her hands instinctively reaching for his arm, but she didn¡¯t resist further. She knew better.

    Her breaths came in shallow, desperate bursts as her veins pulsed against her skin. Tears welled in her eyes, turning red as the pressure mounted. Hound¡¯s grip tightened, smoke curling from his fingers as his temper flared.

    ¡°I don¡¯t take attempts on my life as a jest,¡± Hound roared, his voice reverberating through the room. His eyes glowed faintly, the heat emanating from his body threatening to burn her alive. But just as quickly as his rage ignited, he released her, stepping back to regain control.

    Emily collapsed to her knees, coughing violently as she fought to draw breath. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ Mavis,¡± she rasped, her voice barely audible.

    Hound¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°And who the fuck is that again?¡±

    ¡°From the Dawson family¡­ Daryl¡¯s daughter,¡± she managed, her voice still hoarse.

    Hound¡¯s confusion deepened, but his suspicion sharpened. ¡°And you care for this¡­ Mavis so much that you¡¯d disregard a direct order?¡± His tone was dangerously calm, his words laced with accusation. ¡°You want to deal with this on your own, don¡¯t you? Fine. Bring me her head before dawn.¡±

    He turned to leave, his steps echoing in the quiet room. But Emily¡¯s voice stopped him cold.

    ¡°And what if I said no?¡± she asked, her tone unwavering, her words defiant.

    Hound froze, his back still turned as he processed her challenge. Slowly, he turned to face her, his eyes narrowing to ensure he had heard her correctly.

 Chapter 30 - Flames of Concequence

    Chapter 30

    Flames of Concequence

    Music: Desperado by Rihanna

    ¡°You may be able to kill your best friend without a second thought, but I¡¯m not you, Hound,¡± Emily said, her voice firm.

    ¡°You do realize I¡¯d be dead if not for April¡¯s intervention, don¡¯t you?¡± Hound clarified. ¡°Tell me, what do you think would have happened if April was a second late?¡±

    Emily closed the distance, her face etched with sorrow. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Play along, Em. Answer the question,¡± Hound cut her off, his tone unwavering.

    She hesitated but eventually spoke, her words measured. ¡°Well, you would be dead. Binge, too. Everyone in the house, for that matter. And since both of you are Barons, there¡¯d be chaos in Rivermirror¡ªpower struggles, political instability.

    With you gone, she¡¯d take your place as Seer. Binge¡¯s death would destroy everything he built, especially the food supply. He¡¯s the only one who understands how it works.¡±

    Hound gently lifted her face, brushing her hair aside with surprising tenderness. ¡°Do you understand now why she must die?¡±

    Emily¡¯s eyes softened, and she pleaded, her voice trembling. ¡°I don¡¯t ask much of you, so please, do me this favor. Let her live¡­ just this once.¡±

    Hound¡¯s resolve wavered under her sweetness. ¡°Make sure she understands the meaning of consequence.¡±

    She embraced him tightly, burying her face in his neck. ¡°Thank you.¡± With her immediate worry soothed, she brought up another issue. ¡°This month¡¯s shipment was too expensive¡ªno ether.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s alright,¡± he assured, still captivated by her charm. ¡°How close are you to finishing the antidote?¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°Two more days,¡± she whispered. ¡°How much time do we have?¡±

    ¡°The first infection is at midnight. If everything goes as planned, we¡¯ll have a few days,¡± he replied.

    She sighed, her tone shifting. ¡°You¡¯ve been keeping secrets. I don¡¯t appreciate that.¡± Still holding onto him, she pressed, ¡°Tell me everything. What¡¯s happening? How is Binge involved? It¡¯s too late now, isn¡¯t it? Telling me won¡¯t change the future.¡±

    His expression darkened. ¡°Go see your friend. Then we¡¯ll talk.¡±

    <hr>

    (Later That Night at the Border)

    Emily stood across from Mavis, both wary of each other. Emily tossed the severed head of the assassin at Mavis¡¯ feet.

    Mavis stopped the rolling head with her foot, glancing down before smirking. ¡°So it¡¯s true. You¡¯re a Seer now. From such an esteemed family¡­ to such a degrading end. You¡¯re pathetic.¡±

    Ignoring the insult, Emily spoke with unwavering conviction. ¡°This is your first and last warning. Next time, I¡¯ll be taking your life.¡±

    Mavis laughed¡ªa cruel, mocking sound. Her demeanor betrayed Emily¡¯s understanding of who she thought Mavis was. The armor, the unflinching reaction to the severed head¡ªthis was no ordinary foe. Emily realized she needed to make her point clear to her now changed friend.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. This is for your own good,¡± Emily said, detonating a sleeping gas canister and donning a mask.

    Mavis raised her gun, but the dizziness hit her too fast. Darkness consumed her.

    When she woke, she was cuffed to a metal bar in a dimly lit room. Emily sat nearby, calmly reading a book.

    ¡°You¡¯re finally up, sleepyhead!¡± Emily chirped, standing with exaggerated cheer. ¡°Here¡¯s the thing, sweetheart¡ªyou¡¯re trouble.¡±

    Emily grabbed a container and began pouring crude oil over Mavis¡¯ head.

    Mavis¡¯ confidence cracked. ¡°Wait! Emily, what are you doing? You can¡¯t be serious¡ªright?¡±

    Emily remained silent, pouring until the oil drenched Mavis completely. Only when the container was empty did she respond. ¡°I love you. But I need you to understand¡ªthere won¡¯t be a next time.¡±

    ¡°There won¡¯t be!¡± Mavis pleaded, her voice desperate. ¡°I¡¯ll leave it alone. All of it. I understand.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you do,¡± Emily replied coldly. One hand rested on her hip, the other holding a lit match.

    The match hovered over a trail of oil leading to Mavis. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Emily added, her voice calm yet chilling. ¡°I laced the oil with a high-quality healing potion. You¡¯ll burn and regenerate at the same rate¡ªuntil someone hears your screams and helps you. Or until the healing wears off, and you burn to death. Either way, it¡¯ll hurt.¡±

    ¡°EMILY, PLEASE, THIS IS NOT YOU!¡± Mavis screamed as the match fell.

    The fire crawled toward her, and soon, she was engulfed. Her screams filled the room as she writhed in agony. Emily stood by, watching silently.

    ¡°This is better than killing her,¡± Emily whispered, trying to convince herself. ¡°I need to make sure she understands how serious I am. This hurts me more than it hurts her. I hope someone finds her. Please don''t die Mavis¡±

    Emily turned and walked away, pulling up her hood as she stepped into the dark, starry night.

 Chapter 31 - The End of The Beginning

    Chapter 31

    The End of The Beginning

    Music: Feel Like God by Playboy Carti

    At Binge¡¯s lair, the dream began. Once a core of Rivermirror¡¯s hope, it had grown dark and foreboding. Binge¡ªa man who once ended city-wide hunger and fought for peace¡ªhad achieved greatness, but at a cost few would dare to pay.

    The large table, sculpted in the shape of Rivermirror¡¯s map, was where the remnants of the elites gathered. Around it, a fractured council sat, each burdened by their own shadows:

    Binge: With stress plucking his hair one by one and his skin tainted green from the relay core¡¯s toxic exposure, he looked twice his age. The foul smell of death emanated from him, unmistakable and suffocating.

    Gazier: Once loud and brash, he had grown quieter and more calculating, his experiences with Binge teaching him that muscles alone couldn¡¯t solve every problem.

    Evee: Sweet and vibrant on the surface, but her eyes betrayed her¡ªa woman who had seen unspeakable horrors and carried them silently.

    Hound: The calmest and most composed in the room. Armed with knowledge of every answer, every outcome, he held the upper hand.

    Emily: The wildcard. Invited by Binge for reasons unknown, she sat stiffly, her anticipation and unease palpable.

    Hound¡¯s gaze shifted to the two men standing guard behind Binge. Their oversized mechanical arms hissed softly, flames flickering faintly from vents. ¡°Em, am I dreaming, or are those the same guys?¡± he asked, pointing at them.

    Emily¡¯s eyes darted toward the men, her unease deepening. ¡°I think so,¡± she whispered, her voice barely audible.

    Binge¡¯s voice, unusually choppy and aged, broke the tension. ¡°I hope we can move forward¡­ maturely. Mistakes were made, I¡¯ll admit, but this is bigger than us now.¡±

    ¡°You sound like a dying cat,¡± Gazier quipped, barely suppressing a grin. Evee masked her laughter with a forced cough.

    Hound ignored the banter, pulling a thin book from his jacket and placing it on the table. The book was dense with words, its cover plain and unassuming. ¡°Everything you need to know is here,¡± he said. ¡°Each copy is tailored to your role. The events described will occur within the next twelve months, but only if you follow the instructions precisely. Any deviation will render all the books useless.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Evee frowned, her curiosity piqued. ¡°Why do we need the books in the first place?¡±

    Hound didn¡¯t miss a beat. ¡°Look outside,¡± he instructed, glancing at the clock in the corner. ¡°It should have reached this area by now.¡±

    Evee hesitated, her chair scraping loudly as she stood. Her movements were slow, almost predatory, as she approached the red curtains. She pulled them aside to reveal the large glass window. What she saw on the other side made her recoil. Her hands gripped the curtains tightly, her body trembling.

    ¡°What did you see?¡± Binge asked, his voice low, almost unwilling to know the answer.

    Evee said nothing. She returned to the table, grabbed her copy of the book, and sat down, her face pale and eyes wide with fear.

    Hound resumed. ¡°Follow the instructions as though your life depends on it. Because it does. I¡¯ve seen all of you die too many times to count, and I¡¯m here to ensure that doesn¡¯t happen. With one exception of course¡±

    He stood, distributing the remaining copies. Each person received one, their names etched on the covers. ¡°You¡¯re to discover the cause of the disease within a month. After that, you die from radiation exposure.¡±

    Binge¡¯s expression remained impassive, as though he already knew his fate. The others, however, struggled to maintain their composure. The grief in their eyes was impossible to hide.

    ¡°Your body will be resurrected moments later, like Evee just saw. But your mind won¡¯t follow. Only the relay core¡¯s influence will remain.¡±

    Gazier¡¯s hunter instincts flared. ¡°Then we should kill him for real when it happens. Cores possessing humans never end well.¡±

    ¡°On the contrary,¡± Hound countered. ¡°You¡¯ll follow the book. When the time comes, do nothing.¡±

    ¡°Thousands, if not tens of thousands, will die. And for what?¡± Evee¡¯s voice was barely a whisper, her disbelief cutting through the room.

    ¡°His death will unite River and Rivermirror,¡± Hound explained. ¡°A catastrophe so great that both sides will fight as one against a common enemy. In twelve months, a new nation will rise from the ashes: Corpsehaven.¡±

    Binge¡¯s laugh was hollow. ¡°I knew it. We should¡¯ve used River¡¯s citizens instead of beast cores as a replacement for the relay core. Beast cores were never compatible with humans. That¡¯s why I¡¯m dying. That¡¯s why everyone will die and resurrect as mindless beings.¡±

    ¡°Not everyone,¡± Hound corrected. ¡°A few will naturally resist the disease. And I¡¯ve already prepared a cure. Tested, of course, by yours truly.¡± He clapped slowly in Emily¡¯s direction.

    Evee¡¯s face lit up with hope. ¡°Then we can end this. Binge doesn¡¯t need to die.¡±

    Hound¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°No. People need to die. Children need to suffer. Binge needs to wreak havoc. Only then will we unite with River and find long-term peace.¡±

    Evee¡¯s hope shattered. ¡°We can¡¯t seriously consider this when we can stop it now¡­¡±

    ¡°Follow the book,¡± Hound said firmly. ¡°Millions of lives depend on it.¡±

    After a long argument, Evee reluctantly backed down, her shoulders heavy with resignation.

    Binge turned to Emily, his voice soft but firm. ¡°I want you to be my replacement. Your devotion to Hound is enough for me to overlook your origins in River. You¡¯re a great talent. Don¡¯t waste it.¡±

    The meeting concluded as each member stood, their burdens heavier than when they arrived. Hound¡¯s gaze lingered on each of them, his tone cold and unyielding. ¡°You will follow the book. I made a promise to Argent, and I intend to keep it. Deviate, and I will personally send you to meet your maker. This is not a threat¡ªit¡¯s a promise.¡±

    With that, he turned toward the window, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. ¡°FROM THE ASHES, WE WILL RISE¡±

 Chapter 32 - The Curse By Hollow Promises

    Chapter 32

    The Curse By Hollow Promises

    Music: Haunting by Hasley

    ¡°I thought I forbade you from continuing this project. The consequences will be unbearable if not properly managed and contained, Vorn! Why don¡¯t you ever heed my warnings?¡± his mentor protested angrily.

    Speechless in defeat, Vorn reached out, touching the glass encasing the relay core. It pulsed rhythmically, like a beating heart. A long silence followed before he turned to face his mentor. ¡°There is more to magic than meets the eye, sir. I know it¡¯s dangerous, but it has the potential to change our lives for the better. As its creator, it¡¯s my responsibility to safeguard it with my life.¡±

    His mentor¡¯s stern gaze didn¡¯t waver. ¡°If anyone catches wind of your success¡ªthis thing...¡± he gestured at the living core, crossing his arms as if to shield himself from its presence.

    ¡°No one will know. I¡¯ll have it secretly transported to River Island. It¡¯s secluded, far from the mainland, and holds no global interest. I trust Erlin to keep it safe there,¡± Vorn insisted, his voice trembling with conviction.

    ¡°I have a better idea, child: destroy it. Better safe than sorry,¡± his mentor said sharply, his tone unyielding.

    ¡°Imagine a world without labor,¡± Vorn pleaded. ¡°A world with artificial intelligence to take on our mundane everyday tasks, a magic system that evolves to advance our technology. Please, sir, just give me a chance to show you.¡±

    His mentor¡¯s expression softened into pity, though his resolve remained firm. ¡°I want it destroyed by the time I return tomorrow. Am I understood?¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Vorn¡¯s shoulders slumped, his silence speaking volumes.

    ¡°Am I understood?¡± the mentor repeated, his voice rising.

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Vorn whispered, his reply barely audible.

    <hr>

    Present Day¡­

    ¡°Back up!¡± a seer shouted, his voice strained as he gestured to a woman standing with two children and her husband. Chaos erupted in the background, the air thick with fear and desperation.

    ¡°I¡¯m not infected,¡± the woman pleaded. ¡°You can check if you want, but please, we need to leave this island. I don¡¯t fear for my life, but for my children¡¯s. Please, let us through.¡±

    The seer¡¯s stance didn¡¯t falter. ¡°Under Hound¡¯s orders, everyone stays on the island. No exceptions. I¡¯m sorry, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Her husband stepped forward, shielding his wife and children. ¡°If not my wife and I, then please, let our children go. I can pay you, whatever you want. I beg of you.¡±

    The seer¡¯s eyes darted to the side. An infected figure sprinted toward them, its guttural wails echoing. ¡°Back up!¡± he repeated, shoving the man. The force sent the woman stumbling, toppling over her children.

    The infected was unsightly. Its decayed flesh was hardened, cracked like tree bark, with dead branches protruding unnaturally from its body. Hollow, glowing red eyes burned in its sockets, and jagged, overgrown teeth jutted from its twisted jaw. Though mindless, it moved with a predator¡¯s cunning, an unnatural intelligence born of its corruption.

    The creature¡¯s speed was terrifying. In seconds, it closed the distance, and before the seer could react, he was in its grasp. The branches sprouting from its body released a cloud of toxic gas, choking the seer instantly. His lifeless body crumpled as the infected tore into him, its claws digging deep into his chest.

    The family scrambled toward an empty boat, their desperation palpable as the creature feasted. The infected tore through the seer¡¯s flesh with sharp, eerie teeth, breaking bones as if they were twigs. A black aura surrounded the creature, the seer¡¯s soul being devoured by its corruption.

    It paused momentarily, savoring the moment, before ripping out the man¡¯s large intestines and stuffing them into its bloodied mouth. The scene was a monstrous display of both hunger and calculated malice¡ªa monster not just driven by instinct, but by something far darker.

 Chapter 33 - Orders From The Baron

    Chapter 33

    Orders From the Baron

    Music: Death Row by Looni

    Bang! The deafening roar of a shotgun echoed across the desolate terrain, shattering the stillness. On one end of the blast, the infected¡¯s head erupted into a spray of blood, decayed flesh, and brown, rotting roots intertwined within its brain. The roots twisted and coiled unnaturally, their dark tendrils hinting at a sinister role in the creature¡¯s horrifying existence. The body crumpled, lifeless, revealing a hollow-eyed seer behind the weapon, his face as cold and unfeeling as the act itself.

    Seven more thunderous shots followed in quick succession. The first two tore through the father who had shielded his family, his body jerking violently as he fell to the ground. The remaining shots were aimed at the fragile wooden boat, the splintering wood sending echoes of destruction into the air. The craft, now riddled with holes, sank further into uselessness, trapping the family in place.

    The seer¡¯s gaze remained unyielding as he strode forward, his gun trained steadily on the mourning woman cradling her late husband. Her sobs filled the air, raw and heart-wrenching, as she tried to calm her terrified children.

    ¡°Step off the boat with your hands on your heads,¡± the seer commanded, his voice sharp and devoid of emotion. His measured steps crunched against the gravel, each step closer heightening the tension.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look back, baby. Raise your hands. We¡¯re gonna be okay,¡± the mother whispered, her voice trembling as she attempted to soothe her children. Tears streamed down her face as they slowly stepped off the boat, their movements shaky with fear.

    The seer did not flinch. His voice remained cold and methodical. ¡°Like I said, under my Baron¡¯s orders, no one is to leave the island. We will escort you to the nearest camp if you¡¯d prefer.¡±

    ¡°But we¡¯re not from Rivermirror! I was born and raised in River, and so are my children. I don¡¯t understand,¡± the woman cried, her voice cracking under the weight of terror. ¡°Under River law¡ª¡±

    ¡°River and Rivermirror laws are no longer valid,¡± the seer interrupted, his tone final. He lowered his gun slightly but maintained a menacing stance. ¡°The Barons are your sole rulers now. Follow their ways, and you get to live to see another day.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°We never voted for them,¡± she protested, her voice breaking with desperation.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got the wrong impression, woman. This has nothing to do with politics. This is a siege. Move it!¡± the seer barked, his tone growing harsher.

    Meanwhile, a separate scene unfolded elsewhere. ¡°Ms. Evee, does it hurt you when you burn?¡± asked Sofia, her small voice tinged with curiosity and concern.

    ¡°Sometimes. It¡¯s not too bad,¡± Evee replied with a soft smile, though her keen eyes caught movement in her peripheral vision¡ªmen approaching.

    ¡°My mom always said not to play with fire. Be careful, okay?¡± Sofia pleaded, her innocent face locking onto Evee¡¯s, ensuring she understood the weight of her words.

    Evee¡¯s smile faltered slightly as she gently prodded, ¡°Speaking of which, where are your parents?¡±

    Sofia¡¯s expression darkened, her small hands clenching tightly. ¡°They left me.¡±

    ¡°A lot of families were separated when the infection started,¡± Evee comforted, wrapping Sofia in a tight hug. ¡°I¡¯m sure they¡¯re out there somewhere looking for you. We¡¯ll find them.¡±

    ¡°No, they left me before the infection,¡± Sofia murmured, her voice trembling. ¡°They went to work, and then there was a really big fire. I waited for a long time, but they didn¡¯t come back.¡±

    Evee¡¯s breath caught. ¡°Where did they work? We can start looking from there.¡±

    ¡°Ebonspire Academy,¡± Sofia whispered. The words hung in the air like a dark omen. Evee¡¯s face paled as realization struck. Her hands trembled, but she steadied herself, pulling Sofia closer. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll take care of you until we find them.¡±

    Her thoughts were interrupted as one of her men approached. ¡°Evee, we secured the perimeter. But there¡¯s something you need to check out. A large group is outside our gates seeking refuge.¡±

    Evee reached into her pocket, pulling out a bloodied, creased book. The pages were worn, marked by time and desperation. She flipped to a red string she had used as a bookmark and read the familiar text:

    On the 11th of the second month of the infection, a large group will approach your camp. Taking them all in will cause a shortage of supplies and food. The shortage will cause greed, and the greed will be the downfall of your camp. However, a portion of the group should do no significant harm. Do nothing, and they will all die five minutes after you have been notified of their presence. Interpret that as you may.

    Closing the book, Evee¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go play with the other kids?¡± she gently excused Sofia, sparing her from the grim decision ahead. She waited until Sofia was far enough out of earshot. ¡°Are there any capable people in the bunch?¡±

    ¡°As far as I know, two vitaecers, a blacksmith, and an engineer,¡± the man replied.

    Evee¡¯s gaze sharpened. ¡°Get them in. They could prove useful. We don¡¯t have room for the rest. Get it done in four minutes.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± the men responded in unison, their voices resolute as they moved to carry out her orders.

 Chapter 34 - Corpsehavens Judgement

    Chapter 34

    Corpsehaven''s Judgment

    Music: Guardian Angel by xxxtentation

    The main gates creaked open, their heavy metal groaning as if protesting the movement. The sound vibrated ominously through the dead city, a low hum beneath the chaotic chatter of the crowd. They pushed and shouted over one another, their voices rising into a cacophony of desperation. As the first few attempted to force their way into the cradle that had opened, they were stopped abruptly¡ªa shimmering rune formation burst to life. A straight line of inscribed bricks behind the gates glowed faintly, inert until unauthorized contact was made, now radiating vibrant energy that repelled them like an invisible wall.

    Guards assigned to duty strode through the distraught crowd. Their presence silenced the mass momentarily, confusion dimming the noise. One of the guards scanned the haggard faces before pointing decisively. ¡°You, you over there, and you with the hat, follow me,¡± he ordered, his voice cutting through the tension.

    ¡°I can¡¯t go with you without my family,¡± the engineer protested, gesturing to an elderly woman and two young girls clinging to her skirts.

    ¡°Bring them along then,¡± the guard replied brusquely, his gaze already moving further into the sea of faces. He scanned the injured, the gaunt, the terrified. It was nearly impossible to distinguish between citizens of River and Rivermirror now. The apocalypse had erased such distinctions. After what felt like an eternity, his eyes locked onto a figure¡ªthe remaining vitaecer. ¡°You come along as well,¡± he commanded.

    Each selected individual was stamped on the back of their hands with an insta-tattoo brand. The mark shimmered faintly, an identification allowing them to pass through the runic protections unscathed. It was also a symbol of affiliation with the city to be built: Corpsehaven.

    The crowd fell silent, holding their breath, hopeful to be chosen next. Their hopes crumbled as the gates began to creak closed, the metallic grind echoing through the still air. Faces twisted in despair, then erupted in rage. A wave of bodies surged against the barrier, clawing, pleading, forcing their way toward salvation. But the barrier responded cruelly¡ªthose who made contact dissolved, their flesh melting away like acid to skin. Screams filled the air as the massive doors slammed shut, sealing the city once more.

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    Desperation turned to primal terror as a piercing screech rent the air. The sound was unearthly, more akin to the cry of a beast than a human. Over the gates flew thick webs, sizzling and disintegrating as they touched the magical barrier. The webs were dense, their size indicating the source¡ªan infected spider, large enough to dwarf a human.

    Inside, Evee sat alone in her dimly lit quarters. The weight of her decisions pressed down on her, an oppressive burden she could not shake. The room was bare, save for a single chair and a small mattress in the corner. Evee stood motionless, staring at a blank wall as if it could offer her solace. Her thoughts swirled with guilt, her helping nature clashing violently with the harsh reality of survival.

    The silence was broken by the soft creak of a door opening. Evee didn¡¯t turn.

    ¡°Why?¡± Justina¡¯s voice cut through the quiet, not a question but an accusation. ¡°Because the stupid book says so?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need this from you right now. Leave. I would like to be alone,¡± Evee said, her voice steady yet trembling as she turned to face Justina. She wiped at her reddened eyes, attempting to mask her tears.

    Justina¡¯s voice softened, the edge replaced with a quiet plea. ¡°We don¡¯t have to listen to him. We can live our own lives¡­ make our own choices.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple, baby,¡± Evee replied, her face etched with sympathy.

    ¡°What is it? Are you afraid of him?¡± Justina pressed, stepping closer. ¡°You are Evee. You brought River to its knees, yet you fear just one man?¡±

    Evee shook her head. ¡°No, I just believe we¡¯re doing the right thing. We¡¯re just going about it the wrong way.¡±

    The proximity revealed the depth of Evee¡¯s sorrow, and Justina¡¯s resolve faltered. She pulled Evee into a tight embrace. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I know it¡¯s never easy being a leader. I¡¯m just upset,¡± she murmured.

    Evee reached for Justina¡¯s face, drawing her into a soft kiss. Their bodies pressed together, fitting like pieces of the same puzzle. Evee gently guided her toward the old, stained mattress in the corner of the room.

    Justina hesitated, her confusion breaking through. ¡°People are dying outside as we speak, and this is all you can think about?¡±

    ¡°As your leader, I need my thoughts to be clear in order to make the right decisions for your survival. And it is your job to clear my thoughts. So shut up and serve your purpose,¡± Evee whispered, her tone quiet yet commanding.

    The words sent a shiver through Justina, her body warming under the intensity. Her protests melted away as Evee pulled her closer onto the mattress. Evee¡¯s lips trailed to her neck, her hands exploring Justina¡¯s thighs as their bodies intertwined.

    Evee paused, her gaze locking onto Justina¡¯s. Her eyes were filled with a mix of authority and tenderness. ¡°What?¡± Justina asked, her face flushed as she tried to cover it with her arm.

    ¡°I understand the consequences of my actions. Don¡¯t take that tone with me ever again. Do you understand?¡± Evee¡¯s voice was firm but soft, her intensity unwavering.

    A long, silent stare followed before Justina nodded in acceptance. She pulled Evee closer, their lips meeting once more as the moment consumed them.