Content Warning: This story contains scenes of violence, including physical and emotional abuse. It explores themes of trauma, mental illness, Physical abusive, verbal abuse and self-harm. Reader discretion is advised. If you are sensitive to these topics or have experienced similar challenges, please proceed with caution.
Mikhail's POV
Despair, betrayal, hatred, and madness—those were the only things I could feel right now. It was as if I were being swallowed by an endless abyss of darkness, spiraling downward into a void of negativity. But this time, I wasn’t just falling—I was plummeting uncontrollably, unable to grasp onto anything that could pull me back to the surface.
A bloodcurdling scream tore through the air, shattering my spiraling thoughts.
"Ahhh!" Liro’s agonized cry sent a violent shiver down my spine. My breath hitched as I watched him being beaten mercilessly by the monster standing before me. His fragile body, already weakened by his wounds, trembled violently under the onslaught. Blood dripped onto the cold, merciless ground, staining it with the price of our suffering. I wanted to look away, wanted to close my eyes and pretend this wasn’t happening, but I couldn’t. I was frozen—paralyzed by the sheer helplessness clawing at my chest.
"Look! Look at him!" Arthuro—Colton's father—grinned in amusement, his voice dripping with cruel satisfaction as he gestured toward Liro’s battered form. "He suffers because of you, Mikhail! This is your fault!"
"No!" My voice cracked, raw with unfiltered agony. I struggled violently against the chains that bound me, but they only dug deeper into my skin, sending waves of pain shooting through my body. "Stop this! Stop hurting him!"
"Stop! Stop!" Lucia’s desperate screams echoed in the chamber as she thrashed against her restraints, her face twisted in terror. Beside her, Colton’s entire body trembled with fury, his wrists bleeding from how hard he had been pulling at his chains. "Let him go, you bastard!" he roared, his voice filled with venomous rage.
But Arthuro only chuckled, a twisted smile spreading across his face. "Oh? Do you want to save him? Then tell me, Mikhail..." His eyes glowed with sadistic delight as he leaned in closer, his voice a whisper of poison. "How much are you willing to sacrifice for him?"
I gritted my teeth, my breathing ragged. My body ached, my mind screamed at me to think, to act, to do something. But the truth was, I had no power here—not while I was chained like an animal. Not while my friends suffered before me.
Another agonizing scream ripped through the air, and my resolve shattered.
"Enough!" I bellowed, my voice carrying the full weight of my desperation. My fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my palms, drawing blood. My entire body trembled with barely contained rage. "If it's me you want, take me! But let Liro go! He’s done nothing to deserve this!"
Arthuro tilted his head, pretending to consider my words. "Oh, Mikhail... You still don’t understand, do you?" He let out a mocking sigh and crouched beside Liro, gripping his bloodied hair and lifting his face for me to see. Liro’s eyes were barely open, glazed with pain and exhaustion, his lips trembling as he struggled to breathe. "It’s never just about you. It’s about all of them. And I’m going to make sure you watch as I break every last one of them... piece by piece."
Arthuro smirked, his eyes gleaming with sick satisfaction as he turned toward Elliot, who stood frozen in place, his expression torn between shock and agony as he watched Liro being tortured before him. Arthuro tilted his head, observing him with amusement before casually extending a hand.
"Lend me that sword of yours," he demanded, his voice dripping with authority.
The room fell silent. All of us stiffened, the tension suffocating as Elliot’s grip on his sword tightened. He hesitated, his fingers trembling slightly as he swallowed hard. "Why?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with unease.
Arthuro scoffed, rolling his eyes as if the question was nothing but a minor inconvenience. "Don't ask questions. Just give it to me," he replied, his tone carrying an air of finality.
For a moment, Elliot remained still, his breathing uneven. His conflicted gaze flickered between Arthuro and Liro, as if he knew—he knew—that whatever was about to happen would be unforgivable. And yet, as if bound by invisible chains, he obeyed. With stiff movements, he unsheathed his sword and handed it over.
None of us could have prepared for what happened next.
In a single, swift motion, Arthuro turned—and plunged the blade directly into Liro’s chest, right where his heart was located.
Time stopped.
The sound of steel slicing through flesh sent a cold, piercing silence through the room. The air grew thick, suffocating, as if the entire world had been swallowed by an abyss. My mind refused to process what I was seeing—Liro’s wide, pain-filled eyes, his lips parting in a silent gasp, his body shuddering as life began to slip away from him. Blood poured from the wound, staining his clothes, his trembling hands weakly grasping at the blade lodged deep within him.
"Liro!" The desperate cries of Ivan, Kael, Lucia, and Colton filled the air, their voices breaking in sheer horror.
Elliot remained rooted to the ground, his face drained of all color, his hands shaking violently. His lips quivered, but no words came out. His eyes—wide, glassy, filled with torment—were locked onto the sight of the very person he had once claimed to love, now bleeding out in front of him.
Something inside me snapped.
It was different from before. The rage that consumed me wasn’t just anger—it was something darker, something uncontrollable, something terrifying. My body trembled, my vision blurred with red, and the chains around me began to crack, the metal groaning under the force of the power surging through my veins.
My breathing grew ragged, shallow, my chest rising and falling with an unnatural rhythm. The air around me turned heavy, charged with an overwhelming energy that sent shockwaves through the ground beneath us.
A eerie, haunting melody of the merpeople’s song echoed through the air, sending chills down my spine. It was a song of mourning, a lament so raw and sorrowful that it felt as though the very ground beneath us trembled with grief. The ocean was far, yet their voices carried through the wind, powerful and terrifying, shaking the very core of my being.
Arthuro’s expression twisted in confusion and irritation as he clutched his ears, his face contorting in pain. "What the hell is that sound?" he growled, his voice strained as the melody grew louder, more piercing. His men screamed in agony, their hands flying to their heads as they dropped to their knees, writhing against the overwhelming force of the song.
And then, with a sudden, searing heat, the chains around me melted.
The metal hissed and dripped like liquid fire onto the cold stone ground, freeing my wrists as I slowly rose to my feet. My entire body trembled, not from exhaustion, but from the sheer, uncontrollable rage surging through me. My vision blurred with crimson fury, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I forced myself to look down at Liro’s lifeless body sprawled before me, his face frozen in an expression of pain and betrayal.
I lost him. Again.
I failed him. Again.
Something inside me shattered beyond repair.
I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms, warm blood trickling down my fingers, but I didn’t care. The air around me grew thick with energy, an invisible force pressing against my skin like a storm about to break.
Arthuro noticed. His smug expression faltered as he took an instinctive step back, his eyes narrowing as he studied me with sudden wariness. "You—"
"You shouldn’t have done that," I whispered, my voice eerily calm despite the rage boiling beneath my skin. My entire body burned with an overwhelming force I could no longer contain, the very atmosphere around us crackling with an unnatural energy. The ground trembled beneath my feet, a deep, rumbling sound echoing through the air as the merpeople’s song grew louder, more desperate.
Arthuro’s men screamed, their bodies convulsing as the melody reached its peak. Some clutched their heads, blood trickling from their ears, while others collapsed entirely, their bodies limp and unmoving. The song was killing them.
Arthuro cursed, stepping away, his usual arrogance slipping as a flicker of something almost like fear flashed in his eyes. "Stop this madness!" he barked, his voice barely masking his unease. "You think some cursed merpeople song is going to save you? You're nothing but a—"
Before he could finish, the air around us exploded.
Arthuro stumbled back, his once-arrogant stance crumbling as he struggled to regain his footing. The others, too, wavered, some falling to their knees, their faces twisted in confusion and agony as the merpeople’s mournful song continued to reverberate through the air like a curse upon the wicked.
Ignoring them all, I knelt down, my hands trembling as I carefully lifted Liro’s lifeless body into my arms. His once-warm skin was now cold against mine, his face pale, his lips slightly parted as if he had been about to say something—something I would never hear. The weight of him, the fragility of his form, sent another wave of unbearable grief crashing into me, but I swallowed it down, forcing my legs to move.
Step by step, I carried him toward the shore, where the waves lapped gently against the sand, as if they, too, were mourning his loss.
"Mikhail, wait—where are you going?" Elliot’s voice cut through the air, desperate, frantic. His footsteps pounded behind me, and in a pathetic attempt, he reached out, as if he had the right to stop me.
I turned to him sharply, my eyes burning with uncontained fury.
"Your betrayal led him to his death, Elliot." My voice was as cold as the ocean breeze, sharp enough to slice through whatever feeble excuses he had prepared. "You claimed to love him, yet you were the one who put the dagger in his back. You can cry, you can beg, but nothing—nothing—will ever change the fact that you were the reason he died."
Elliot flinched as if I had physically struck him, his breath catching in his throat.
I took a step closer, lowering my voice into something far more dangerous. "Even in the afterlife, I will make sure you never have the chance to be with him again. Not in this life, not in the next."
Elliot’s face crumpled, his entire body trembling. But I didn’t care.
I turned away from him, walking into the waves, deeper and deeper, until the water embraced both Liro and me. The merpeople’s song swelled, the ocean shifting, swirling, as if waiting for me to surrender him.
I held Liro close one last time, pressing my forehead against his. "I’m so sorry," I whispered, my voice breaking for the first time. "I failed you."
The Queen of the Merpeople emerged from the depths, her presence both ethereal and commanding. Her long, shimmering hair flowed around her like liquid silver, and her eyes, deep and sorrowful, glowed with ancient wisdom. The ocean itself seemed to tremble in response to her agony, the waves rising and falling with the weight of her emotions.
She extended her slender hands, her fingers adorned with iridescent scales that shimmered under the moonlight. Without hesitation, I placed Liro’s lifeless body in her arms, my hands lingering for a moment as if holding onto him for just a second longer could change the cruel reality before me.
"You can rest now, my child," the Queen murmured, her voice thick with sorrow as she gently cradled Liro. Her touch was tender, her fingers brushing against his bloodstained skin as though trying to erase his suffering. "You will no longer be in pain."
A sharp breath escaped me, my body trembling under the weight of my guilt. "I failed him," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the crashing waves. "I swore to protect him, and yet, I let him die in my arms."
The Queen looked at me with something far beyond sympathy—something deeper, more knowing. "You have not failed him, Mikhail," she said, sadness lacing her words. "You regained your power in the most painful way possible, through grief, through loss. But this is only the beginning of what is to come, my king."
I clenched my fists, the pain in my chest unbearable. "What use is power if I couldn’t save him when he needed me the most?" My voice cracked, raw with emotion.
The Queen sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to Liro’s forehead before lifting her gaze back to me. "Because power alone does not change fate," she murmured. "But what you do with it now… will."
Her words sent a shiver through me, the weight of their meaning sinking into my bones. I had unlocked something inside me—a force I could barely comprehend. But at what cost? And was it already too late to change the fate that had been so cruelly written for us?
The Queen’s voice carried a weight of finality as she held Liro closer, her sorrow etched into every word. "I will take him home, where he truly belongs," she declared, her glowing eyes shifting toward Elliot, who had collapsed to his knees, his body wracked with uncontrollable sobs.
Elliot’s hands trembled as he reached out, but there was nothing left to grasp—nothing left to hold onto. "L-Liro..." he choked out, his voice broken, his breath coming in uneven gasps. "I never wanted this... I swear, I—"
The Queen’s gaze sharpened, cutting through his grief like a blade. "The man who swore to protect him," she whispered, "who vowed to love him above all else... was the very one who took his life with his own sword."
Elliot let out a strangled cry, his fingers clawing at his own chest as though trying to rip out the unbearable guilt that consumed him. "I didn’t mean to... I was forced... I—" His voice shattered, and his shoulders shook violently.
I clenched my jaw, my own fury barely restrained as I watched him crumble. "You still made the choice," I said coldly. "No matter the reason, no matter the excuse—you chose to betray him. And now, there is no redemption for you."
The Queen’s glowing eyes locked onto Elliot’s trembling form, her voice laced with both sorrow and wrath. "But you, Elliot… you will carry this weight for the rest of your days," she decreed, her words echoing like a curse woven into the very fabric of fate. "You will be reborn and meet him in every timeline, your souls destined to cross paths again and again…"
Elliot's breath hitched, his bloodshot eyes widening in horror. "N-No..." he whispered, shaking his head as if denying the Queen’s words could undo them.
"But each time," she continued, her voice unwavering, "you will always end up betraying him. You will always watch him die by your hand or your choices. And no matter how much you try to change it, the cycle will never break. That is your punishment, Elliot."
A strangled sob tore from Elliot’s throat as he crumbled to the ground, his entire body wracked with grief. "Please..." he begged, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, don’t do this... let me fix it… let me—"
"It is too late." The Queen’s tone was final. "You sealed your fate the moment you let your love twist into greed. Now, you will suffer as he did… over and over again."
The waters rose higher around her, glowing like liquid moonlight as Liro’s lifeless body was embraced by the sea. The Queen held him close, her expression unreadable, before she turned away, disappearing into the depths.
The eerie song of the merpeople faded into the distance, but its sorrowful melody remained, haunting the air.
And Elliot? He remained frozen in place, broken, lost, and condemned to a fate worse than death—one where love would always slip through his fingers, where regret would always come too late, and where, in every life, he would watch the one he loved die... knowing he was the reason why.
"You could have saved him if you had done something," Colton spat, his voice laced with disgust as he glared at Elliot. "But you didn’t. You stood there, you watched, and now look at what you've done. You will never be able to be with him, not in this life, not in any life from now on."
Elliot stumbled back, his face pale, his hands shaking. "I—I was just being manipulated! My loyalty, it—"
"No loyalty! No loyalty!" My voice thundered through the air, cutting through his pathetic excuse like a blade. "None! NOT EVEN A SHRED FROM YOU!" My chest heaved with every breath, my fury consuming me like wildfire. My fists clenched so tightly I could feel my nails digging into my skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. "How could you do this, Elliot?! How could you betray him?"
I couldn’t stand still. My body was restless, my emotions spiraling beyond my control, making my very presence volatile. I paced back and forth, trying—desperately trying—to contain the storm within me, but it was impossible.
The weight of Liro’s death, the sight of his lifeless body disappearing into the sea, the sorrowful song of the merpeople mourning his loss—it all crashed over me in an unbearable tidal wave of rage and grief. And Elliot, the one person who should have protected him, had been the one to lead him to his death.
"You swore to protect him," I hissed through gritted teeth, my voice trembling with restrained fury. "You swore you loved him, and yet your love meant nothing in the end. It was selfish. Twisted. Poisonous. And now, Liro is gone because of you."
The air around me crackled with energy, my power surging beyond my control, responding to the raw fury coursing through my veins. The ground trembled beneath my feet. I could feel my magic threatening to explode, to consume everything in its path, and for the first time in my life, I wanted it to. I wanted Elliot to feel even a fraction of the pain he had inflicted.
"You betrayed him, and now… now you will never find peace. Not in this life, not in any life," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "This curse is your own doing. You chose this."
Elliot fell to his knees, his face crumpling in despair, but I had no sympathy left for him. Not anymore. Liro was gone. And no amount of regret would ever change that.
"Mikhail! Arthuro is running!" Lucia shouted, her voice sharp with urgency. Without hesitation, she turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, her determination unwavering as she chased after Arthuro and his men.
I exhaled deeply, my chest still heavy with everything that had happened. My gaze shifted downward to Elliot, who was still on his knees, his face pale and broken. The weight of his actions had finally caught up to him, but it was too late for guilt to fix anything.
"Get up," I ordered coldly. "You're coming with us."
Elliot didn't move at first, his body trembling as he gripped the dirt beneath his fingers. For a second, I thought he might refuse, but then, slowly and hesitantly, he pushed himself to his feet. He looked lost—like a man condemned, knowing there was no redemption left for him.
I turned away, my eyes landing on Colton, who hadn't moved from his spot. His intense gaze bore into me, unreadable, searching for something beneath the storm still raging inside me.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer than I expected.
I let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking my head. "Of course not," I admitted. "I feel… betrayed."
The words felt heavier than I anticipated, and saying them out loud didn't make the pain lessen. If anything, it only made the truth settle deeper into my bones. I had lost too much today. Liro. My trust. A part of myself I would never get back.
Colton walked toward me with quiet determination, his eyes filled with something I couldn't quite name. Before I could react, he pulled me into a tight embrace, his warmth pressing against my trembling body.
"You don’t have to act strong, you dummy," he mumbled against my shoulder. "I know it hurts. You can cry."
I stiffened at his words. Cry? Me? I didn’t even remember the last time I allowed myself that kind of weakness. But as I stood there, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, something inside me cracked—just a little.
Slowly, I lifted my arm and wrapped it around him, gripping the fabric of his clothes as if grounding myself.
"It’s not time for this," I said after a moment, forcing a small smile despite everything weighing me down. "We need to catch that bastard."
Colton pulled back slightly, just enough to look me in the eye, his expression unreadable.
"And… I’m glad," I added, my voice quieter. "I’m glad you weren’t part of this cruel plan."
For once, I allowed myself to believe there was still someone I could trust.
Colton sighed, his grip on me loosening, but he didn’t pull away completely. “He’s still my father,” he murmured, his voice heavy with conflict. “His blood is running through my veins.”
I glanced at him, taking in the way his brows furrowed in frustration. I didn’t know what to say to that. He smelled like mint—strangely comforting despite the chaos around us.
"Hey! Stop that lovey-dovey nonsense!" Lucia’s sharp voice cut through the moment, making us both jolt slightly.
We turned to see her standing with her arms crossed, looking absolutely disgusted. Behind her, Ivan and Kael were dragging a beaten and bloodied Arthuro across the ground.
"You’re all disgusting!" she added dramatically. "We already caught him!"
I sighed, shaking my head as Colton released me completely. The moment was gone, and reality came crashing back in.
"Good," I said, stepping forward. "Then let’s end this."
Ivan and Kael dropped Arthuro in the dirt like a piece of discarded trash. He groaned, blood dripping from a deep gash on his forehead, his once-arrogant smirk nowhere to be seen. The fight had drained him. His body trembled as he tried to lift his head, but the weight of his defeat kept him down.
I took slow, deliberate steps toward him, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. The rage that had burned through me moments ago simmered beneath my skin, threatening to rise again.
"Get up," I ordered, my voice cold and commanding.
Arthuro let out a weak chuckle, spitting blood onto the ground. "What’s the point?" he rasped. "You’ve already won."
I crouched beside him, my eyes locking onto his. "Winning isn’t the point," I said. "Justice is."
Behind me, I heard Colton shift uneasily, but he didn’t stop me. No one did. Not Ivan, not Kael, and certainly not her. She had made her opinion clear, but she wasn’t the one who had suffered.
Arthuro had taken everything from us—our pride, our people, our peace. And now, we were here to take it back.
The air was thick with the scent of sweat and blood, and for a long moment, no one spoke. The only sound was Arthuro’s ragged breathing and the distant hum of the city beyond these ruins.
Then, he laughed again, weaker this time. "You think killing me changes anything?" His swollen eye barely opened as he looked up at me. "You’re just like me."
I clenched my jaw.
"No," I whispered. "I’m nothing like you."
And with that, I stood, raising my hand.
"End it," I commanded.
Kael stepped forward without hesitation, blade in hand. The final act of this war had begun.
Would mercy find its way into my heart at the last moment? Or would vengeance finally be served?
The decision was mine to make.
And I had never felt more certain of anything in my life.
The tension in the air thickened as Arthuro's taunts echoed through the ruins. His bloodied face twisted into a grin, teeth stained crimson as he spat more venomous words.
"You think your power can stop me?" he sneered, voice hoarse but laced with arrogance. "I already controlled you once! And you never escaped me!"
I felt the darkness stirring inside me, coiling like a living thing, eager to take over. The edges of my vision blurred as shadows crawled at the corners of my mind. But I clenched my fists, grounding myself. I refused to let him win.
"You were wrong," I growled, my voice deeper, heavier—almost unrecognizable.
Arthuro chuckled, eyes gleaming despite his broken state. "Then kill me now," he dared. "Show them how the heir of the Syndril Kingdom loses his mind because of his failures! You’re losing yourself now, Heir. What will you do?"
A sharp gasp came from behind me, but I couldn't turn to see who it was. My focus was locked on Arthuro as he gestured toward Kael.
"Look at him! His eyes are turning pitch black!" Arthuro shouted with wicked delight. "The darkness is consuming him already!"
Kael hesitated, his grip tightening around his sword. Ivan shifted uncomfortably, and even she, who had looked so disgusted before, took an uncertain step back.
I didn’t need to see my reflection to know he was right. I could feel it. The abyss inside me, the power I had been suppressing for so long, was rising—hungry, desperate. My heartbeat pounded like war drums in my chest.
Arthuro had no idea what he was playing with.
I exhaled slowly, fighting to keep control. "You don't get to decide what happens next," I said, my voice calm but laced with an edge of something dangerous. "Not anymore."
Arthuro’s grin faltered just slightly, a flicker of uncertainty passing through his gaze.
The smugness in Arthuro’s broken expression twisted into something sharper, something cruel. His bloodied lips curled into a smirk as his darkened eyes glared up at me, his voice dripping with mockery.
"You think power alone is enough?" he sneered. "You can’t reclaim your throne without the symbol of the monarchy! Even if you pass all the trials, even if you prove yourself worthy, the Elders of Syndril will never accept a ruler who does not bear the crown!"
I felt a chill creep down my spine at his words, my mind instantly calculating the implications. I frowned, my fingers twitching slightly as I took a step closer. "What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice low and demanding.
Kael, who had been silent for a moment, exhaled sharply as if steadying himself. "The Elders have the crown," he said, his tone calmer than the storm brewing behind his golden eyes. "Don’t worry, we’ll get it back."
But Arthuro only laughed, the sound hoarse and tainted with malice. He threw his head back, shaking his head in disbelief. "The Elders?" he mocked, his grin widening. "Which Elder? The one who sold his own brothers to the highest bidder? Or perhaps the other? The one who bent his knee, not for honor, not for loyalty, but for a handful of gold?" His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he leaned forward despite his battered body. "You fools. One of your precious Elders handed me the crown, and in return, I gave him something far more valuable—the blood of his own brethren. The fragments of his fellow Elders, shattered and scattered, in exchange for a single cent of gold."
A sharp intake of breath.
A heartbeat of silence.
And then—
"What?!" Kael’s voice cracked with unrestrained fury, his body visibly trembling. His eyes, already darkened with rage, widened with disbelief, and I saw it—the shift. The barely contained power surging beneath his skin, the iridescent scales that started to surface along the side of his face, shimmering under the dim light. His breathing grew heavy, the sound of it almost a growl. "The Elders did what?!"
I had seen Kael furious before. I had seen him draw his sword with the cold, calculating rage of a warrior. But this—this was different. This was something primal, something dangerous.
I turned back to Arthuro, who was now grinning despite his wounds, despite his impending fate. He had nothing left to lose, and that made him even more reckless.
"You didn’t know, did you?" he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You thought they were loyal to you? That they would fight for you? Foolish, pathetic prince. Your throne was lost long before you even had the chance to claim it."
The air around us grew heavier, thick with tension, thick with the weight of betrayal.
And I knew, in that moment, that this war was far from over.
It was only just beginning.
Ivan cursed under his breath, shaking his hands after pulling away from Kael, who stood rigid, his body radiating unbearable heat. The air around him shimmered, distorting like a mirage, and I could see the golden scales creeping further up his neck, glinting under the dim light. His breathing was uneven, each exhale coming out like a low growl, his entire body threatening to combust at any moment.
"Kael, you’re burning up! Stay calm!" Ivan tried again, reaching out, but the moment his fingers brushed against Kael’s arm, he winced and yanked his hand back. "Ouch! You’re literally burning hot!" He hissed, shaking out his fingers as if that would rid them of the searing pain.
Colton, who had remained composed despite the chaos, suddenly moved to my side, gripping my arm firmly, his voice low but urgent. "Mikhail, we need to calm down. We can’t do anything in this state, and we definitely can’t let Kael lose control here." His piercing gaze flickered toward Kael, who was barely holding himself together, and then toward Arthuro, who still lay in the dirt, watching us with that damned smirk on his face, his wounds seemingly forgotten in the face of the chaos he had sown.
I forced myself to breathe, to steady my mind despite the whirlwind of emotions threatening to pull me under. Then, without hesitation, I spoke, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
"The Queen," I said, locking eyes with Kael. "I can communicate with her, right?"
Kael stiffened at my words, his expression flickering between pain and something unreadable. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he exhaled a long, shaky breath, forcing himself to regain control. His fists clenched at his sides before he finally nodded.
"Yes," he murmured, his voice strained. "Even though her soul is no longer here, her memory—her traces—they still linger. If you reach out, if you’re strong enough, you can speak to her."
Lucia, who had been silent until now, took a hesitant step forward, her brows furrowed in disbelief. "Is that even possible?" she asked, glancing between us. "I mean… she’s dead. Her body was laid to rest in the Monarchy Tomb. Shouldn’t her spirit have passed on like all the others?"
Kael let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head, his golden eyes dark with something far more ancient than rage. "No one knows where the souls of the former rulers go," he said, his voice quieter this time, more solemn. "There’s a reason the throne remains untouched when a ruler dies. A reason why no one dares to claim it immediately. They say…" He hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before he met my eyes again. "They say the former rulers never truly leave this earth. That their souls remain permanently bound to the throne—to the kingdom itself."
A heavy silence followed his words.
I could feel the weight of it pressing down on all of us.
If that were true, then the Queen—the one person who had guided me, who had once been the symbol of everything we had lost—was still here, watching over us, waiting.
And if she was still here…
Then maybe, just maybe…
She had the answers we so desperately needed.
I inhaled deeply, my fingers curling into fists before I turned to Kael, my resolve hardening. "Then let’s not waste any more time," I said firmly. "We’re going to speak to her."
Kael stared at me for a long moment before nodding. "Then we have to go to the throne room."
And with that, our next path was decided.
A path that would lead us straight into the heart of the kingdom’s forgotten past.
And to the Queen herself.
Kael opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, his golden eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. For a moment, it looked as though he wanted to stop me, to tell me there was another way, but instead, he exhaled sharply and shook his head.
"If you really want to talk to her, you have to—" He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze shifting as he took in my appearance. His expression darkened, and his jaw clenched. "You’re in worse condition than I thought. Your emotions are unstable, your energy is erratic, and your body is already exhausted. You can talk to her, Mikhail, but… the process of bringing you back isn’t easy." His voice lowered, the weight of his warning settling heavily between us. "You could die in the process. Or worse—you could lose yourself entirely."
I barely hesitated. "I don’t care," I said firmly, my voice unwavering. "I need to talk to her immediately."
The moment the words left my mouth, Colton clicked his tongue in irritation, his patience visibly thinning. His usual composed demeanor cracked as he stepped forward, his glare sharp enough to cut through steel. "Stop being reckless and think wisely for once, Mikhail!" he snapped, his voice laced with frustration. "Are you seriously thinking about meeting your mother in this state? Have you even stopped to listen to yourself? Your pheromones are unstable, your mind is clouded with nothing but negative thoughts, and you’re barely holding yourself together! You’re a mess!"
I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms, but the pain wasn’t enough to ground me. My chest rose and fell rapidly as anger, grief, and frustration swirled inside me, twisting into something unbearable.
"And how exactly am I supposed to calm down, Colton?!" My voice cracked as I yelled, my breathing ragged, my vision blurring. "How do you expect me to just breathe when I watched one of my own friends die in front of me?! When I watched the light in their eyes fade while I stood helpless?!"
Colton flinched, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.
"You don’t understand what it’s like to stand in my place, to try and compose yourself when everything around you is falling apart! You don’t understand how much I’ve been trying to be rational, to be the leader everyone expects me to be, to understand why Elliot would betray us like this!" My voice broke on his name, and I felt the first tear slip down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away, but it was useless—the dam had already broken.
The world around me tilted, my head spinning violently, but I forced myself to stay upright.
I turned sharply, pointing a trembling finger at the old man before me—the man who had orchestrated so much suffering, the one still smirking despite everything. "And how do you expect me to stay calm when that bastard is still breathing?!" My entire body shook as raw fury coursed through me. "How do you expect me to stand here and not rip him apart with my own hands?!"
Silence.
For a moment, no one spoke. No one moved.
Then, my voice cracked again, this time softer, filled with nothing but heartbreak.
"You don’t know what I felt when the Queen of the Merpeople took Liro away from me," I whispered, my throat tightening. My vision blurred further, tears now falling freely. "You don’t know what it was like to feel his hand slip from mine, to know that no matter how much I screamed, no matter how much I begged, he was never coming back. I lost my friend, Colton. And it fucking hurts."
I wrapped my arms around myself, my shoulders trembling as sobs wracked my body.
I was a mess.
But I had been holding it in for too long.
And now, it was all pouring out.
I turned my head, my vision still blurred from the tears, and my gaze landed on Elliot. He was crying—actually crying—his entire body trembling as he clutched his chest like he was the one who had lost something precious. But he hadn't lost anything. He was the reason we were here. The reason Liro was gone. The reason I was standing in the wreckage of everything we had fought for, my hands empty, my heart shattered into unrecognizable pieces.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, but it didn’t stop the venom from spilling from my lips. My voice was raw, laced with pain and anger so deep it burned my throat as I spoke.
"Why did you do this, Elliot?" My voice cracked, but I didn't care. The weight of my grief pressed down on me like an avalanche, suffocating, unbearable. "You could have just killed me if that’s what you wanted. If I was the problem, if I was in your way, then why not end me? Why drag Liro into this? Why not push him out of this mess so he could’ve lived a longer life—a better life?!"
Elliot stumbled backward, his legs giving out beneath him as he dropped to his knees, his sobs wracking his entire body. He tried to speak, but his words were choked and broken. "I—I’m sorry..." His hands clawed at the ground, his fingers digging into the dirt as if he could bury himself within it. "I was blind—I was blind to everything—I just..." He gasped, his shoulders shaking violently. "I was blinded by my obsession for him."
I laughed. A sharp, bitter sound that tasted like poison on my tongue. "Obsession?" My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I glared down at him, my rage bubbling to the surface, uncontrollable, unstoppable. "Elliot, you didn't even want Liro in the first place!" My voice rose with every word, the weight of my fury bearing down on him. "You pushed him away, remember? You threw him off the ship like he was nothing! You rejected his love, abandoned him when all he ever wanted was to stand beside you! And now, suddenly—suddenly you’re obsessed with him? What changed, Elliot? What the hell changed?!"
Elliot flinched as if I had struck him, his entire body curling inward like he was trying to make himself smaller. His breathing was uneven, ragged, his face contorted in agony. But I wasn’t done.
"You don’t get to cry," I snarled, stepping closer, my chest heaving. "You don’t get to sit there and act like you’re the victim in all of this. Do you even realize what you’ve done? What your obsession has cost us?" My voice cracked again, but this time, it wasn’t from weakness—it was from the sheer force of my rage. "Liro is dead! He’s gone, and there’s no taking that back! And for what? Because you suddenly decided you couldn’t live without him? Now, when it’s too late?!"
Elliot let out a choked sob, his head bowing lower, but I couldn't stop the storm of words pouring from my mouth.
"You had a chance, Elliot!" My hands trembled as I pointed at him, my body vibrating with anger. "You had a chance to love him, to cherish him, to choose him! And you threw it away like it meant nothing! And now, when the blood is already on your hands, you suddenly want to cry over him? You suddenly realize he was worth something?!" My breath hitched, my chest tightening to the point of pain. "Well, too bad! Because now—now, there’s nothing left to save."
Silence fell between us, heavy and suffocating.
Elliot didn’t lift his head. He didn’t speak. He only sobbed, his shoulders shaking, his entire form weighed down by the unbearable truth of his own choices.
I swallowed hard, my own tears still slipping down my face, hot and unrelenting. My body was exhausted, my heart in ruins, but I couldn't bring myself to feel even an ounce of sympathy for him.
Not when it was his fault.
Not when I would never hear Liro’s voice again.
Not when I was the one left behind, drowning in the unbearable agony of his loss.
I took a shaky breath, my chest still tight with the weight of my emotions, but I forced myself to push past it. There was no time to grieve, no time to drown in sorrow—I had something far more important to do. My hands clenched at my sides as I turned to Kael, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.
"Let me talk to my mother. Now."
Kael hesitated, his golden eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Mikhail—"
"I don’t want another word right now, Colton." My voice was sharp, unyielding. I didn't have the patience for his protests, not when my decision was already made. I turned my gaze to him, cold and unwavering. "Do your job. Don’t let that bastard escape. I’ll be back."
Colton frowned, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t argue. He knew better than anyone that once my mind was set, there was no changing it.
I exhaled slowly, wiping my remaining tears away in a slow, deliberate motion—cold, detached, as if they had never been there in the first place. Grief was a weakness I couldn't afford right now.
I turned my attention back to the man before me, my lips curling into a smirk that carried no warmth.
Arthuro.
Pathetic. Beaten. And yet, despite it all, he still had that glint in his eye—the kind of arrogance that made my blood boil.
Summoning the voice of the sea, I began to chant, my words flowing like a melody carried by the ocean breeze. The air around us shifted, the temperature dropping as the ancient magic of the sea awakened. The waves outside echoed my song, their rhythm steady, calling, warning.
A strange energy filled the space, thick and suffocating, pressing down on everything like an unseen force. Even the ground beneath us seemed to hum with the power I had unleashed.
I bent down, lowering myself to his level, our faces mere inches apart. My smirk deepened as I whispered, my voice smooth, laced with quiet menace.
"If you escape, the sea will hunt you down. The tides will drag you under, and you will never surface again." I tilted my head slightly, watching as his expression twitched. "And if you stay…" My smirk widened. "The mermaids will start singing a very, very sweet song for you."
Arthuro stiffened.
I could see the flicker of fear in his eyes, barely masked beneath his defiance. He knew exactly what that meant. He had seen what happened to those who heard the mermaids’ song—how their bodies stilled, how their eyes glazed over, how they willingly walked into the ocean, never to return.
"I don’t need your—"
I clicked my tongue and cut him off with a sharp, amused laugh. "I didn’t offer any help, dumbass." My smirk faded into something far more dangerous. "It’s a warning."
And then, without another word, I drove my foot into his ribs, sending him sprawling onto the ground.
He coughed, gasping for breath, but I had already turned away.
I had more important things to deal with.
The dead were waiting. And I was ready to listen.
As Kael’s voice wove through the incantation, the very air around us seemed to shift—thickening, pulsating with an ancient energy that pressed against my skin like unseen hands. The flickering flame at the center of the circle flared to life, burning an unnatural shade of blue, casting eerie shadows that danced along the cavern walls.
I kept my gaze locked on my bleeding wrist, watching as my blood dripped onto the symbols carved into the ground. The moment the first drop met the circle, a ripple of energy pulsed outward, sending a shiver through my entire body.
Kael’s chant grew stronger, his voice steady and commanding.
A flickering flame, a whispered sigh,
A spark that dances, then takes flight.
A tapestry of memories, woven high,
A yearning for a brighter light.
The flame twisted, stretching unnaturally, as if breathing in his words. The energy in the room grew heavier, pressing against my lungs, my mind, my very soul.
It whispers secrets, soft and low,
Of love and loss, and dreams untold.
It bears the weight of every blow,
A story etched in hearts of gold.
The air around us cracked. Something shifted.
The symbols on the ground pulsed, glowing faintly with an ethereal silver light, and a deep hum resonated through the cavern. My vision blurred for a moment, my body swaying as an unnatural force pulled at me.
And then—
The flame exploded.
A blinding flash of silver and blue engulfed the space, and suddenly, I wasn’t there anymore.
The cavern, Kael, the ritual—everything faded.
I found myself standing in a vast expanse of shimmering mist, an endless horizon stretching in all directions. It was neither cold nor warm, neither dark nor light. It simply was.
And then, a voice—soft, familiar, aching with the weight of time—whispered through the mist.
"Mikhail…"
My breath caught in my throat.
I turned slowly.
And there, standing amidst the swirling silver mist, was her.
My mother.
My mother’s expression darkened, the mist swirling heavier around her as if reacting to the weight of my words. She sighed deeply, her ethereal form flickering slightly before solidifying once more.
“My great-grandfathers were the ones entrusted with protecting the crown,” she murmured, her voice laced with regret. “But as for what happened to it… I do not know.” She paused, tilting her head as she regarded me with quiet curiosity. “But tell me, Mikhail—how did you manage to reach this place?”
I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “Long story.” My voice was tight, my patience nearly nonexistent. “I have too many questions and not enough time.” My fists clenched at my sides. “What happens if I don’t reclaim the throne? What if the crown is never returned? What will become of the kingdom?”
Her eyes softened, but there was an undeniable sadness in them. “The balance will crumble,” she said simply. “The monarchy is bound by the crown—not just as a symbol of power, but as the very core of Syndril’s existence. Without it, the kingdom will eventually fall into ruin.”
A bitter scoff escaped me. “And what the hell are the elders doing while all of this is happening?” My voice rose with anger. “One of them sold his own brother for gold! The crown itself was handed over in exchange for mere coins! What kind of rulers do that? How could they betray our people so easily?”
She was silent for a long moment, her gaze heavy with something unreadable. Then, she sighed. “Power corrupts, Mikhail. You must have learned that by now.”
I gritted my teeth. “That doesn’t make it any less infuriating.”
She offered me a sad smile. “No, it doesn’t.”
The mist around us thickened, the world trembling slightly. Time was slipping away—I could feel it.
I needed answers. And fast.
Panic flashed across my mother’s face as she reached for me, but her hands passed straight through me like mist. Her eyes widened in alarm, her voice breaking with urgency.
“W-What’s happening?” she cried, trying again to grasp my fading form, only to fail. Her fingers slipped through the air where my arm had been just moments ago. The mist swirled violently around us, the silver glow shifting into something darker, something unnatural.
I frowned, glancing down at my hands. My fingers, my arms—my entire body was dissolving, fading like smoke caught in a storm. But something was wrong. This wasn’t just me returning to the physical world. No, this was different.
A thick, inky-black aura wrapped itself around me, twisting, curling, feeding. It pulsed like a living entity, its energy seeping into my skin, my veins, my very soul.
"I’m turning—" I started, my voice barely above a whisper.
But my mother gasped, her expression shifting from fear to sheer horror as she took a step back.
"No! You—you’re covered in black light!" Her voice trembled, raw with dread. "Mikhail! What the hell is happening to you?!" She lunged forward again, desperation lacing every movement, but it was useless. I was slipping away.
And yet… I wasn’t afraid.
I looked at my fading hands again, but this time, I didn’t see weakness. I didn’t see loss.
I saw power.
A deep, unsettling hunger clawed at my chest, growing stronger with each second.
"I already regained my power, Mom," I said, my voice steady, but there was something new in it—something darker, something more. I flexed my fingers, watching the black energy pulse and twist around them. “It feels good. So good.” I laughed softly, a breathy, almost euphoric sound. “And the power… It’s too much…” I lifted my gaze to meet hers, my lips curling into a slow, almost wicked smile. “And I want more.”
"No! No!" Her voice cracked, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You’re losing yourself! Get a grip, Mikhail! This isn’t you!”
But was she sure?
Because right now, I had never felt more alive.
A sharp, gut-wrenching force yanked me back, tearing me away from the misty realm and slamming me into the cold, unforgiving weight of reality. My breath hitched, ragged and uneven, as I jolted awake, my entire body trembling with the aftershock. My vision blurred momentarily before sharpening, taking in the room around me—the faces twisted in shock, the fear radiating from their wide eyes.
A thick silence followed, so heavy it felt suffocating.
And then—
A collective gasp.
A shuffle of footsteps.
People stepping back.
Even Kael, who had been seated directly in front of me, scrambled to his feet, his face paling as if he were staring at a nightmare made flesh. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, but there was no mistaking the tremble in them.
I furrowed my brows, sitting up straighter. “What?” My voice was low, sharper than I intended.
Colton took another step back, his eyes darting between me and the still-glowing ritual circle. “Y-You’re not Mikhail,” he breathed, his voice laced with disbelief, his usually sharp demeanor cracking under the weight of what he was seeing.
I sighed deeply, stretching my fingers and glancing down at my hands. My nails were longer now, sharp like claws, and my skin—it almost shimmered with a dark energy that pulsed just beneath the surface. I rolled my shoulders, and for the first time in what felt like forever, my body felt weightless, unburdened.
Power hummed beneath my skin, intoxicating, exhilarating—like I had been drowning for years and had only now taken my first breath.
And it felt good.
Lucia’s voice cut through the tense air, trembling yet firm. “Y-Your eyes…” She reached for her weapon, her stance shifting into one of defense, her fingers tightening around the hilt.
I slowly turned my gaze to her, feeling a smirk tug at the corner of my lips. “What about them?”
“They’re… pitch black.”
I stilled for a moment, then exhaled, amused. “Huh.” I ran my tongue over my teeth, considering the revelation. “Interesting.”
Lucia didn’t seem to find it interesting at all. If anything, her grip on her weapon tightened, her entire body coiled like a spring ready to snap.
I frowned, my amusement dimming, and let my gaze sweep over the rest of them—the people I had fought beside, bled for, trusted. But what I saw now wasn’t camaraderie.
It was fear.
I scoffed, shaking my head. “So that’s how it is, huh?” My voice was colder now, devoid of the warmth it once held. My gaze locked onto Lucia, narrowing. “You’re pointing a weapon at me now? After everything?”
Lucia hesitated but didn’t lower her blade.
I let out a humorless laugh, my fingers twitching as the power within me pulsed stronger. “You’re all the same,” I muttered, bitterness creeping into my tone. “Always so quick to turn your backs the moment something doesn’t fit your perfect little expectations.” My lips curled, my voice dropping lower. “Did you even hesitate before deciding I was a threat?”
Kael swallowed thickly, his voice hesitant. “Mikhail… this—this isn’t you.”
I tilted my head, considering his words. And for a fleeting second, something inside me wavered.
But then I remembered.
Elliot’s betrayal.
Liro’s death.
The elders selling out their own people for gold.
The weight of loss, of suffering, of endless sacrifice—only for it all to mean nothing.
A slow, icy rage unfurled within me, deeper than anything I had ever known.
I met Kael’s gaze, and this time, my voice was steady, emotionless.
“No,” I said simply. “This is exactly who I was meant to be.”
Ivan tightened his grip on his weapon, his eyes scanning me with a mixture of concern and wary determination. His breath came out in a slow, measured sigh, but there was an unmistakable tension in his stance, like he was preparing for the worst.
"The power he's radiating... it's too much," Ivan murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze flickered toward Kael and Lucia, his expression grim. "He can't handle it all alone."
Lucia exhaled sharply, her resolve hardening as she took a firm step forward. "We need to take him away." She gritted her teeth, her weapon raised just slightly, not in outright attack, but in preparation. "He's not himself!"
Her words grated against me, digging into my skin like needles.
Not myself?
I let out a bitter chuckle, rolling my shoulders as the black energy around me pulsed stronger, feeding off the chaos. “You keep saying that,” I muttered, flexing my fingers, watching the dark tendrils of power coil and twist around them. “Like you know me.” I lifted my gaze, my blackened eyes locking onto hers. “Like you ever did.”
Lucia flinched slightly, but she held her ground. “Mikhail, listen to me—this power isn’t you. It’s warping you, poisoning your thoughts.”
“Poisoning me?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “You think this is poison?” I lifted my arms slightly, letting the raw energy crackle through the air like lightning. “This is clarity. This is what I should have been all along. Unrestrained. Unburdened.”
Ivan took a cautious step forward. “Mikhail, you don’t have to do this.” His voice was calm but edged with urgency. “Let us help you.”
I let out a sharp breath through my nose, shaking my head. “Help me?” I echoed, my tone turning sharp, mocking. “Where was this help when I was betrayed? When Liro was taken from me?” My gaze darkened further, my jaw clenching as the memories crashed over me like waves. “Where was this help when the elders sold us out for a pile of gold?”
Kael flinched, looking away, guilt written across his face.
“Exactly.” I smirked coldly, lowering my hands but keeping my stance firm. “You can’t save me. You never could.”
A tense silence filled the space, thick and suffocating.
And then—
Lucia exhaled sharply, steeling herself. “Then we’ll stop you.”
She moved first.
I smirked.
“Try.”
With lightning speed, I lunged forward, my claws slicing clean through Lucia’s stomach before she could even react. A sharp gasp tore from her lips, her eyes going wide in shock and agony as she stumbled back, her hands flying to her abdomen. Blood seeped through her fingers, staining them crimson.
“Lucia!”
Their panicked voices rang through the air, blending together in a chaotic chorus of horror and disbelief. Ivan surged forward as if to catch her, but she barely managed to stay on her feet, her breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps.
I smirked, tilting my head as I lifted my hand to my lips. The dark energy crackling around me hummed with exhilaration as I dragged my tongue along my bloodstained fingers, tasting the metallic warmth.
“Hmm… interesting,” I murmured, savoring the sensation. My eyes flickered toward Lucia, who was still standing, trembling, glaring at me with unyielding defiance despite her wound. I chuckled, amused by her persistence. “I expected you to drop faster than that. Impressive.”
A deep, sinister laugh echoed from the shadows, cutting through the tension like a blade.
I turned my head slightly, my smirk deepening as I spotted him.
Arthuro.
He leaned against the crumbling stone wall, his arms are tied over his back, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched the scene unfold.
“This—” He gestured toward me with a slow, deliberate wave of his hand. “—this is exactly what I’ve been telling you all along.” His smile widened as he straightened, stepping closer. “A Syndril bloodline can be both dangerous and unstoppable when unchecked.”
The others stiffened at his words, their expressions torn between fury and dread.
Arthuro chuckled, shaking his head as he continued. “And the heir himself?” He tsked, feigning disappointment. “If he can’t control his power—” He smirked, his gaze locking onto mine with something eerily close to admiration. “—then his power will control him.”
The air crackled with tension, a dangerous energy thrumming between us.
“And if you let it consume you, Mikhail…” Arthuro’s voice dipped lower, a wicked edge creeping into it. “You will never be the same again.”
I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders as the dark energy pulsed stronger within me.
Never be the same again?
I smiled.
Good.
Ivan's hands were stained with blood as he pressed against Lucia's wound, his jaw clenched tight as he tried to stop the bleeding. "What should we do?" His voice was tense, edged with desperation as he looked at the others for answers.
Colton stood frozen for a moment, staring at me, his eyes heavy with something I couldn’t quite place—regret? Pity? It didn’t matter. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
"We need backup," Kael said suddenly, his voice firm. "We can't stop Mikhail without risking our lives." He lifted his hand to his mouth, biting his forefinger hard enough to draw blood, his eyes locked onto mine.
I narrowed my pitch-black gaze. "Backup?" I repeated, my voice dripping with venom. My fists clenched at my sides as the air around me crackled with dark energy. "Calling the other elders?" I took a step forward, my presence suffocating. "The vampires? The werewolves? The griffins?" My voice rose, filled with fury and something darker, more primal. "The Queen of the Centaurs? The Queen of the Merpeople?"
A roar ripped from my throat, shaking the very ground beneath us.
Kael only smirked.
"Yes."
The word hung in the air like a death sentence.
And then, suddenly, a force—ancient, raw, immense—shook the atmosphere. The sky above darkened as if the very heavens themselves were answering his call. A gust of wind howled through the ruins, carrying whispers of something far beyond mortal comprehension.
I should have felt threatened.
Instead, I smirked.
A deep, guttural laugh rumbled from my chest, dark and unapologetic. "Then call them," I purred, my voice laced with cruel amusement. My eyes gleamed with uncontained hunger as I lifted my arms, embracing the storm of energy swirling around me.
"You still can't stop me." My smirk widened into something almost manic. "Not before I burn this world to the ground."
"Go ahead, restrain me," I said, a twisted smile on my lips as I extended my hands in mock surrender. The challenge in my tone left no room for negotiation.
Kael's eyes narrowed as he invoked his powers. In a fluid, almost effortless motion, he conjured ethereal bonds that snaked around my wrists, coiling tighter with each passing second. My hands were securely bound, the magic pulsing against my skin, constraining the wild energy that raged within me.
I let out a slow, almost resigned sigh as I sank onto the cold, hard ground. My gaze never wavered from the dark horizon, where the promised forces of the realm—vampires, werewolves, griffins, and the noble queens of the Centaurs and Merpeople—would soon descend.
The silence that followed was heavy, pregnant with expectation. I sat there quietly, every muscle tense, every fiber of my being crackling with barely contained power, waiting for those ancient, formidable creatures to answer Kael’s call.
A challenge hung in the air, a promise of chaos and retribution. And even in my restraints, I felt a perverse thrill—an addictive rush—knowing that soon, the reckoning of this shattered world would begin.
The first to arrive was the vampire.
Dravo.
He materialized out of the darkness, stepping forward with his usual arrogant grace—and once again, completely naked. His pale skin shimmered under the faint moonlight, his muscular frame unmarred by scars or time, an eternal predator. His crimson eyes burned into mine with unmasked fury, his lips curled into a snarl.
Before I could speak, he moved.
Fast.
In a blink, his cold fingers wrapped around my throat, his grip tightening with a strength that could have easily crushed lesser beings. I gasped, feeling the pressure, but instead of struggling, I let out a low, amused chuckle. My lips twisted into a smirk as I locked eyes with him, unfazed.
“Feisty,” I purred, tilting my head slightly despite his grasp. “But you’re too weak to break me.” I smiled—sweetly, mockingly, as if his attempt at intimidation was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
His grip tensed for a split second before Kael let out an exasperated sigh.
“Dravo, enough.”
Dravo clicked his tongue in irritation but obeyed, shoving me back with a growl. I stumbled only slightly before regaining my composure, rolling my shoulders as if brushing off dust.
His glare didn’t waver. “What the hell happened to him?” he demanded, his voice dripping with disbelief and something close to disgust. “His energy—it’s wrong.”
I let out a sharp laugh, stretching my restrained hands in front of me, my fingers twitching as if testing the limits of my bonds. “Wrong?” I echoed, amusement lacing my tone. “No, Dravo. It’s finally right.” I tilted my head, my smirk deepening. “You’re just too pathetic to understand true power when it’s standing right in front of you.”
Dravo’s jaw tensed, and for a moment, I could see the battle in his eyes—the war between his ego and the undeniable truth that I was no longer someone he could easily dominate.
I chuckled again, the sound low and taunting.
“Come on, vampire.” I leaned forward slightly, my bound wrists lowering but my gaze never breaking his. “You want to put me in my place? Try harder.”
"You little—" Dravo’s snarl was cut off as Kael let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as though dealing with a particularly frustrating child.
"Wear some clothes first," Kael muttered, his tone carrying the weight of someone who had long since given up questioning Dravo’s lack of decency. "I swear, every time we summon you, you show up naked like some dramatic theater act."
Dravo tsked but stepped away, retrieving his garments with casual indifference. As he pulled on a dark tunic and fastened his belt, his sharp gaze flickered across the room, landing on Lucia. She was still kneeling on the ground, her breathing uneven, her hands trembling as she pressed against her wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding.
Dravo’s expression darkened. "Did you just hurt your own friend?" His voice was quiet, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it, like the calm before a storm.
I didn’t hesitate.
"Yeah, I did," I said smoothly, my voice devoid of remorse, my smirk widening as I tilted my head ever so slightly. "And?"
Dravo’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he took a step closer. His fingers twitched, as if resisting the urge to reach for a weapon, but I could see the flicker of hesitation in his movements. He was gauging me, trying to decide whether the person standing before him was still the same Mikhail he once knew.
I chuckled lowly, shifting my bound wrists slightly just to feel the tension of the restraints. "What? You suddenly care about Lucia now?" I taunted, my tone laced with amusement. "Last I checked, vampires don’t usually concern themselves with ‘petty human affairs.’"
Dravo’s eyes flashed crimson.
"You’re not Mikhail anymore," he muttered, almost as if he were trying to convince himself.
I grinned, leaning forward slightly despite my restraints. "No," I whispered, my voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "I’m something better."
Dravo’s nose wrinkled slightly, his crimson gaze narrowing as he took a slow breath. "I smell betrayal," he muttered, his voice laced with irritation. His eyes flickered toward Elliot, who was crouched beside Lucia, desperately pressing fabric against her wound in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding.
The vampire let out a slow, almost amused exhale. "Shit," he murmured, tilting his head as if studying a particularly grotesque piece of art. "It’s worse than I expected."
Kael, still gripping his forearm where he’d drawn blood for the summoning, shot Dravo an impatient glance. "Where are they?" he demanded.
As if answering his call, the air beside him shimmered. A ripple formed, delicate and fluid, before solidifying into a portal of swirling, translucent blue. The surface of it pulsed like living water, and then—
A leg emerged.
Long. Smooth. Drenched in the delicate shimmer of ocean pearls.
A moment later, the rest of her followed, stepping onto solid ground with effortless grace.
The Queen of the Merpeople.
Her presence alone sent an unsettling silence through the air, a hush of reverence and tension alike.
Dravo, despite his usual arrogance, was the first to bow. "Your Highness," he greeted smoothly, his tone laced with careful respect.
But the Queen didn’t even glance at him.
Her piercing gaze landed on me immediately.
And she sighed. "A fruit of betrayal."
Her voice was neither cruel nor kind, but there was something deeply disappointed about the way she said it. As if looking at a once-promising prince who had now become something unrecognizable.
I smirked, unfazed. "A fruit of betrayal?" I repeated, letting out a low, amused chuckle. "That sounds poetic. I rather like it."
Her eyes—like endless depths of the ocean—remained unreadable as she stepped closer, her presence exuding ancient power. "You reek of greed, Mikhail," she observed, tilting her head slightly. "It clings to you like a second skin. Do you even recognize yourself anymore?"
I tilted my own head in response, mimicking her motion mockingly. "Do you recognize yourself, Your Highness?" I countered smoothly. "Still pretending to be wise and all-knowing while your kingdom rots beneath the waves?"
A flicker of something flashed in her gaze—anger, perhaps—but she remained composed.
"You are losing yourself," she said, softer now, but no less firm. "The more power you take, the less of you remains. At this rate, there will be nothing left but a shell of hunger."
I chuckled again, rolling my shoulders as if testing my restraints. "Good," I murmured. My smirk widened, my voice dripping with ruthless hunger. "Because hunger is the only thing that truly matters."*
The Queen’s sharp gaze never left me, but her voice remained steady as she addressed Kael.
"Kael," she said, her tone holding an authority that demanded immediate answers. "What happened?"
Kael exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples as if trying to formulate a response that wouldn’t make the situation sound as dire as it truly was. "Let’s wait for the—"
His words were abruptly cut off.
A deafening sound cracked through the sky, a loud, thunderous screech that sent an unnatural shiver down the spines of those gathered. The atmosphere itself seemed to tremble in response, a heavy pressure pressing against our chests as the air shifted.
And then—
A shadow passed overhead.
Wings. Massive wings, spanning farther than any mere bird or dragon could hope to match. The wind roared as they flapped, sending a powerful gust across the battlefield, rustling cloaks and forcing some to shield their faces from the sheer force of it.
From the distance, the silhouette of the creature became clearer—its majestic golden-brown feathers gleaming under the fractured moonlight, talons glinting like sharpened blades. With effortless grace, it descended from the heavens, its powerful form cutting through the sky with unchallenged dominance.
And then—impact.
Despite its sheer size, the Griffin landed softly—a stark contrast to the storm it had brought with it. Its claws barely disturbed the dirt as it settled, wings folding neatly against its powerful frame, its piercing golden eyes scanning the scene before it.
Silence.
Even Dravo, ever arrogant, took a step back.
The Griffin’s presence alone was enough to silence lesser creatures, and yet, as I sat there, bound but smirking, I could only laugh.
"Oh, this just keeps getting better," I mused, my voice rich with amusement as my gaze flickered up toward the legendary beast. "What’s next? The gods themselves?"
The Griffin’s voice was deep, resonant, and ancient—carrying the weight of centuries, of wisdom far beyond mortal comprehension. His golden eyes, sharp as blades yet heavy with something almost mournful, locked onto mine.
"Mikhail," he spoke my name with the kind of disappointment that could crush a weaker man. "What happened to you?"
I held his gaze, unwavering, unbothered. If anything, his concern only amused me.
"What happened?" I echoed, tilting my head slightly, my smirk never fading. "*I *evolved.**"
The Griffin exhaled, a deep, rumbling sound that was neither anger nor acceptance, but something in between. "You already saw what the mirror showed you," he continued, his massive wings shifting slightly, as if restless. "You know what awaits those who let their power consume them. And yet—"
"And yet," I interrupted smoothly, "I still chose this path. Because the mirror showed me the truth, Griffin."
I leaned forward despite the restraints, my voice dripping with certainty. "Power isn’t a curse. It’s a gift. The only ones who call it dangerous are the ones too weak to wield it."*
A flicker of something crossed the Griffin’s expression—anger? Grief? It was hard to tell.
"You fool," he murmured, shaking his head. "Power without control is not strength. It is destruction."
I let out a low chuckle. "*Then let me *destroy.**"
Amd then a long, piercing howl echoed through the air, sending shivers down the spines of those weak enough to fear it. The sound was raw, primal—announcing the arrival of yet another so-called savior.
I smirked. "The dog."
A guttural snarl cut through the tense silence, followed by the unmistakable sound of heavy paws against the earth. A blur of movement—dark fur, gleaming fangs, and eyes that burned like molten gold—came rushing forward with unrestrained aggression.
The werewolf.
He came to a stop just feet away from me, his towering form tense with barely contained rage. His claws flexed, ready to strike, his sharp canines bared in open hostility. "You reek of corruption, Mikhail," he growled, his voice rough and edged with fury. "What have you done?"
I only chuckled, tilting my head as I observed him with amusement. "Oh, relax," I drawled, stretching my fingers as if testing my restraints. "I was just enjoying a little power. You of all creatures should understand, shouldn't you? Instinct. Strength. The hunger to dominate."
His snarl deepened, his ears flattening against his head. "This isn't strength. This is madness."
I grinned wider, unfazed. "Madness?" I repeated, my voice laced with mockery. "Or is it just the kind of power that makes you uncomfortable?"
His growl rumbled deep in his chest, his entire body coiled and ready to pounce. The others—Kael, Dravo, even the Queen of Merpeople—watched in tense silence. They were waiting. Waiting for the moment when words would no longer be enough.
Good.
Let them try. Let them all try.
I dared them.
The werewolf, now in his human form, stood tall and tense, his bare chest rising and falling with steady breaths as he fought to contain his frustration. His golden eyes burned with barely restrained fury as he glared at me, as if his gaze alone could force me back to my senses.
"Queen, Dianara is here," he said, his voice firm as he turned his attention toward the Queen of Merpeople. But then, almost immediately, his snarl returned as he looked back at me. "He's covered in black magic," he continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "*And his power—it's unnatural. He should only be regaining his full strength when the crown is in his hands. What the fuck happened?"
The Queen of Merpeople sighed, rubbing her temple as if the weight of the situation was pressing down on her. "That’s what I keep asking," she said, her blue-green eyes narrowing. "What happened? Why did he reach this kind of level? It’s too early—it’s too dangerous, not just for him but for every other creature around him."
"He was betrayed by his friend," a new voice interjected, calm yet burdened with knowledge.
All eyes turned toward the Queen of Centaurs as she stood near the back, her deep brown gaze locked onto the ancient book she held in her hands. The Book of Life.
My book.
"And," she continued, her voice steady as she read, "one of his closest friends died because of it. His mind—his very soul—has begun recreating the memory over and over again. He’s trapped in it, reliving it, twisting it, until reality itself has started to bend under the weight of his grief and rage."
Her words were met with heavy silence.
They understood now.
The reason my power had surged. The reason my aura had turned black. The reason I no longer cared for their laws, their rules, their pathetic moralities.
I laughed. Low and quiet at first, but it grew, echoing through the space between us like a promise of something far worse to come.
"Betrayal," I mused, my voice drenched in amusement, "is the greatest teacher of them all."
The Griffin exhaled sharply. "And what have you learned, Mikhail?"
I smirked. "That kindness is weakness. That trust is a lie. That power is the only thing that cannot be taken from me.*"
Silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
And then, the Queen of Merpeople whispered the words that sealed their decision.
"We have to stop him."