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UE Rewrite: B4 — 13. The Shade Upon Scarlet Hands
🕑 Added 2024-12-06 23:24:21 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Edmon (Our Father and Husband w/ a Frozen Heart!)
2. Jennifer (Our Scarlet Hand Leader in this World!)
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Haunting blue light radiated from the giant frozen dome as Edmon watched the tiny, sparkling frost crystals begin to fall. Its icy walls refracted like shards of a shattered mirror. Each sharp edge reflected his blackened frost armor, his broad tower shield planted firmly into the crystalline ground. Frost crawled outward from his feet, a slow, relentless tide that glimmered with the light of his icy aura, saturating the battlefield with chilling inevitability.
Dalria’s breaths came sharp and quick, visible puffs in the frigid air as she dropped down to level a dark grin his way. “You humans love your theatrics,” she hissed, voice laced with venom as she shifted her stance, every muscle coiled. “You think this cage of ice will stop me from killing your daughter? I’m not like those ri’bot you faced who were crippled in snow. As a Xaria, I’ve trained in the frozen peaks of the valley mountains.”
Edmon’s pale blue eyes glowed faintly behind his helm, his voice, low and resonant, cutting through the cold air like a blade. “You misunderstand, Jennifer’s Pawn,” he said, his words deliberate, each syllable weighted with disdain while not even acknowledging her name. “This is no cage… It is your grave.”
Her orange skin stood out vividly against the monochrome landscape as the woman’s slick tongue slid out to wet her lips, and her third eye, a grotesque mark of Revilla’s influence, dripped crimson tears that evaporated before touching the frost-kissed ground.
“Is that so…”
Spear hovering at her side in a taunting gesture for him to attack, Edmon didn’t budge, yet it took everything in him to keep himself from unleashing the demon he’d bottled up within. Instead, he let it whisper and scheme as he watched her gaze dart to the growing layer of frost overtaking the once-muddy earth gradually crawling toward her feet.
“You’re stalling as your daughter’s loyal defender,” she sneered, the third eye growing wider. “You have no clue how prepared I was to eradicate your daughter…”
Without warning, Dalria launched forward, her crimson-infused spear blurring with speed as she lunged, the strike aimed for his eye slit. He didn’t flinch. His massive shield moved like a glacial wall, intercepting the weapon with a resounding clang. The frost spread instantly from the point of contact, tendrils of ice creeping along her weapon’s shaft, yet he didn’t come away unscathed—the crimson energy latched onto his bulwark like webbing.
[Assaulted by Unknown Element: Resisted]
Dalria cursed when the force flaked away into ice. She twisted away, wrenching her spear free before the frost could claim it entirely. She retreated several paces, her feet skidding slightly on the ice-slicked ground. With a flick of her wrist, she produced a crimson-infused grenade from her belt, the dull metal sphere reflecting the dome’s ethereal light. She hurled it at his feet, leaping back as the explosion erupted, sending shards of ice and ruby shrapnel flying.
The smoke cleared to reveal Edmon, unscathed, his shield raised. The frost around him flickered between the red hue and his icy blue before the wispy light was once again smothered. The ice was now thicker and darker where the grenade had struck.
[Assaulted by Unknown Element: Resisted]
He stepped forward, his movement slow, methodical, as the frost advanced with him, the air around his armored frame growing colder, heavier.
“How! That is the raw power of Revilla, transferred through my devotion to her—”
“Devotion?” he murmured, his voice carrying a frigid edge. “You know nothing of the word when it comes to a father’s love…a husband’s grief. What do you know? Always clawing, always running, never able to escape what you are—a tool, wielded by some faceless being that demands but never reciprocates.”
“Strong words from a corpse playing dad,” she snarled, darting sideways, her movements quick and precise as Edmon’s fist shook behind his shield. “You could never hope to land a blow on a Xaria… My revenge is inevitable!”
“Revenge?” He couldn’t help a low chuckle at the word. “Have you considered that your desire for revenge does not come within the same realm as me, and that is why your attacks lack…substance.”
“You know nothing of the humiliation of Chief Krava!” From the treeline that rimmed the icy dome, Dalria pulled out a long device, stolen from the Roxim’s armory—a rocket launcher. “You disgraced our entire clan by your trickery and turned his oldest friend into an enemy!”
Sapphire mist leaking out of his visor, Edmon let the silence be his response. With a sharp crack, she pulled the firing pin. The rocket popped out, fire and smoke streaking out as it screamed toward him. Edmon simply detached the smaller, circular shield from the back of his tower shield with a metallic hiss—the rocket exploded.
Pressure and heat roared around him, yet Edmon refused to take a step back as he powered through the crimson-infused modern weapon.
[Assaulted by Unknown Element: Resisted]
Smoke swirling around him with ice and dirt fragments raining outward, he stepped out of the falling debris, drew back his arm, and hurled it like a spinning saw blade. The shield left a line of blue dust in its wake as it passed right through Dalria to strike the trunk behind her, erupting in a cloud of sapphire mist. Dalria’s image hazed as her laughter came from the high branches of a black wooden tree to his right.
“Your daughter was faster than you when running for her life.”
Edmon silently held up his hand, smooth ice forming into the circular shield as it reformed itself. Five grenades dropped down from every angle, the sound and shrapnel peppering him from every angle, but he felt none of it—he couldn’t. All he could hear was the words he spoke to his daughter upon giving himself over to the ice that had enclosed his heart.
My daughter, I swear to protect you for eternity…
“Vengeance is my only ward, pawn of Jennifer,” he whispered, as he continued his glacial advance toward her through the swirling mist, growing thicker by the second. “Human weapons, modified by your dead god or whatever she is… You’ve prepared well. But this isn’t a contest of preparation, tool. What did you say… I am inevitable.”
Dalria growled, her third eye gleaming with unnatural light as she launched herself forward, flanking him in a flash. Her strikes came in rapid and varied—slashes, thrusts, and quick feints designed to exploit any opening. Yet, each movement was met by the unyielding defense of his armor, even the openings refusing to give way due to the invisible force defending them.
He maintained his advance, wherever she retreated to, moving with the inevitability of creeping frost, always in the right place, always a step closer.
“Tell me,” he said, his tone quieter now, almost conversational as his inner demon drew nearer to the surface with every blow. “When you murdered my wife—when you tore apart the life I built—did you ever wonder what it would cost you… What it would cost your clan?”
Dalria faltered, her grip tightening on her spear as she leaped back to evade another thrown shield that she easily avoided, leaving it to strike another tree. “I did what I was told, as a soldier should. She was merely a bridge to your daughter’s soul… You have no idea what horrors lie chained deep within her dead flesh!”
Edmon’s voice turned colder, the frost at his feet spreading faster, encasing nearby rocks and roots in thick shimmering ice, the fog deepening. “We had plans, you know,” he whispered, almost to himself, his words carrying the weight of something deeply buried that ached to be spoken. “A house by the lake in rural California. A garden greenhouse she would tend. Elinor off at college, making her mark on the world. I would’ve retired. Perhaps even—”
He cut himself off, his breath visible in the freezing air as he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. You ended all of that… Jennifer and her organization ended that,” he hissed, jagged ice crystals forming around his steps now. “You, a wild animal, desperate for scraps of power handed down by others, ended that.”
Dalria’s third eye narrowed, her voice sharpening. “What foolishness do you humans believe in? I didn’t take her from you. Your weakness did. You failed to protect her, and you’ll fail your daughter, too. Just like you always did to protect her from Jennifer’s manipulations. I heard she was kidnapped from the sanctuary you hid her in…and killed while you went to stuff your mouth with your dead wife.”
The words struck like a blow, and for a moment, the frost wavered, the air growing heavier with tension. But Edmon’s grip on his shield tightened, and the cold returned with renewed ferocity, tingles cascading up his spine.
“I did fail my family,” he reflected, his tone glacial as he looked past the swirling mist to see the smirking toad woman, her five of her daggers stuck into his ice dome, attempting to eat their way out—their crimson energy was smothered under his gaze. “I promised my daughter I would never let that happen again… And now, I have a chance to get my wife back…”
Reaching up, Edmon removed his helmet to stare at the shivering toad as she pieced it together and a cold smile lifted his lips. “But this time…you will not be there to take her from me again. It seems you didn’t train long enough in those mountains.”
“What…” Dalria glanced back, seeing her daggers, iced over and brittle as glass. “You’ve been lowering the temperature the entire time… Why does nothing work against you!” she shouted, jumping to one of the few non-frozen areas left, the advancing ice from his thrown shields continuing to expand.
“Do you feel it, pawn? Wild frogs don’t realize they’re being cooked if you turn the heat up little by little… It seems the reverse works for toads.”
He took another step, the silence now deafening as Dalria quaked, realizing how thick the dome around them had become. Dalria’s gaze darted to the edges, where the frost had almost entirely consumed the soil.
“It’s never been about hitting you,” he coolly whispered, having left a specific zone ice free to corner the proud orange-skinned toad. “The moment you were in my cage, my hands were creeping in… Slow, patient…reaching until every muscle stiffens…every breath burns with crystals digging into your dry throat… My hands reaching deep into your lungs, making the air dense…painful.”
Her eyes widened as she jumped to a nearby bush, fumbling with another rocket launcher and cursing her Supreme Chiefs when the pin broke against her pressure. He took another step, cracking ice resounding in the confined space. She flung the rocket at the wall with shocking strength, causing a sharp explosion—it hardly left a mark.
“This…this isn’t supposed to—I was… She gave me the power—Lady Revilla’s power,” she spat, her voice tinged with both fury and fear as she stumbled back and revealed her final weapon—a machine gun. Yet, her fingers were now stiff while trying to keep the blood flowing as she pressed the button, her aim erratic. “I received all of…of her power… I have her eye. Why d-didn’t she show me… I have your weapons… Stay away!”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Edmon mumbled, not even blinking as he allowed the bullets to ricochet off his armor and face, leaving only minor cuts. He released his shield as he stepped closer, letting the futility of her shaking body press in on the woman. His pale blue eyes leered upon the pathetic creature. “You were always a sacrifice. Why would Revilla use you—the thing that killed my wife—to separate me from my daughter?”
The trembling machine gun fell from Dalria’s stiffening fingers, her breaths shallow and ragged as the frost encroached on her knees, locking her in place. Her third eye twitched, weeping crimson tears that froze before they could reach the ground. The riot of emotions etched on her face—pride, desperation, and disbelief—spoke volumes as Edmon’s shadow fell over her, blotting out the faint blue light of the dome.
His steps were slow, the resonant crack of ice beneath his boots punctuating the silence. The sapphire mist streaming from his naked eyes coiled lazily around them, as if savoring the moment. When he stopped, towering above her, the stillness returned, save for the soft hiss of frost biting into the ground.
“Did you truly believe,” Edmon began, his voice a measured, resonant whisper, “that you ever embodied the strength of a Xaria like the Lethix’s? Inora and Welix are leagues above you.”
Dalria’s throat worked, but no words escaped. The spear she had wielded with such precision now hung limply from her frozen hand, its shaft encased in frost. Her eyes darted to the edges of the dome, where the faint remnants of heat in the soil disappeared, the creeping cold rendering even the air too dense to inhale deeply.
“I’ve spent the last few months watching and learning your culture. You cling to the title like a drowning creature reaching for flotsam,” he continued, his tone devoid of anger but weighted with disdain. “But it was never yours to hold. Your Chief—Krava—he is nothing compared to Valdar. Your chief is but an aged figurehead. A relic of a clan that has long since lost its direction.”
Dalria’s lips parted, her voice a thin rasp. “You… You don’t know him…”
“I know him better than you, it seems.” His gaze brightened, pale blue light spilling from his eyes. “I see the threads he’s pulled, the web he’s spun to maintain his throne amongst the valley clans, boasting of his prime.
“He’s blinded himself with his own importance, his vanity keeping his grip on a dying people. He could have built strength, cultivated resilience in your clan, but instead, he promoted mediocrity to safeguard his position. And you—” His armored hand gestured faintly toward her, frost blooming from his gauntlet like a flower. “You are the culmination of his legacy.”
Dalria’s teeth clenched, her third eye burning brighter in defiance, though her body betrayed her struggle to resist. “You…know nothing of our pain, of our clan! We have strong Xaria—stronger than me! You know nothing of what it means to survive under constant oppression and expectations!”
Edmon’s breath hissed visibly from his mouth as he lowered himself to her hunkered level, his towering presence forcing her gaze upward. “And what have you achieved with your so-called survival? Look around you. Division. A fractured faith in your Supreme Chiefs. A fractured faith in yourselves.”
His voice grew quieter, yet it seemed to resonate deeper, the frost encasing Dalria’s legs climbing steadily higher. “So much so that you jumped at the first phantom hand extended to you—Revilla’s Scarlet Hand—dripping with lies and poison. You are everything your people claimed the Roxim were.”
Dalria’s eyes widened, a flicker of raw fear flashing beneath her defiance. Her mouth opened, but the icy air caught in her throat, her protests reduced to a thin gasp. He could see his words digging at the consolation of beliefs that made her who she was, dimming every dying star.
“And now?” Edmon murmured, his voice soft as a blade sliding into its sheath. “The Roxim stand renewed, their Mysticism restored under my daughter’s power, their faith unshaken. And you? What do you have for your defiance, violence, and hatred?”
His hand hovered over her shoulder, the frost thickening around her torso. “A homeland lost? A people running to the doorstep of those you looked down upon? A clan begging the Great Clans for salvation while you bleed out the last remnants of your dignity at the feet of your new Scarlet goddess.”
Dalria shook her head, her third eye glowing dimmer as her limbs shuddered against the creeping ice. “No… No, we were…we were stronger than them. He’s a legend—Chief Krava… He—”
“Krava failed you,” Edmon stated, his armored fingers descending onto her shoulder, the contact sending tendrils of frost spidering out over her placid skin. “And in turn, you failed yourselves by making us your enemy beyond redemption.”
She tried to recoil, but the frost gripping her legs now climbed to her chest, locking her muscles in place. Each breath came shallow and labored, her struggles reduced to little more than feeble twitches.
“We could have been allies,” Edmon continued, his voice devoid of malice yet cutting in its finality. “Supported one another like the Wixum did by opening their arms to us. Your name could have been remembered in triumph…glory, even. Instead, the Komath will be nothing but a footnote in history.”
Dalria’s face contorted in silent fury, but her words remained unspoken, her throat choked by the cold. Edmon leaned closer, his pale eyes glowing faintly through the mist.
“History remembers strength, Dalria,” he whispered, the frost creeping into her throat and down to ice over her spasming lungs. “And your clan—your Chief—chose pride and weakness over survival… You chose to seal their fate in murdering my wife. And choices have consequences.”
The finality of his words struck like a hammer. The frost claimed her entirely, her defiance locked forever in a tableau of stillness, her third eye’s glow extinguished. Edmon straightened, the cold radiating from him filling the dome with a hollow silence.
He regarded her frozen form for a moment longer before turning away and taking one step in the direction of his daughter, he released the fury of the ice within his chest. The dome cracked, fissures running down Dalria’s frozen body, and then it all shattered to diamond dust to be swept away in a rush of hurricane winds from the north.
The dazzling radiance was swept away as if the toad woman had never existed. Edmon’s cold voice resonated through the Nexus, feeling Red and Black retreating toward Quin and the Roxim civilians, his daughter already inside the tunnels beneath his feet.
The tool is dead… I’m on my way.
* — * — *
Jennifer’s breath caught as the icy grip of death tightened through her connection to Dalria, the chilling sensation making her knees momentarily weak. Her vision tunneled, hijacked by the scarlet brand of Revilla, forcing her to witness the Xaria’s final moments through her third eye. The unnatural cold coursed through her blood, numbing her extremities as though the frost was her own.
Dalria’s desperation screamed through the connection for help, deliverance, but Jennifer dismissed it, her focus stolen by the towering figure standing over the Xaria’s crumpled form—Edmon. The knight’s obsidian frost armor seemed alive, refracting blue light as ice climbed across Dalria’s twitching limbs, locking her in a statuesque pose.
Relentless… Unstoppable. He wasn’t like this on Earth. His daughter’s taint on his soul, hardening him and fueling his spirit with her power… How is it this potent when she’s so heavily sealed?
Jennifer’s lips pressed into a tight line, her voice sharp in her mind. Lady Revilla, you told me we could seal her if we obtained this treasure…but she’s only getting closer.
Revilla’s laughter oozed through Jennifer’s mind like blood congealing over jagged bone, a guttural, wet sound that dragged against her consciousness. The Eldritch presence writhed, an all-consuming force that bore down on her with the weight of a thousand mutilated realities.
“Dalria’s failure was expected, but her agony...” she spoke, her voice dripping with sadistic relish, each syllable like a pulsating wound, splitting and reforming in Jennifer’s thoughts. “...a symphony. Her terror will feed me as she joins my beloved host, and still, it would not be enough to sate the hunger of what I am becoming… What I must become to face what is to come.”
Jennifer clenched her fists, forcing the bile creeping up her throat to subside. You said she would hold Elinor back… At least for a time.
“And I delivered.” The entity’s chuckle morphed into a cacophony of screams layered beneath a voice thick with malice, reverberating in tones Jennifer could scarcely comprehend. “At least, in part. Yet the creature you face is more than a mortal’s burden of flesh… You know this by the command she elicited from such a creature as a hag. Elinor gathers the shards of power within her like a carrion drawn to rotting dreams, piecing herself into something beyond even me…for now.”
The crimson hand branded on Jennifer’s chest flared, sending shocks of molten heat down her spine. A distorted whisper slithered from the mark, merging with Revilla’s whispers into a discordant harmony that frayed at the edges of reality.
“You are but a fragment of my reach, Jennifer, a splinter driven into the heart of an unraveling world. A world that I exiled Elinor and her damnable sister to. And you would presume to question me after all I have accomplished in banishing hosts of beings you cannot comprehend to the Outlands? That Infernal woman of chains and her host plucks her smiling links behind The Twins’ shadow. Of course she is making ground with her devout hare answering her caressing whispers.”
A cold sweat broke across her brow. Jennifer forced her breathing to steady, straightening under the oppressive weight of Revilla’s attention.
Elinor is getting help from deities beyond the 7th Wall? So that’s how she managed to get such a powerful hag on her side. She’s devouring everything in her path, My Lady. Every piece I’ve captivated in your glory. The Komath, the Xaltan, all the weapons I obtained from shattering the Roxim… All of it was swept away in that hurricane that damned hag generated. What do I have left to counter her? I cannot go to the Black City now.”
Revilla’s form manifested in Jennifer’s mind’s eye, causing her to pause, not as a singular shape but as an endless cascade of grotesque imagery—twisting tendrils of sinew, erupting eyes that blinked in patterns of unknown meaning, and mouths that spoke truths not meant for mortal comprehension.
“You speak of countering, little vessel, as though you have the capacity to play in a game this vast. But I have already given you the answer…” The voice shifted, tones layering upon one another until Jennifer could feel them clawing at her sanity. “Behold, your savior.”
Without warning, Jennifer’s vision twisted and fractured, dragging her into an overwhelming cascade of countless eyes. Each unblinking gaze pinned her in place, plunging her consciousness into a torrent of sights she could scarcely comprehend.
Suddenly, she was staring at the nalvean man beside her, his reptilian features etched with curiosity that felt far too knowing. Before she could process the moment, flashes of vivid images erupted across her mind, each sharper and more disorienting than the last.
A sprawling nalvean city sprawled before a shimmering ruby lake, its waters glistening like molten jewels. Beneath its serene surface lay a labyrinthine facility, cloaked in shadow and mystery as deadly arachnids proweld within webbed nests. The scene shifted abruptly, yanking her awareness across vast distances to a string of islands rising from a restless sea.
There, a colossal volcano loomed, belching amethyst smoke that coiled through the heavens like ghostly serpents. The imagery didn’t end above ground—her vision plunged beneath the waves, revealing an intricate web of hidden underwater networks, pulsating with a strange, otherworldly energy. The nexus below surged with an unrelenting power, veins of light stretching across the ocean floor, seeping into the abyss.
Jennifer’s knees hit the cold metal of Jumi’kerune’s hovering rune device, her breath heaving as the shattered remnants of the vision lingered, tearing at the edges of her mind like glass shards. The cavern’s flickering light felt dimmer now, each shadow more oppressive, each breath of air thinner, as though the world itself had recoiled from what she had seen.
Jumi’kerune’s calm, measured gaze settled on her. The Grand Designer’s towering frame loomed above, his reptilian features betraying only the faintest hint of curiosity. The eerie glow from his hovering platform cast shifting patterns across the walls, illuminating the perfect holes they floated through. His smooth voice broke the suffocating silence with his hand motions, carrying an unsettling resonance.
“You’ve seen it, haven’t you? The pathways beneath our feet… The web of connections that even my previous master dared not fully tread.” He gestured lazily toward the cavern’s far wall, his clawed hand curling in a motion that suggested infinite depth. “The Great Shadow within the heart of this planet has whispered its truth to me—our paths, entwined, are a pact struck in your lady’s name, it appears.”
Jennifer forced herself upright, one trembling hand bracing against the smooth edge of his platform. She fought to steady her breathing, burying the disarray of her mind beneath a mask of sharp focus. “I didn’t come this far to play messenger to the riddles of your trapped shadow entity,” she managed, her voice steady despite the lingering echo of Revilla’s eldritch touch clawing at her thoughts. “You’ll find I have my own games to play.”
Jumi’kerune’s golden eyes gleamed, his smile parting to reveal rows of serrated teeth. “I would expect nothing less. A woman who dances in the wake of annihilation cannot afford to be merely a piece on the board. I do wonder what your lady actually showed you…”
Her smile rose as she got to her feet and adjusted her ripped clothes, understanding beginning to bloom within her soul. “What did she show me? Why…your secret Jumi’kerune. Such research underneath your estate must be costly to maintain without your High Ruler taking notice.”
His smile fell slightly. “Oh, how resourceful, little tailless monkey. Interesting. Still…”
The nalvean’s gaze drifted toward the cavern wall, where the air itself seemed to pulse faintly, carrying the weight of something ancient and primal that Jennifer could feel in her chest. “Knowing and experiencing the truth that comes from a World Devourer is something else entirely. You are here because you understand necessity. Survival demands alliances, even with shadows that can burn you at any given moment,” he mused, his gleaming aurelian gaze peering down at her.
With a flick of his hand, the platform beneath them began to hum, the vibrations reverberating through her bones. A smooth disk extended from its underside, a crystalline light around its edges glowing with a harsh, white light. Jumi’kerune clasped his hands behind his back, his tone almost amused. “Let us see if your resolve holds to the end with our little pacts. If it does… I can help you reach your goals at the Outer Isles.”
Jennifer’s spine stiffened, the hair on the back of her neck prickling as she gave him a measured sideward stare. It seems the being Elinor calls Shade has its own viability to peer past dimensional walls and communicate with Revilla… Am I just a tool? Even so… The end of all things is in the balance, and we can’t hope to face what is to come without them.
A beam of focused light erupted from the device, striking the cavern wall with a blinding intensity. Jennifer shielded her eyes as the beam burrowed through the ancient rock, melting it into bubbling magma that pooled and hissed at the edges of the newly formed tunnel. The air filled with the acrid tang of scorched stone, and the ground trembled beneath them as the rock begrudgingly gave way.
Jennifer’s voice was cold as she turned to him, her focus returning. “And what exactly do you expect to find on the other side, Grand Designer? I know this is a promised gift from my lady to you for your aid, but the details aren’t…clear to me.”
Jumi’kerune chuckled, the sound low and rippling like the surface of an oil-slicked lake. “I expect many things, my dear, but disappointment is rarely among them when dealing with my shadowy partner…and they say your information is beyond valuable.” He gestured toward the tunnel, its molten edges cooling rapidly into jagged, blackened stone. “Step into the Silken Nexus, if you dare. It is a place of beginnings…and endings.”
The cavern’s oppressive stillness deepened, and Jennifer’s gaze lingered on the dark opening. Her mind raced as fragments of Revilla’s cryptic laughter entwined with the venomous promise of power and the faintest hint of betrayal that would come from this union.
What lies beyond this breach? Another trap? Another layer of the endless game I’m forced to play? Adele made me a believer, but I’m more than just a tool in reality’s renewal… I’ll be a major piece to our salvation. You promised me, Lady Revilla, and you cannot lie. I will sacrifice my soul for it. I will not falter.
Jennifer steadied herself, wiping a thin stream of blood from her nose as the platform drifted forward into the newly excavated tunnel. The molten edges of the cavern walls pulsed with residual heat, while the acrid stench of scorched stone lingered in the air.
Despite the bone-deep chill from her connection to Revilla, her expression remained composed, her mind focused on the implications of what lay ahead. Jumi’kerune’s golden eyes flicked toward her, his serrated grin half-hidden in the eerie glow of his platform.
“You seem unfazed for someone who had a brush with a higher being and the secrets I keep. I expected more…hesitation from such a vulnerable thing.”
Jennifer shot him a sidelong glance, her voice measured. “Hesitation is a luxury I can’t afford, Grand Designer. Your secrets are intriguing, but I’m here to leverage them, not marvel at them, as fascinating as they are. My lady’s pact with your dark partner wasn’t for idle observation.”
The nalvean’s smile twitched, the faintest hint of amusement dancing in his gaze. “Ah, ever the pragmatic one. The witches of your kind that we passed seemed far less prepared compared to your temperament. I find it enthralling that you maintain such focus when the threads of your existence dangle so precariously in such an alien world to your species. You are either remarkably resilient or profoundly reckless.”
Jennifer adjusted her tattered cloak, her fingers brushing over the scarlet brand on her chest; a higher ritual brand performed by Adele herself. “A bit of both, perhaps. But you misunderstand something, Jumi’kerune. This isn’t about survival—it’s about winning against the bands of Fate which coil around all of Existence.”
The nalvean tilted his head. “Intriguing. Fate is a concept I’ve never quite believed in. A product of limited creatures unwilling to sacrifice to achieve their greater destiny. And do you believe you’re winning, little flesh emissary of chaos?”
She smirked, stepping toward the platform’s edge to peer into the darkness they inched into. “Winning isn’t always obvious. Sometimes, it’s about positioning the right pieces on the board and waiting for the moment to strike. Lady Revilla knows that, as does your dark partner… And so do I.”
Jumi’kerune chuckled, his voice rippling like disturbed water. “Interesting. Let us see if your confidence holds when the truths of this place confront you directly.”
Jennifer’s vision narrowed, her tone edged with steel. “Weakness doesn’t survive in Lady Revilla’s shadow. If this thélméthra is half as formidable as you suggest, she’ll recognize an ally worth keeping.”
The nalvean’s grin widened, and he gestured toward the dark, pulsating sack nestled amid the webbed silken walls ahead. “I think you misunderstand my intentions with this world calamity. We shall see. But beware—the threads of this place have eyes, and they are always watching, studying…salivating.”
The platform shuddered slightly as it entered the cavern’s heart. Jennifer inhaled deeply, steadying herself against the oppressive sensation of countless unseen gazes pressing down on her. The air grew heavier, colder, each breath dragging against her chest as though the space itself sought to test her resolve.
Chief Varnak emerged from the shadows at their back, his lithe form carrying an air of reverence as he approached. His sharp features remained neutral, though his eyes betrayed a glint of curiosity. The restrained dethroned ri’bot chief on one shoulder and the lifeless nalvean servant on the other presented a stark contrast to his otherwise composed demeanor.
“Jennifer,” the elder chief greeted, his tone measured but tinged with respect. “You walk willingly into the Silken Nexus, yet you do not falter. Perhaps there is more to you than the whispers of your Supreme Chief suggest.”
Jennifer met his gaze evenly, her expression unreadable; his son just died, but to them, it was in glory. “I don’t let whispers dictate my worth, Elder Chief Varnak. If you’re as perceptive as you claim, you already know that.”
The elder chuckled softly, setting down the restrained and gagged ri’bot with calculated precision. “A sharp tongue. You may need it when the Princess awakens.”
Jumi’kerune’s platform hovered closer, his gaze flicking between Jennifer and the pulsating silken cocoon ahead. “Enough posturing. Wasted time is not something that entertains me. The time for words is over. Prepare yourselves—what lies within this egg is neither ally nor enemy. It is potential incarnate, and how I proceed will determine her role in the threads of this fate you speak of, Jennifer.”
Jennifer’s focus sharpened as he spoke her name instead of some half-handed insult, her hand brushing the scarlet brand once more. The faint pulse of Revilla’s influence thrummed beneath her fingertips.
You and your shadow master think yourselves the leaders in this exchange, holding all the power…but my mistress has waited far longer than your darkness was even conceived.
“Then let’s ensure we’re the ones weaving those threads, Grand Designer. If not…Elinor will sink her hooks in you and show you what an inevitable fate means.”
The platform advanced, its crystalline hum echoing through the cavern as the air thickened with some new chemical she couldn’t identify. Jennifer’s mind raced, not with fear but calculation. Every step, every word, and every action from this point forward would determine the balance of power between Elinor, her sister, and her—no one else mattered or needed to be stopped.
As they neared the silken cocoon, the oppressive silence broke with a faint, rhythmic pulse. It wasn’t just a sound—a predatory lineage, ancient and alien, seeping into the marrow of her bones. Jennifer inhaled sharply, the weight of the moment pressing down on her, but she refused to falter as Jumi’kerune took out a syringe from his tool chest at the center of his platform, glancing at the Elder Chief with anticipation.
Jennifer didn’t flinch as he stepped forward to carefully insert it into the egg sack. In this game of gods and monsters, her role was clear: she would not be a pawn. She would be the one holding the board when the Grand Designer’s plans failed—Revilla had shown her his fall, and Elinor would not go unscathed.
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