POV Author
The scream did not fade.
It fractured.
It echoed through the space between worlds, tearing at the thin seam the red witch had carved open—until reality itself seemed to recoil.
Zara's body convulsed on the cold floor. Her fingers clawed uselessly at the stone as the last surge of foreign power ripped through her veins, scorching, invasive. The red in her eyes flickered wildly before dimming, leaving behind something darker.
Something wounded.
The chamber lights steadied.
Silence fell.
Whoosh
Heavy. Suffocating.
Footsteps approached—measured, unhurried.
William emerged from the shadows, his presence bending the darkness around him like a loyal thing. His gaze swept the room once, then fixed on the red witch.
She stood perfectly still at the center of the sigil.
Unshaken.
Unapologetic.
But her eyes—
William's narrowed slightly.
"Your eyes," he said calmly. "They were red."
The symbols in the air slowly dissolved, sinking back into nothingness. The witch exhaled, long and satisfied, as if she had just finished a feast.
"Yes," she replied.
Zara pushed herself up onto her elbows, breath ragged. Her head snapped toward them.
William's gaze did not leave the witch. "What did you do?"
The red witch smiled.
Not kindly.
Not cruelly.
Possessively.
"I reclaimed what was mine."
Zara's blood went cold.
William finally turned, noticing her properly now—the blood streaking her hand, the tremor in her limbs, the fury blazing behind her pain.
"Explain," he said.
The witch tilted her head, considering him. "Power is never created," she said softly. "It is divided. Passed. Taken."
Her eyes flicked to Zara.
"I merely borrowed from my daughter."
The word struck like a blade.
Daughter.
Zara staggered to her feet.
"You—" Her voice broke, then hardened. "You took it."
The witch met her glare without flinching. "I took what you could not protect."
Zara laughed—a sharp, broken sound. "You nearly killed me."
"And yet," the witch said, stepping closer, her crimson gaze glowing faintly once more, "you survived."
Zara's hands clenched, dark energy pulsing erratically around her fingers. "You used me like a vessel."
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No regret.
William watched them carefully now. "That power," he said slowly. "Where did it reach?"
The witch's smile widened.
"Far."
---
Across the realms—
Shou Feng stiffened as if struck.
The lanterns in the courtyard flickered violently. The river of light below them rippled, reflections shattering into jagged lines. Music faltered. Laughter died mid-breath.
Anna gasped as a pressure slammed into her chest—familiar, wrong, burning .
Her Wind Whispers screamed.
Not words.
Warnings.
Shou Feng's shadow snapped sharply at his feet, stretching, clawing at the stone as his aura surged uncontrollably.
"That was not a test," he said, voice low and lethal.
Mong sobered instantly. "That was a pull."
Kiyoshi rose to his feet, expression grim. "Something took power."
Anna turned to Shou Feng, fear tightening her throat. "From where?"
His jaw clenched.
"From someone connected to us."
The wind howled through the courtyard, lanterns swaying violently now. Somewhere deep beneath the palace, ancient wards groaned in protest.
Shou Feng's eyes burned.
"She knows about you," he said to Anna.
Her heart dropped. "Who?"
"The red witch."
Far away—
Zara collapsed back against the wall, shaking with rage and pain, her glare locked onto the woman who had ruined her.
"You used my blood," she whispered. "My soul."
The witch crouched before her, lifting Zara's chin with two fingers—gentle, mocking.
"I awakened what you are," she murmured. "Be grateful."
William looked away.
Because for the first time—
He was not sure who the monster was.
And across, as powers stirred and destinies twisted, one truth became clear:
The pause was over.
The story had begun moving again.
And it would not stop until something broke.
---
To be continued…