The battlefield outside was alive with chaos. Roots tore through the soil, beasts shrieked in agony, and the fog pressed down like a suffocating blanket.
Egry's body trembled as she pushed herself beyond her limits, her golden hair dimming to ash, her knees raw against the stone floor. Each pulse of power drained her further, veins burning black-red as if the forest itself was bleeding through her.
High above the clash, Lily sat trembling on the roots that carried her. Tears streaked her face as memories of her past clawed their way back. She had never known a sister who cared. Her own blood had mocked her, burned her hands when she dared to play instead of study, laughed at her pain, and left her broken. But Brittany was different.
Brittany fought for her, protected her, and for the first time Lily felt what it meant to be loved. The thought that Brittany might not survive was devastating, and her heart cracked under the weight of it.
The roots began to falter, their grip weakening as Egry's strength waned. Mira's voice echoed faintly through the communicator, urging Egry to land Lily safely and then rest. The roots obeyed, lowering Lily gently to the castle's courtyard.
The air there was heavy with silence, the towering walls of the mansion looming like watchful sentinels. As Lily's feet touched the ground, Egry collapsed, her body folding into the pit's shadows, drained and fragile.
The pit's door creaked open with a sound like rusted iron tearing apart. Mrs. Hodgins stepped inside, her presence filling the chamber with venomous authority.
Her smile was sharp, her eyes glowing with cruel delight. "Your little charades are over, you wench," she hissed, her voice echoing against the stone walls.
Mira turned, her body suddenly lifted into the air by unseen force. The chamber was suffocating, its walls dripping with dampness, the floor slick with shadows that seemed alive.
Egry lay motionless, collapsed in the corner, her faint glow extinguished. Mrs. Hodgins sneered, her words cutting through the silence. "Oh, so the girl hasn't died yet. Well… she isn't much of a headline now, is she?"
Mira's tears fell, splattering against the cold stone floor. Then the pain began. Scars etched themselves across her skin, glowing like firebrands, as though something was carving her from the inside.
She screamed, her voice breaking against the cavernous dark. Her body convulsed, her cries echoing like shattered glass.
And then—silence.
The tears stopped. Her body went cold. Her form dissolved into the shadows, swallowed whole by the pit's darkness.
To be continued…