Meanwhile, Sophie had been sent to a world unlike any other —
a forsaken planet known as Noctwrath,
a place that devoured every trace of light that touched its surface.
No gleam escaped. No shadow fled.
As if the planet itself fed on darkness.
Through a swirling crimson witch portal, Sora stepped onto this cursed world — her infant daughter nestled silently in her arms.
At the edge of a vast and haunting forest, she paused.
The trees stood tall — ancient Blackwoods with bark as dark as obsidian, their trunks streaked with glowing blue veins that pulsed like arteries. The air was still, thick, and cold, untouched by time or sunlight.
Cradling her daughter close, Sora ventured into the depths of the forest. Her steps brushed over twisted roots and moss-veiled stones, each one whispering stories of silence and suffering.
Beyond the woodland gloom, a grand silhouette emerged — a towering, ominous palace, both regal and terrifying.
This was the domain of Musa,
the ancient queen of the Wetherwolves — a race of wolves gifted with elemental control over weather, though bound by its natural limits.
Once the revered mentor of the Crimson Witches, Musa had trained countless generations, including Sora and Soma themselves. But now, Sora returned not as a disciple…
but as a mother.
Inside, the palace loomed like a monument to forgotten gods. Massive pillars held aloft a high ceiling, etched with runes in languages even Sora and Soma couldn't decipher — despite having studied within these walls for years.
Then she appeared — Musa.
Descending with a grace only age and power could gift, her silver fur shimmered like moonlight. Her eyes, glowing with ancient wisdom, landed on the child in Sora's arms.
"So... this is your daughter," she said, her voice steady and cold.
"I can mold her. I can make her greater than you — darker, stronger.
But remember this, Sora: never let her fall in love.
That is your only warning.
Because only love... can change your kind."
Sora bowed her head, holding Sophie tighter.
> "I understand, Mother Musa. But I have just one request —
make her the most powerful evil the cosmos has ever witnessed."
A slow smile spread across Musa's lips, "So be it. Return in ten years... and behold what she becomes."
---
Ten Years Later
For a decade, Musa shaped Sophie into a weapon.
She taught her to silence emotions.
To kill without pause or regret.
To destroy anything — or anyone — that stood in her path.
Even if it meant her own mother.
And as the years passed, Sophie ceased being a child.
She became Musa's greatest creation — a soul forged in cruelty, tempered in shadow.
---
When ten years had passed, Sora and Soma returned to Noctwrath.
The forest greeted them with suffocating silence.
Eyes blinked through the trees. Growls stirred beneath the soil.
Whispers danced in the mist.
And then — a shape emerged.
A girl, no older than ten, but tall and commanding. Her eyes blazed crimson, her stance firm. She looked straight at them.
"Step back, you bitches," she growled.
"Or my puppies will fry you and feast on your bones."
Soma smirked, folding her arms,"So now you'd kill your own mother? Well done, Sophie. You've been trained well."
Sophie narrowed her gaze,"Mother? I don't have one.
Don't try that trick — I've never even seen her."
Sora stepped forward, tears brimming, "My daughter…
My Sophie...
I've missed you every day, my sweet girl."
Before the moment could settle, Sophie shoved her back.
She showed no hesitation — just cold, trained instinct.
But then — Musa arrived.
Her presence silenced the air.
"Sophie," she said, her voice calm and cutting,
"They're telling the truth.
She is your mother."
Sophie froze.
The words echoed inside her like a forgotten song.
She turned to Sora, trembling — something inside her breaking loose.
"Mother…?" she whispered.
"Mother…"
And then — she ran into her mother's arms,
held tight by the woman who had once given her life,
and then given her away.
---
Later, in the clearing, Musa stood beside them once more.
"Now," she said to Sophie, "show them what I've taught you."
Without pause, Sophie raised her hands.
The Crimson Flame exploded from her palms,
a swirling inferno that scorched through the forest.
Fire erupted in every direction, reshaping the landscape with pure, unrelenting power.
Sora and Soma watched, awestruck.
She wasn't a child.
She wasn't even a witch.
She was a force.
"She's ready," Musa whispered.
And so, they left Noctwrath —
a planet that had shaped her soul —
and returned to the realm of the Crimson Witches.
---
As they arrived, Sophie's breath caught in her throat.
Floating rocks drifted across a blood-red sky, each carrying enchanted witch homes lit with magical symbols.
Above them all hovered the grand palace — carved from obsidian and adorned with glowing scarlet runes.
Inside, the architecture twisted in impossible directions —
staircases floating mid-air, chandeliers of blood-crystal humming softly, and runes drifting like embers through the halls.
In her room, shelves overflowed with spellbooks. Near the corner stood a tall, ornate mirror.
Sophie stared at it in disgust, "Mother. What is that mirror doing in my room?"
Sora smiled gently, "It's for you, my heart."
But Sophie's voice cut through the warmth like ice.
"Remove it.
I'm not like other girls.
I don't need mirrors.
I don't want beauty.
I want power.
I'm not a girl.
I'm a witch."
Sora flinched — the words stung.
But she nodded.
The mirror was removed.
And thus began Sophie's life as a Crimson Witch —
a life carved in shadow, bound by power,
and forged by a destiny darker than even her mother could imagine.