Page 95 of Midnight Reign
“Addy!” Corvus launches himself into the air and crashes into me, shielding my body with his as another blast of dark energy from Alec sizzles overhead. I gasp for air, my lungs burning as I struggle to breathe.
“Stay with me, Dollie,” Corvus growls, his blue eyes blazing with determination. “We’re so close. You can do this.”
I nod weakly, gritting my teeth against the pain. Crimson’s essence writhes inside me, furious at being pulled back in. The separation had been agony, but having her forced back is almost worse - like trying to stuff an angry cat into a too-small carrier.
Through blurry vision, I see Zaiah still stretched between realms, his form flickering dangerously. Ignatius stands beside him, hands pressed to the book, sweat pouring down his face as he struggles to keep the ritual stable.
“We have to finish this,” I rasp, pushing myself up with shaking arms. “But not the way we think. We have to let her go.”
40
ADELAIDE
Despite the chaosraging around me, I force myself to focus. Crimson’s essence churns within me, a vortex of dark energy seeking release. The pain is excruciating, like molten lava flowing through my veins, but I grit my teeth and push through it. We’ve come too far to fail now.
“What do you mean?” Corvus yells, but I ignore him.
“Zaiah!” I shout, my voice is hoarse from screaming. “We need to change the plan. We can’t send her to the NetherRealm!”
Another wave of pain wracks my body. It feels like I’m being torn apart from the inside out. “I need to get her out without destroying everything around us!” I know if I just expel her, everything will go to hell. Not that it’s exactly a picnic right now, but it will be worse.
As I struggle to maintain my focus, the world around me begins to shift. The chaotic battlefield of MistHallow fades away, replaced by a series of vivid, overwhelming visions.
The world is shrouded in darkness. The sky is a roiling mass of black clouds, perpetually churning and flashing with sickly green lightning. The land below is a desolate wasteland, barrenand lifeless. Twisted, blackened trees dot the landscape, their branches reaching up like skeletal fingers clawing at the sky.
At the centre of this nightmarish realm, I see a towering obsidian castle, its spires piercing the turbulent sky, and seated on a throne of shadows, is me. But it’s not really me - it’s a version of myself twisted by Crimson’s influence, a tyrant queen ruling over a realm of eternal night.
This dark Adelaide’s eyes glow with malevolent power, her skin pale and veined with darkness. She wears a crown of twisted black metal, and shadow pets writhe around her like living servants. I watch in horror as she extends a hand, and a group of terrified humans are dragged before her throne.
“Pitiful creatures,” her voice echoes, cold and cruel. “Your resistance is futile. Bow before your queen, or face oblivion.”
The humans tremble, some falling to their knees in terror. But one man stands defiant, his eyes blazing with the last embers of hope.
“We’ll never submit to you, demon!” he cries out.
The dark Adelaide’s lips curl into a cruel smile. “Then you shall serve as an example to others,” she says, her voice dripping with malice.
With a gesture, shadows engulf the man. His screams are cut short as the darkness consumes him, leaving nothing behind. The other humans wail in despair, all hope extinguished.
I recoil from the vision, my heart pounding with fear and revulsion. Is this what I could become if I let the darkness win?
Before I can process what I’ve seen, the vision shifts.
The world is bathed in blinding light. The sky is a perfect, cloudless blue, the sun shining with an almost painful intensity. Pristine white cities stretch as far as the eye can see, their towers gleaming in the eternal daylight.
At first glance, it’s beautiful - a world seemingly without conflict or strife. People walk the streets with serene smiles, their movements graceful and coordinated. But as I look closer, I see the truth behind the façade.
The people move like automatons, their eyes blank and unseeing. There’s no joy in their smiles, no passion in their movements. It’s as if the very essence of what makes them human has been stripped away.
In the centre of the largest city, there is another version of myself. This Adelaide is radiant, her skin glowing with an inner light, her hair a halo of golden strands. She stands on a balcony, addressing a vast crowd below.
“My children,” her voice rings out, impossibly beautiful yet devoid of true emotion. “Rejoice, for we have achieved perfect harmony. No more pain, no more conflict, no more free will to lead you astray.”
The crowd responds with a perfectly synchronised cheer, their faces showing no real excitement or joy. It’s a utopia built on the complete subjugation of the human spirit, a world where light has won at the cost of everything that makes life worth living.
I feel a chill run down my spine. Is this the price of perfect peace? The loss of everything that makes us human?
The scene changes again.
