The city blurred beneath me.

  Rooftop to rooftop, shadow to shadow - each blink tearing through space like ripping fabric. The world folded, snapped, reformed. My boots hit tile for half a heartbeat before I launched again, divine energy burning through my veins like liquid fire.

  The night concealed me. Black cloak, black mask, black sky.

  But my lungs were screaming.

  Each blink cost more than the last. My muscles ached, joints grinding with every landing. Sweat soaked through my shirt beneath the coat, cold against my skin despite the heat coursing through me.

  The cathedral rose in the distance - white stone towers clawing at the smoke-stained sky, stained glass windows dark except for scattered candlelight.

  Mary's window. Third floor. East wing.

  I could see it.

  Almost there.

  One more street. One more-

  I landed on the final rooftop, knees buckling from the impact. Across the street, the cathedral loomed. Mary's window was open, curtains drawn shut, backlit by faint golden light that pulsed like a heartbeat.

  "Shit."

  I tore off my mask, let it clatter to the tiles. The cloak followed, gloves after. Everything but the sword - the hilt cold in my grip, the blade still retracted.

  This is going to be a long shot.

  I measured the distance. Fifty meters. Maybe sixty.

  Too far. Way too far for a clean blink.

  With how exhausted I was already, this would undoubtedly hurt.

  But I had no choice.

  I exhaled once, centering myself, feeling the divine energy coil tighter in my chest.

  Then I pulled.

  Reality screamed.

  The world folded violently, my body dissolving into shadow and reforming mid-air beneath Mary's window. My hand shot out, fingers catching the stone ledge. The impact nearly ripped my arm from its socket - pain exploding through my shoulder as momentum tried to tear me loose.

  I held on.

  Barely.

  Gasping, vision swimming, I hauled myself up with trembling arms and threw myself through the window.

  I hit the floor hard, rolled, came up on one knee - and froze.

  The room was a wreck.

  Furniture overturned. Mirror shattered. Curtains torn. Glass shards floated weightlessly in the air, suspended by strands of shimmering gold that covered every surface like spiderwebs.

  Golden threads pulsed with divine energy, crawling across walls, ceiling, floor - alive, hungry, eldritch.

  And in the center, beside the bed-

  Mary.

  She sat motionless hugging her knees, eyes closed, dress stained crimson at the neck. Blood trickled down her collarbone, pooling beneath her.

  Above her stood the woman.

  Golden hair. Golden eyes. Black wings now, folded against her back like a shroud. She straightened slowly, turning toward me with cool, appraising eyes.

  Her gaze wasn't the warm and maternal eyes she showed Mary.

  They were cold. Distant. Like studying an insect beneath glass.

  Her eyes.

  They were like Mary's - the same golden irises, the same divine radiance. But where Mary's eyes held beautiful, incomplete patterns - runes and sigils that shimmered with potential - this woman's were finished.

  Complete.

  Incomprehensible.

  Eldritch geometries spiraled through her gaze, symbols layered so densely they hurt to perceive. Like staring into something that shouldn't exist, patterns that folded in on themselves infinitely.

  She tilted her head, studying me. Not with arrogance, nor disdain. Merely detached curiosity.

  "State your name," she said. Not a question. A command. Her voice was flat, aristocratic, utterly devoid of warmth.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  I forced myself upright, every muscle protesting. My hand tightened on the hilt.

  "Damian."

  Her expression didn't change. "Ah. The boy Mary mentioned."

  She glanced down at Mary's unconscious form with softer eyes than before, but not by much.

  "Your presence here is unnecessary." Her tone remained neutral, businesslike. "The girl has already made her choice. You may leave."

  I triggered the mechanism on the hilt in my hand.

  The blade unfurled with a sharp hiss, shadows and red threads erupting along its edge. Black coated the steel like oil, while crimson strings wrapped around it in spiraling patterns - pulsing, alive, hungry.

  "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "But I can't do that."

  For the first time, something flickered in her expression.

  Annoyance.

  "How tiresome."

  She raised one hand with practiced precision, and the golden webs began to detach from the walls, floating toward her like trained serpents.

  "I have no intention of killing you," she continued, voice still utterly flat. "The girl would find that... inconvenient. However, that does not preclude correcting your rudeness."

  The webs coiled around her arms, her torso, her wings - forming a shield of web around her.

  I smiled faintly despite the exhaustion.

  Before she could move, I spoke again.

  "You're the Sixth Apostle, aren't you? The Seer of Truth."

  She paused.

  Just for a heartbeat, but enough.

  Her eyes narrowed, and for the first time, something like satisfaction crossed her features - cold, proud, barely perceptible.

  "So. I am still remembered." Her voice carried the faintest edge of approval. "How... gratifying."

  "Yeah," I said. "Remembered as a traitor. Someone who betrayed all of humanity."

  The satisfaction vanished.

  Her expression hardened into something glacial, furious in its restraint.

  "It was anything but that," she said, each word clipped and precise. Venom dripping through aristocratic composure.

  She took a step forward, wings flaring slightly.

  "You understand nothing."

  Then she stopped herself. Straightened. The fury smoothed away behind her mask of cold indifference.

  "But I have no obligation to explain myself to a child."

  The air between us crackled.

  Then we moved.

  She struck first.

  Golden threads lashed out like whips, cutting through the air with a sound like tearing silk. I blinked left - reality folding - reappearing three meters away as the webs shredded the space I'd occupied.

  She didn't pause.

  More threads erupted from the walls, ceiling, floor - a forest of golden strands converging on me from every angle. I blinked again, and again, each fold of space bringing me closer.

  Ten meters.

  Eight.

  Five.

  The webs closed in faster than I could move. One wrapped around my ankle, yanking me before I could blink and slamming me into the floor. Pain exploded through my ribs.

  I twisted, slashing upward. The blade bit through the thread as I rolled free.

  Three meters.

  The whispers started.

  Consume. Devour. Take.

  Voices curling through my skull like smoke, layered over each other, hungry and eager.

  I pushed off the ground, blinking forward.

  One meter.

  The woman's eyes widened - just barely - as I appeared directly in front of her, blade already swinging for her throat.

  She raised her hand.

  A barrier of golden light materialized between us, my sword crashing against it with a sound like shattering glass. The impact reverberated up my arms, but I held firm, pressing forward, shadows writhing along the blade's edge.

  Our faces were inches apart now, so close I could see my own reflection in her golden eyes. Only than, did I realize.

  I was smiling.

  Wide, manic, the divine energy flooding my system, making me feel utterly alive.

  It was addicting, and despite the pain coursing through my body, the last thing I wanted to do was stop.

  The woman studied me, expression unchanged. Cold. Analytical.

  "You lack control," she observed, voice clinical. "And yet... your raw power is considerable for one so young. A duel-pathway user nonetheless. What are your pathways, boy? They carry a familiar scent."

  The whispers grew louder.

  Consume. Devour. Take.

  "Wouldn't know," I breathed, still grinning. "But let's see, shall we?"

  Finally giving in to the voices, I let the shadows loose.

  The black coating my blade didn't just press against her barrier - it crawled onto it. Spreading like infection, devouring the golden light inch by inch, converting divine radiance into writhing darkness.

  The woman's eyes widened.

  True shock broke through her mask.

  "No. This is his-" Her gaze snapped to mine, horror bleeding through. "But he should be-!"

  Now, Charlotte's voice purred in my skull. You're so close. Use my eyes on Mary. Finish this.

  My eyes flared crimson, red threads erupting from my blade and tangling with the woman's golden webs. The shadows consumed faster now, hungry, relentless.

  I pressed forward, blade inching closer to her throat.

  The woman's expression twisted - from shock to pure, undisguised hatred.

  Her composure shattered completely.

  "Abomination," she hissed, voice dripping with disgust.

  Then she moved.

  Her hand shot forward, golden energy condensing into a spear of solid light. It pierced through my guard and slammed into my chest, hurling me backward. I hit the wall hard enough to crack stone, air exploding from my lungs.

  Blood filled my mouth.

  I coughed, spat red onto the floor, then looked up - still grinning.

  My eyes flared brighter, crimson light bleeding from my iris.

  The woman stared, frozen.

  "Charlotte," she whispered, the name laced with venom.

  Then louder, fury and disbelief warring in her voice:

  "She should be dead! Is that why his... That wretched, deceitful-!"

  Now! Charlotte's voice screamed in my mind. Kill her!

  I blinked.

  The world folded - I materialized directly in front of the woman, blade already descending toward her neck.

  She raised both hands, webs condensing into a shield of golden light.

  But the red threads were already there.

  Charlotte's power wrapped around the woman's defenses, holding them in place, freezing them mid-block. The woman's eyes went wide as my blade sliced clean through.

  Her head separated from her shoulders.

  For one heartbeat, time stopped.

  Then her body collapsed, golden light bleeding from the wound. Her severed head hit the floor, rolling once before both body and head began to melt - dissolving into liquid gold that pooled across the stone.

  The golden webs throughout the room shuddered violently, then surged - every strand converging on Mary's motionless form. They poured into her mouth, her eyes, her skin, vanishing beneath the surface like water into sand.

  Mary's eyes snapped open.

  Golden. Radiant. Complete.

  The same incomprehensible patterns I'd seen in the woman's gaze now spiraled through Mary's irises, eldritch geometries layering infinitely inward.

  Quick! Charlotte's voice urged. Use your eyes. Gaze into hers. Do it now!

  I stumbled forward, legs barely holding me upright. My vision swam, exhaustion and divine energy warring in my skull.

  Mary sat up slowly, mechanically, her movements wrong - too fluid, too graceful, like a puppet on invisible strings.

  Her golden eyes found mine.

  Empty. Hollow. Seeing nothing.

  I grabbed her face with both hands, forcing her to look at me.

  "Mary," I gasped. "Look at me!"

  My eyes burned, crimson light flaring as Charlotte's power surged forward.

  Mary's golden eyes met mine.

  Red and gold collided.

  The world screamed-

  And everything went black.

  leave a review if you feel so inclined. I'm always trying to improve as a first time author, and would love to hear your thoughts!