In five corners of the fractured empire, whispers spread like wildfire. The Noir Citadel, suspended between dimensions, was once a myth — a legend only whispered in deathbeds and in diaries of madmen.
Yet now… it called for them.
Ochieng held the envelope in gloved hands. Its paper shimmered with obsidian ink, pulsating like a heart. Nyra stood behind him, unreadable.
"Do we go?" Maggy asked, her voice sharp with anxiety.
Ochieng's eyes narrowed. "We don't have a choice. The Council summoned us."
---
Three nights later, beneath a crimson moon, masked figures arrived through portals, airships, and midnight carriages.
Amari Nightshade, cloaked in red velvet and sapphire dust, her mask a perfect replica of a broken heart.
Zarak Kingston, dressed in obsidian armor, every inch a warlord. His mask shaped like a jagged crown.
Mariel Duarte, draped in moonlight silver, her mask covering only one eye — the other glinting with vengeance.
Jeff, Tielen, Wendy, and Linet arrived silently, representing the hidden powers behind Ochieng.
But the loudest silence was reserved for the entrance of the Council of Seven.
When they appeared, the entire hall went cold.
---
The masquerade was no ordinary party. The chandeliers bled wine. The violins wept forgotten melodies. Dancers twirled, unaware that death stalked their rhythm.
Ochieng moved through the crowd, mask of silver flames hiding his tired eyes.
He met a woman in black, her dress stitched from shadows.
"Care to dance?" she asked.
He took her hand.
She leaned in. "I'm your cousin. You don't remember me, do you? I was thrown into the Slums of Graven when your father took the throne."
"Who are you?" he asked, pulse tightening.
She smiled. "Seraphina Umbra. And I'm here to make you pay for everything."
---
A bell rang. The doors slammed shut.
A deep voice filled the citadel.
> "Let the trial begin."
On the grand platform, The Council stood. The Empty Seat now glowed — and in it sat a woman none recognized. A woman in white robes, face veiled.
Her voice echoed:
> "You have taken powers not meant for mortals, Ochieng. And broken sacred laws. Speak, or be condemned."
Jayden, from the shadows, whispered to Maggy, "She's the real heir. The daughter of the Flame Serpent…"
Nyra stiffened.
Everything… was a trap.
---
Poisoned drinks. Hidden daggers. Secret alliances cracking in the ballroom.
Mariel Duarte stabbed Amari in the thigh.
Tielen slit the throat of a masked man with glowing blue eyes — a spy from the House of Lies.
Seraphina Umbra vanished, laughing, leaving behind a burning sigil.
Jeff stood over Zarak's body, whispering, "Now you'll never touch her again…"
And Ochieng?
He walked toward the throne of judgment. Toward the veiled woman.
He knelt before her.
> "Then let me burn. But I will not beg."
The Council stirred.
The Dove laughed.
> "Then we begin the final game."
---