Malveth stood alone in the Moonlit Sanctum, the highest spire of her shadow citadel.
The wind howled around her like wolves in mourning.
Her crimson eyes narrowed, focused on the horizon—not toward the hero's kingdom, but beyond it.
Toward something ancient.
Something that had just... stirred.
> "He's awake," she whispered. "He's really awake."
A smile tugged at her lips—sharp, crooked, almost painful.
The moment she had waited for, longed for, bled for, had come.
---
Cracks in the Mask
Later that night, her generals found her pacing. Restless. Unblinking.
"My Lady," one said carefully. "We await your command. The border is weak. Shall we march?"
Malveth stopped.
"No. Not yet."
The general flinched. "But why? The hero grows stronger every day—"
"He is not my enemy," she hissed, her aura darkening. "He is... a piece of something else."
She turned to the general, face shadowed by moonlight. "I don't want the world. I want him."
---
Children of the Abyss
Malveth gathered her most loyal soldiers—children she had raised herself, now clad in black armor and wielding forbidden magic.
She addressed them under the blood-red moon.
> "You are not soldiers.
You are my will made flesh.
And when the time comes, you will protect what is mine."
They knelt without question.
One girl, barely thirteen but with a scar across her neck, asked, "Will we meet the one you always dream about?"
Malveth knelt and touched the girl's cheek.
"Yes, little thorn. And when we do… you'll see that love isn't kind. It's eternal."
---
A Forbidden Spell
In her private chamber, Malveth knelt before a dark altar and began crafting a spell—one that shouldn't exist.
> "Soul tethering."
A forbidden rite.
A magic that binds two fates so tightly they cannot exist apart.
> "You were broken from me. I will shatter the world to put us back together."
Her hands bled as she carved ancient glyphs into her skin. Her lips moved in tongues lost to time. Her power surged and cracked the tower walls.
And in that moment, deep in the Tower of Echoes...
The real MC paused.
He felt it—a pull.
And he whispered, half-laughing, half-terrified:
> "So you've started your madness already…"
---
The world would soon know that love, when twisted by power, becomes the most terrifying force of all.