Within the heart of the demon citadel, surrounded by black flame and ancient scripture, Malveth stood at the center of a ritual circle.
Dozens of children knelt around her—her devoted orphans, her army, her family.
The moon bled red above.
And the spell began.
> "From blood to bond, from past to path—
I call the twin, the soul once torn,
Back into my grasp."
She raised her hands, and the entire room pulsed.
A mirror appeared, and inside it—Serian's sleeping form.
---
The Thread Between Souls
A thin line of red light emerged from the mirror, connecting Serian's chest to Malveth's palm.
He flinched in his sleep.
Tossed.
Then muttered a single word:
> "...Why?"
Malveth's heart twisted.
> "Because you were mine.
Before the world split us.
Before he stole our fate."
She poured her own soul into the ritual, her body shaking from the strain.
The cultists gasped—her skin cracked, her blood boiled.
But she didn't stop.
> "He won't take you away."
---
Dangerous Devotion
Suddenly, the red thread began to burn.
The mirror cracked.
Something was fighting back.
Not Serian.
Not the hero.
But the one behind them both.
> "You're not ready to bind him," a voice whispered into Malveth's mind.
"You don't even know who you're tying your soul to."
She collapsed, bleeding.
But smiling.
> "I don't care," she whispered.
"Even if it kills me—I'll make him remember what we were."
---
The Crack in Control
Serian jolted awake across the continent.
The charm around his neck burned hot.
He touched it—and saw her face flash in his mind.
Her real face.
Not the demon mask.
But the girl who once wept beside him.
Before they were torn apart.
Before someone else rewrote their lives.
He clutched his chest, breathing heavy.
> "What's happening to me?"
The answer whispered from the void:
> "You're waking up."
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