The night air in Londara was thick with the scent of ozone and old magic,something was coming.
Reyna could feel it in her bones.
She and Azrael stood in a shadowed alley outside an abandoned museum downtown, now serving as their temporary base. Inside: relics, magical artifacts, and knowledge the Circle had scrubbed from public history. Outside: death closing in.
"You're bleeding energy."
Azrael's voice was low, but firm. Reyna hadn't even noticed, the Soul Split Ritual had drained more than her vision. Her aura flickered like a dying flame.
"Don't mother me," she snapped, pressing her hand to her temple.
Azrael crossed his arms, face unreadable. "If you burn out now, we lose. You die, and the Circle wins."
She hated that he was right. Hated the flicker of concern in his gaze. Hated the part of her that wanted to believe he cared.
Inside the Museum
The silence inside was thick, books lined the walls, magical artifacts encased in shimmering barriers. Azrael led her to a sealed chamber hidden behind a false wall. It opened with a sigil Reyna barely recognized, an ancient emblem of the Valkirion Order.
"Wait," she said, stepping back. "That's... a resurrection mark."
Azrael nodded. "This isn't just any museum. It used to belong to the Order of Echoes ( Ragan), the only group that ever stood toe-to-toe with the Circle. They were erased. But not before they created something to fight back."
He lifted a black blade from its stand, pulsing with dark light.
"The Voidfang."
It wasn't just a weapon, it was a key. One that could sever soul links, strip a mage of their memory, even destroy reincarnation threads.
Exactly what Reyna needed.
But the blade responded only to those with fractured fates.
It responded to her.
The moment she touched it, her mind exploded with visions, other lives, other deaths. Hers. Over and over.
She screamed, and Azrael caught her before she collapsed.
"You've died before," he whispered. "How many times have they reset you?"
Too many.
The Truth
Azrael led her to a hidden scroll tucked deep in the chamber. Reyna unrolled it slowly, heart pounding.
Project: EVE
Her name was listed among dozens. Subjects. Failures. Rewritten memories.
"You weren't just reincarnated," Azrael said, his voice tight. "You were created. Or at least… they tried to control what you became."
Reyna's knees nearly buckled.
So her rise… her downfall… even her betrayal… might've been part of a script?
No.
Not anymore.
"I'll burn the script," she whispered. "And write my own ending."
Just then, the museum trembled.
Outside, thunder cracked, and with it, dozens of figures in obsidian robes descended from the rooftops.
The Circle had found them.
Reyna raised the Voidfang, its light humming to life in her hand.
Azrael stood at her side.
"No more running?" he asked.
Reyna's lips curled into a cold smile.
"Let them come."