Chapter 29: The Eye of Chaos (His POV)
I stood, gasping, trembling, chaos bleeding from every pore. The Citadel buckled around me. Pillars rippled like water, marble warped into molten glass. I lifted my hand and screamed. The throne detonated in a cyclone of raw, prismatic magic. Shards of divine metal rained like knives. The palace collapsed. The roof groaned, caved with a roar. Statues shattered. Fire licked up from the cracks in the stone, the mouth of hell yawning wide. I, at the center of it all, stood untouched. Chest heaving. Eyes blazing. Hands dripping blood that was not mine.
"I will find you," I whispered. Cold. Vicious. "I will unmake you." The chaos around me pulsed, warping light and sound, bending the world to its knees.
"And when I do… there will be no mercy. No honor. No trial. Only me. And pain. And every drop of blood you ever thought sacred."
When it was done, when every banner burned, every altar sundered, every statue reduced to rubble, I stood in a crater where Aerion's pride had once loomed. A ruin. Nothing left. Still no Annie. The space where she should have been still burned behind my eyes. Her name sat in my throat, too heavy to speak. I could feel the heaviness transfer to my realm. Draining it like an open vein, feeding my chaos. Something in my realm went dark.
"You will beg," I whispered to the ashes. "You will scream. You will learn pain redefined."
I turned toward the fractured skyline, blood still dripping from my fists. "And then, Aerion… you will know me."
The words hung hot and sharp. Then silence. But the silence didn't soothe me. It calcified. Not rage now. Not the wild burn of chaos. Something colder. Sharper. Focused. I closed my eyes and began to think. Where would Aerion run after taking her?
Not here. Not to this ruin. He wasn't a fool. He would hide. Scheme. He wouldn't take Annie unless he was certain he could keep her. So who would help him? Who would know?
Not Leyla. Not Yara. Not Maximus or Luxor. No one else shadowed him like… Navir. Of course. The Architect of Order. The Innovator. The observer always lurking at the edges. Aerion's strategist. Brains to his brawn. I curled my lip. Navir would know. Good. Let him. Let him see what happens when chaos stops laughing. I snapped myself from Aerion's blood-stained courtyard and into the heart of Navir's realm. The shift was instant.
Gone was stone and fire. Here, the air hummed with precision. Luminous towers climbed into infinity, impossible geometry stacking into fractal perfection. Floating rings spun data into the sky. Walkways glowed beneath my boots, shifting with each step like lines of code rewriting themselves. Algorithms shimmered in the atmosphere, weaving order into every breath. I didn't care. I stormed forward, bleeding chaos into the circuitry. Automated guardians froze mid-patrol, lenses blinking red. They didn't attack. They could feel what I was. An open wound of power, unstable and wild. No Annie. No Aerion. Only blinking lights. Silence.
"ANNIE!" My voice cracked the crystalline air. "NAVIR!"
Tech-priests turned from their consoles. One, foolishly brave, stepped forward. "Lord Malvor. We… we were not expecting—"
"Where is he?" My growl warped the floor beneath her, the tile fracturing into spirals of impossible pattern. Her data tablet sparked, collapsing into fractal dust. She gasped soundlessly.
"Do not test me. I am not in the mood for ceremony."
Another priest choked, pointing upward. "The tower. Top level. He's in council."
I vanished before the words left his lips. Static and ozone filled the air where I'd stood. The apex of Navir's tower materialized around me. Precision. Symmetry. Perfect lines of glass and obsidian. I strode forward, ready to tear the doors from their hinges, to rip answers from Navir's mind like paper from a scroll. But the chamber wasn't filled with gods. It wasn't a council. It was a machine. The machine turned, too slow, too clean.
Navir's face stared back at me. Bronze skin. Silver clasps pulling back his hair. Circuitry glowing under the surface like constellations in flesh. But the eyes, Wrong. Empty. My lip curled. "Oh no. You built yourself a toy."
Its pupils flared neon blue. "Unauthorized presence. Realm disturbance detected. Initiating defense protocol."
It didn't hesitate. Didn't think. It struck. Bolts of blue starlight shot for my chest. I twisted, shadows flaring at my heels, flipping over a console as the spears exploded behind me in blue fire and fractured code. I landed crouched, conjuring a blade in one hand, a whip of entropy in the other. My smile was blood. "I'm done being polite."
It surged. We collided. Blade met staff. Chaos cracked electricity. Sparks rained like meteors. A console burst into shrapnel. Pillars groaned under the weight of our collision. It was fast. Too fast. Adaptive code adjusting with every move. It caught my whip mid-snap and hurled me into a reinforced wall hard enough to make my ribs scream. I hit. Slid. And laughed. Low. Ragged. Broken. "That all you've got, knockoff?"
It didn't answer. It never would. It dove again, arm morphing into a sparking blade. I twisted gravity on a whim. The floor became a wall. Logic broke. For half a second, its code stuttered. I had enough.
I lashed my whip around its torso, yanked it straight through a column of divine data. The tower groaned as the code fractured into storms of broken light.
It adapted midair. Of course it did. Landed on its feet. Arms reformed into a spinning twin-blade staff, and then it vaulted, like a gymnast, like mockery, and drove both blades into my side. Pain burst white. I slammed into a pillar. The structure cracked and collapsed around me in fire and sparks. Silence.
I pushed out of the rubble, bleeding, feral. My suit shredded, lip split, stomach glowing with an open wound. But my eyes burned. "You hit like a philosophy professor," I muttered, laughing blood into my teeth.
It dove. We met with a thunderclap. Magic versus mechanics. Chaos against calculation. Every strike warped the chamber, walls folding, floors rippling like liquid. I caught it by the throat mid-swing, slammed it down so hard the reinforced crystal floor shattered in three layers. I knelt on its chest, knuckles blazing with chaos.
"Tell. Me. Where. She. Is!"
Each word a punch. It glitched under me. Jerked. Rebooted. Then blasted me off with a pulse of raw energy, sent me rag-dolling across the floor. I rolled, coughing blood.
And grinned. "Oh, you are so much fun."
I reached into the ground. Pulled chaos like thread from a wound in reality. The air screamed as I surged forward, blade in hand, glowing like a dying star. It raised its staff. Too slow. I drove the blade straight through its chest. Sparks burst. Circuits fried. Its mimic face spasmed, blue light stuttering in its eyes.
"Tell me," I hissed.
Nothing. It twitched once. Sparks cascaded down its frame. Then silence. Just a dead toy wearing Navir's face. I froze. No answers. No Annie. I grabbed the husk, slammed it against the wall. Again. And again. My voice cracked with fury. "Don't you die on me, you scrap heap! TELL ME!"
Nothing. It was gone. Something in me broke. I screamed. Chaos tore from me in a wave of force. Consoles exploded. Walls bent inward. Perfect geometry folded like paper, breaking under the weight of my wrath. Pillars collapsed. Screens shattered. Alarms wailed in a language of failing code. I ripped open a wall with my bare hands, sparks and light spilling like blood. Static screamed in my ears. My gold blood spattered across the glowing glass, sizzling. Through the bond, no answer. No Annie.
The doors hissed open. Two priests stumbled in, eyes wide, robes smoking. They froze at the sight of me. One whispered, "It's true. He's lost her."
The other said it out loud. "The girl… she's gone."
My head turned slowly. They backed away. I didn't speak. Didn't need to. I just breathed, ragged, shaking, bleeding. I vanished, leaving only the ruin of Navir's perfection behind.
I went home. No storm carried me. No flair, no chaos. Just a blink, and I was there. The realm was still. Too still. Arbor was silent, hiding in its bones as if even it could sense the weight pressing down on me. The house felt wrong. Too warm. Too waiting.
Her scent lingered in the pillows. Her book sat abandoned mid-chapter, pages bent where she'd left them. I didn't speak. I just walked to the center of the room and dropped to my knees. No magic. No storm. Just me. For the first time in my long, cursed life, I had no answer. Only rage. Only grief. Only the void where she should have been. A moment passed. Then another. I stood like a man drowning. Staggered through the house, opening doors, tearing through shadows, desperate for her ghost. Bathroom. Empty. Dressing room. Her white dress still hung there, the one she wore to Luxor's party. I ran my hands across it, half-expecting warmth. Half-expecting it to breathe and tell me she was close. Nothing. I ripped it down. Drawers. Cupboards. Behind curtains. I snapped my fingers, ripped open every hidden passage Arbor had ever made for me, searching like a lunatic for a version of her I'd somehow missed. Nothing.
Kitchen. Her mug still sat on the counter, cracked from when we fought and laughed. Coffee stained. I touched it like a relic. Garden. Library. Parlor. Every corner where she'd kissed me, mocked me, laughed until she couldn't breathe. Empty. Gone. I ended up back in the bedroom, chest heaving, eyes wild. My knees gave out. I collapsed at the foot of the bed, fingers clawing into the rug as if I could tear reality open. The sobs came. Violent. Animal. The kind that split divinity down the spine. Chaos poured off me in waves, shaking the walls with my grief.
"Annie—"
Her name tore my throat raw. I slammed my fist into the floor. Stone cratered under my hand.
"I should have known. I should have felt it."
I curled in on myself, trembling, breaking with every breath. She was gone. And it was my fault. I had smiled. I had danced. I had kissed someone else. While I laughed, she was taken.
"I left you." The words cracked out of me, venom aimed at myself. "You needed me, and I was gone."
Guilt poisoned me. Heavy. Slow. Certain. I slammed my forehead to the floor. "Stupid. Selfish. Arrogant."
The realm cracked with me. Arbor groaned under the weight of my breaking in pain. "I promised I'd be better. I promised—"
The words collapsed into whispers. Too soft for a god. "You were the best thing that ever happened to me."
Silence. I pressed my face to the floor. Curled my fingers around nothing. "Please. Come back."
The house didn't answer. Her scent was already fading. The lights dimmed. The air thickened. Even Arbor didn't stir. I sobbed. Not like a god. Not like the Lord of Chaos. Like a man who'd lost everything. The sound that ripped from me wasn't a scream. It was something uglier, rawer. Her name fell from my mouth again and again, breaking more each time.
"Annie…"
I dug my nails into the stone until they split. "I'd trade it all," I whispered. "The tricks. The chaos. I'd burn it all for one more second."
No one answered. I rolled to my back, staring at the ceiling through red, stinging eyes. Waiting for the stars to scream with me. Nothing. I saw her everywhere. Her hand curling around a mug. Her laughter mocking my taste in books. The way she had started to believe I could be good. I could have been good. With her. But she was gone. I had let her go. Another sob broke me open. One arm flung over my eyes, the other reaching for nothing. I shattered. Not with thunder. Not with fire. But with silence. The kind that buries gods.
You lost her. You let her go. You were not enough. You never deserved her. You will never be happy.
And just as the grief began to swallow me whole—
There was a knock at the door.