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Chapter 9: Echoes of Fate
The Beast Tide had raged for days, but slowly, the tide broke. The walls held. The army held. Heroes bled, and many fell.
Yet deep in the wilds, far from the eyes of kings and generals, Malik stood alone in a crater. His chest heaved, his white hair slicked with blood and sweat. Around him lay husks of beasts — hundreds — their life and essence consumed, their remains twitching as black veins crumbled to dust.
He should have been exhausted. Instead, he trembled with hunger, his veins blazing violet and black.
Then it came — the whisper.
⚡ Faster.
The world rippled. His surroundings blurred, his heart thundered with impossible rhythm. For a heartbeat, the universe bent. He saw flashes — infinite roads of light, storms of color, echoes of himself running through endless skies.
⚡ The Speed Force calls.
Malik fell to his knees, gasping, as the vision shattered. His aura exploded, lightning carving fissures into the earth. His virus writhed with glee, feeding on the storm, adapting, evolving.
He rose slowly, his voice low and cold.
"…So there's more. Always more."
His violet eyes gleamed with dangerous hunger. "Then I'll take it."
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Far from him, Najima sat cross-legged in the hollow of an abandoned shrine. The ring pulsed on her finger, its whispers coiling into her mind like serpents.
"Faster. Stronger. Deeper," Knull's voice rumbled. "Pain is strength. Bleed until your body screams. Break until your bones crack. I will rebuild you."
Her breath came ragged, her arms trembling as she pushed herself through endless strikes, endless repetition. Blood stained her knuckles, her body bruised and broken.
And always, that voice… patient, sinister.
"You are no shadow. You are my vessel. Train, Najima. For when you are ready, you will not bow to Nabila… she will bow to you."
Her teeth clenched, eyes glistening with fury and tears.
"I'll show them. I'll show them all. I'll never be forgotten again."
The ring pulsed warmly, almost affectionately, as if mocking her resolve.
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Meanwhile, the palace halls glittered with gold and laughter — but beneath the jewels, tension thickened like poison.
The engagement between Dick and Nabila drew near. Invitations had been sent to nobles across the empire, preparations made. The King's decree was iron, his will absolute.
But within the Aderenle estate, cracks widened.
Nabila's mother held her close, whispering comfort in the quiet of her chambers. "You are more than their pawn, my child. Even if the world cages you, I believe in your fire."
Nabila's eyes stung, though her face remained cold.
"I'll endure. Until I can break the chains."
Her father, meanwhile, sat in silence, guilt gnawing at him like worms. He drank heavily, unable to face his daughter, unable to face himself.
And in the palace, Dick sharpened his blade, his aura burning hotter, darker. Each night he trained until his knuckles split, his fury growing.
"When the engagement comes," he hissed, "I'll crush anyone who dares oppose me. Nabila will be mine. Malik will stay dead, even if I must kill him a thousand times."
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In the distance, lightning lit the horizon. A storm was coming.
Malik, unseen, evolved in shadows.
Najima, bound, forged her strength in darkness.
Nabila, trapped, steeled her heart in silence.
Dick, burning, spiraled deeper into obsession.
And above them all, the prophecy loomed.
Chaos rises. Destiny trembles.
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