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Chapter 14: Shadows of Dawn
The world did not rest. The beast tide had ended, but rumors, whispers, and conspiracies had only grown louder. In the silence after chaos, storms were being born.
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Malik — The Shadows and the Flame
Training under both Crimson Terror and the Principal had begun to bear fruit. Malik's body pulsed with strength, his reflexes sharpened to unnatural edges, his aura evolving each day.
He stood on a cliff, the night sky splitting with violet arcs of lightning around him, his breath steady, controlled.
Faster, the Speed Force whispered. Deeper.
He no longer stumbled through its currents. Now, he could step into the river of infinity — and return intact. Each time, he saw more: threads of possibility, futures that bled into each other.
But in those futures, one constant remained — the rise of chaos.
That night, in the city's shadows, he met her.
Nabila stood cloaked in black, her violet eyes glinting beneath the moonlight. For a long moment, they said nothing.
"…You're alive," she whispered finally, her cold mask faltering.
Malik's lips curved faintly. "Disappointed?"
She shook her head, voice sharp, but her hands trembled. "You shouldn't have come back. The King will never let you live."
"I don't need his permission," Malik said, stepping closer, his aura brushing hers. "I told you, Nabila. I'll end them all. Starting with him."
Her chest tightened. His eyes were colder now, sharper, but the boy she had once shielded was still there, buried under steel and lightning.
"…Then at least don't walk this path alone," she said softly.
Malik paused, studying her. Then, slowly, he nodded.
The storm had found its first ally.
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Najima — The Rot Deepens
Far away, Najima trained in secret under the watchful whispers of Knull. Her once-bright aura was now shrouded in creeping black, her strikes brutal, unrefined, but devastating.
Each day she gave more of herself. Each day, her reflection in the shrine's mirror grew less familiar.
Her family's scorn echoed in her mind, feeding the shadows. Her humiliation in the arena burned in her heart.
And Knull's voice, patient and cruel, grew louder.
"You see now. Love is weakness. Family is betrayal. Only darkness will crown you."
Najima's lips curled into a broken smile as her blade shattered a stone pillar into dust.
"…Then let the darkness take me."
Her fall was no longer a question. It was a matter of time.
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The Royal Palace — Dawn's Return
The royal banners flew high as the gates opened. A woman strode into the throne hall, her golden armor gleaming, her blade strapped across her back.
Her hair was sunlight, her eyes a calm storm, her presence vast — almost unbearable. She carried herself with a grace that was both noble and lethal.
Fiona. The Knight of Dawn.
The court fell silent as she approached the throne. Even the King, grim and unyielding, allowed the faintest smile.
"My daughter," he said, his voice echoing. "You've returned at last."
Fiona knelt, her voice firm.
"Your will summoned me, Father. Tell me who dares shake the throne, and I will cut them down."
The King's eyes burned with fury.
"Chaos has risen. And it wears the name Malik. My son lies broken, and the Aderenle bloodline is shamed. You will restore our pride."
Fiona's gaze sharpened, and for a moment, the entire hall seemed to dim before her light.
"Then point me to the storm. I will dawn over it."
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