Ava Morales stood at the precipice of madness, the Shroud of St. Agnes clinging to her like a second skin. The Prague museum lay in ruins, Order agents' bodies dissolving into smoke. Catherine's eyes remained black as coal, her gaze piercing.
"Ava," Catherine whispered, her voice not her own. "The _Liber_ is speaking."
Elian dragged Lucas back, his face cut, gunpowder burns on his shirt. "We need to move. Order's reinforcements—"
Ava's fingers witched. Shadows swirled, writing words in the air: _"They won't find us."_
The alley's darkness deepened, walls bleeding night. Catherine's hand locked around Ava's wrist.
"You're changing," Catherine said, her voice layered with echoes.
Ava's reflection stared back—a girl woven from shadows.
The _Liber_'s pages turned, writing: _"The host is the weapon."_
Elian shoved her toward a black sedan. "Ava, snap out! We're not safe—"
Ava wrote: _"The car is a trap."_
The sedan exploded, flames engulfing it. Lucas cursed, dragging Elian clear. Catherine's grip tightened.
"Ava, stop," Catherine pleaded… or warned.
Ava's vision blurred. The _Liber_'s hunger roared—feed the shadows, consume the world.
Elian pinned her against a wall. "Ava, fight it. You're stronger."
Ava's nails cut palms. Blood dripped, the _Liber_'s pages fluttering.
_"Pain is power,"_ it wrote.
Ava focused—Catherine, Elian, Lucas. Memories cut through the darkness.
She wrote: _"Shadows, retreat."_
The darkness recoiled, leaving them gasping. Catherine stumbled back, her eyes human again.
"What happened?" she whispered.
Elian's face was grim. "Ava's losing control."
The _Liber_'s whisper: _"You're mine… forever."_
Ava's soul felt fractured. She was the _Liber_'s master… or its puppet.
Here's the copy:
*Chapter 13: Shadows Claim*
Ava Morales stood at the precipice of madness, the Shroud of St. Agnes clinging to her like a second skin. The Prague museum lay in ruins, Order agents' bodies dissolving into smoke. Catherine's eyes remained black as coal, her gaze piercing.
"Ava," Catherine whispered, her voice not her own. "The _Liber_ is speaking."
Elian dragged Lucas back, his face cut, gunpowder burns on his shirt. "We need to move. Order's reinforcements—"
Ava's fingers witched. Shadows swirled, writing words in the air: _"They won't find us."_
The alley's darkness deepened, walls bleeding night. Catherine's hand locked around Ava's wrist.
"You're changing," Catherine said, her voice layered with echoes.
Ava's reflection stared back—a girl woven from shadows.
The _Liber_'s pages turned, writing: _"The host is the weapon."_
Elian shoved her toward a black sedan. "Ava, snap out! We're not safe—"
Ava wrote: _"The car is a trap."_
The sedan exploded, flames engulfing it. Lucas cursed, dragging Elian clear. Catherine's grip tightened.
"Ava, stop," Catherine pleaded… or warned.
Ava's vision blurred. The _Liber_'s hunger roared—feed the shadows, consume the world.
Elian pinned her against a wall. "Ava, fight it. You're stronger."
Ava's nails cut palms. Blood dripped, the _Liber_'s pages fluttering.
_"Pain is power,"_ it wrote.
Ava focused—Catherine, Elian, Lucas. Memories cut through the darkness.
She wrote: _"Shadows, retreat."_
The darkness recoiled, leaving them gasping. Catherine stumbled back, her eyes human again.
"What happened?" she whispered.
Elian's face was grim. "Ava's losing control."
The _Liber_'s whisper: _"You're mine… forever."_
Ava's soul felt fractured. She was the _Liber_'s master… or its puppet.