The Breaking Point

The night sky stretched out like an endless sea of black, stars scattered across it like diamonds. Anne's fingers curled into the earth, the power inside her growing stronger with each passing moment. But even as the darkness took hold, she could feel the pull of something else—something more human. The tug of guilt, of responsibility, of everything she had ever been taught to fear.

A sound broke through the storm inside her—footsteps crunching in the gravel behind her. She turned, slowly, and there he stood. Lucian. His expression was unreadable, his eyes shadowed with the weight of the past few weeks. He didn't say anything at first, just stood there, watching her, as if unsure of what to say. What could he say?

"Lucian," she whispered, her voice hoarse. It felt strange to say his name again after all that had happened. The walls between them had been built too high, too thick. She didn't know how to tear them down anymore.

Lucian's gaze softened, but there was something dark in it. Something that spoke of pain, regret, and a heart that had already been broken too many times to heal. He stepped forward, but his feet faltered, as though he was afraid to get too close.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he said quietly, his voice heavy with the weight of the words. "And I thought... I thought I could live with that."

Anne's breath hitched in her throat, and she took a step towards him, the fire still burning in her chest. "You didn't leave me, Lucian," she said, her voice shaking. "I pushed you away. I didn't know who I was, or what I could become."

Lucian's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something—anger?—crossing his face. "And now you do? You think embracing this... thing inside you will make everything better?" He shook his head, his voice rising, desperate. "I can't watch you destroy yourself, Anne. You don't have to do this."

Anne's heart thundered in her chest, but the darkness inside her whispered louder now. He doesn't understand. He couldn't understand. How could he, when he had walked away? When he had chosen himself over her?

But she wasn't just Anne anymore. Not entirely. She was something more, something dangerous, and for the first time, it felt right. It felt powerful.

"You're wrong," she said, her voice low and steady. "I'm not destroying myself. I'm becoming who I was always meant to be."

Lucian's face twisted with anguish, his eyes flickering with the ghost of the boy she once knew. The boy who had loved her. But he was gone now, replaced by someone who couldn't bear the weight of what she had become.

"You don't have to do this," he repeated, softer now, his voice thick with emotion. "We can find another way. Together."

Anne shook her head, a bitter smile playing on her lips. "There is no other way, Lucian. Not anymore."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was charged, thick with unspoken words and unshed tears. But then, as if the weight of it all had finally broken something inside him, Lucian took a step back.

"I chose myself," he said quietly. "I chose to save myself, Anne. I thought I could forget what we had. But I can't."

Anne's heart ached at the words, but the darkness inside her didn't let her falter. She couldn't let it.

"Then leave," she whispered, her voice cold. "Leave and never look back."

Lucian didn't answer. He just turned, his back to her, and walked away.

The moon hung high above the battlefield, casting an eerie glow over the scene below. Valtheris watched from the shadows, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. The pieces were falling into place.

Anne's descent had been inevitable. The Celestial Dragons were too distracted by their own plans, and Bela—she was too weak now to stop what was coming. And Lucian's choice had only made things easier.

The final phase of his plan was within reach.

Anne stood in the silence that followed Lucian's departure, her chest heaving with a mix of emotions. The power inside her raged like a storm, demanding to be released. She clenched her fists, letting the fire in her veins burn hotter.

Could she still fight it?

The darkness was there, whispering promises of strength, of freedom. And for a moment, just a moment, Anne wondered if she even wanted to fight it anymore.

But then, the memory of Lucian's face flashed in her mind—the pain in his eyes, the regret. She closed her eyes, shutting out everything but the sound of her own heartbeat.

No. She wasn't going to let this power destroy everything she loved. She wasn't going to give in. Not yet.

But the choice wasn't entirely hers. The darkness inside her had a mind of its own. And it wasn't about to let go.