the breaking of chains

The air inside the farmhouse grew heavier, the very walls seeming to tremble under an unseen force. Anna gripped the edge of the wooden table, her fingers digging into the worn grooves. Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out every rational thought.

She had no time.

Victoria had him. She had Ethan.

And every second that passed pulled him deeper into her grasp.

The child—Hollow King's vessel—stood quietly by the window, gazing out at the vast stretch of land beyond the house. She didn't seem afraid. If anything, she seemed... patient.

Anna turned to her. "Tell me how to stop this. How to sever their connection before it's too late."

The child glanced at her, eyes shimmering with an unnatural silver glow. "You already know how."

Anna's stomach tightened. She did. The knowledge sat heavy in her bones, an inevitability she had tried to ignore.

The soul-binding ritual.

If she completed the binding, Victoria would be locked away in the dark world, unable to return. But the cost…

Ethan would forget her.

Everything.

Their history. Their fights. Their laughter. The nights she'd spent watching over him, protecting him in the shadows. The silent moments where she'd almost let herself believe she could have him.

Gone.

She exhaled sharply, forcing down the lump in her throat. There was no time for sentimentality.

"Tell me the steps," Anna said, voice firm.

The child nodded and moved toward the table. She took a knife from the wooden block and handed it to Anna, her small fingers curling over Anna's larger ones.

"You have to make a choice," she whispered. "Not just for him, but for yourself."

Anna tightened her grip on the blade.

"I already have."

Inside the Palace of Shadows

Ethan stood at the precipice, overlooking the dark city beneath him. Towers of obsidian rose like jagged fangs, piercing the sky. The streets below twisted in endless corridors, paths shifting and realigning as though the world itself breathed.

Beside him, Victoria stood with an air of quiet triumph. The wind tugged at her dark dress, her hair cascading in silken waves down her back. Her fingers laced with his, a silent claim.

"You feel it, don't you?" she murmured, tilting her head slightly.

Ethan swallowed hard. He did.

The tether.

Something deep inside him had snapped—a severed thread, an unraveling memory. He should have been afraid.

But instead…

He felt free.

His past had always weighed on him. The endless search for answers. The uncertainty, the guilt, the doubt.

Now, with Victoria beside him, it was gone.

Clarity.

Purpose.

She turned toward him, eyes luminous with cold fire. "Stay with me, Ethan."

The shadows around them trembled, the very fabric of this world bending to their will.

She lifted her free hand, brushing cool fingers against his jaw. "Let go of the past. Let go of her."

A flicker of something—something distant—shuddered through him. A memory, blurred and hazy, just beyond reach.

A name.

A voice.

Anna.

Pain lashed through his skull. He winced, his grip tightening around Victoria's hand.

She frowned, but quickly masked it with a smile. "She can't reach you here," she whispered. "Not unless you let her."

Ethan's breath hitched. He could feel her. Somewhere, beyond this realm, a tether still remained.

And something inside him resisted.

Victoria's eyes darkened. She saw it.

She cupped his face, her nails pressing just enough to leave ghostly indentations. "Don't let her poison your mind," she murmured. "This is where you belong."

Ethan's heartbeat faltered. He looked down at their joined hands, at the way his skin no longer felt like his own.

Victoria leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "Say it," she whispered. "Tell me where you belong."

His lips parted—

And then the ground shattered.

A violent pulse rippled through the palace, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the blackened stone. The sky above twisted, its inky darkness splitting apart like torn fabric.

Victoria's expression shifted, her fingers tightening around his wrist. "No."

Ethan staggered backward as the air around them burned. A name echoed through the void, cutting through the illusion like a blade through flesh.

"ETHAN!"

His pulse thundered.

He knew that voice.

The palace trembled, its very foundation fracturing.

Victoria's grip turned painful. Her eyes flared with something he'd never seen before—desperation.

She turned toward the source of the disturbance. A fissure had opened in the distance, spilling white-hot light into the darkness.

And standing at the threshold—silhouetted against the searing glow—was Anna.

The Ritual Begins

Anna barely registered the pain as the dagger sliced through her palm. Blood dripped onto the ritual sigil carved into the wooden floorboards, the lines pulsing as they absorbed the offering.

The child stood beside her, eyes unreadable. "You only get one chance."

Anna took a deep breath. The magic was ancient, dangerous. If she hesitated, if she wavered, Victoria would win.

She exhaled, then pressed her bloodied hand to the center of the sigil. The symbols flared to life.

Her voice was steady as she began the incantation.

"Ex anima ad umbram. Ex umbra ad oblivionem. Ligatur corpus. Ligatur memoria. Ligatur fatum."

(From soul to shadow. From shadow to oblivion. Bound be the body. Bound be the memory. Bound be the fate.)

The sigil exploded in golden fire.

Anna gritted her teeth as the power surged through her, searing every nerve ending.

She was reaching him.

She could feel Ethan's presence—far away, lost in the abyss.

"Ethan!" she called.

No response.

The magic pulled, latching onto the remnants of his tether. It wasn't enough.

She needed more.

Anna swallowed hard, then did the only thing left to do.

She called his name the way she had in their past life—the name only she had ever whispered.

"Lioris."

The world shattered.

The Breaking Point

Ethan's entire body seized as the name crashed into him.

A surge of white-hot agony split through his skull.

Memories—real memories—came flooding back.

The first time he had met Anna—not in this life, but in another. The stolen moments beneath blood-red moons. The whispered promises. The night he had died in her arms.

Ethan gasped, staggering backward, eyes wide in shock.

Victoria screamed.

"NO!" Her hands flew to his face, forcing his gaze to hers. "Look at me, Ethan."

But it was too late.

The spell had done its job.

The bond between Ethan and Victoria snapped.

The palace trembled, the shadows around them dissolving.

Victoria's grip faltered. For the first time, real panic flashed in her eyes.

Ethan stumbled back, chest heaving. His gaze met Anna's across the void.

She was waiting. Arms open. A tether of light stretched between them.

Ethan took a breath.

And chose.