Chapter-25

I let the Hatter's words settle, absorbing their weight, their implications. The air is charged now, thick with the tension of unspoken possibilities. The Shadow does not just consume—it bargains. It whispers, promises, tempts.

And it can be commanded.

A slow, measured smile touches my lips.

"They don't tell you the cost?" I echo, my voice smooth, unwavering. I glance around the warped tea party, at the distorted remnants of Wonderland's former madness. "Then they lack imagination. Everything has a cost, Hatter. The only question is—" I lean in just slightly, my gaze locked onto his hollowed-out eyes, "—who pays the price?"

The Hatter shudders, his grin twitching at the edges, caught between laughter and despair. His fingers claw at the table, nails scraping against porcelain, as if trying to ground himself in something real. "You don't understand," he whispers. "No one commands the Shadow. It wants you to think you can. That's how it wins."

A tremor runs through the ground beneath me. The rabbit whimpers again, barely holding itself together. The shadows pulse, listening.

Watching.

Waiting.

I exhale slowly, feeling the amulet against my chest, the steady thrum of power beneath my fingertips. The Shadow sees me now. It knows my presence. And unlike the others, unlike the Hatter, the Queen, or the Cat—I am not afraid of it.

"Perhaps they weren't strong enough to take control," I muse, tilting my head. "Perhaps they simply lacked the will."

The Hatter lets out a broken laugh, shaking his head violently. "No, no, no, no— you don't take control of the Shadow. It takes you. It twists you, changes you, feeds on you until you're—" He stops suddenly, his breath hitching. He grips the edge of the table as if steadying himself, his body shaking.

Then, almost too softly to hear—

"—until you're something else."

The shadows tighten around us. The air shifts.

I straighten.

"Then it should be very careful, Hatter." My voice is quiet, but the weight behind it is undeniable. "Because I don't break. I remake."

The tea party is silent. The Hatter stares at me, something new flickering in his gaze—not just madness, not just fear. Curiosity.

The rabbit barely breathes.

The shadows ripple once more, darker than before, deeper. I can feel them pressing at the edges of my mind now, testing, prodding.

They are wondering, calculating.

And I let them.

Because I already know how this ends.

I do not bow to the Shadow.

It bows to me.