Chapter-45

Chapter: The Queen's Awakening

The Queen of Hearts does not move.

The weight of centuries of corruption, of bargains made in desperation, and of power lost and stolen, holds her like an invisible shroud.

Her eyes—dull, tired, empty—drift toward the obsidian dragon standing at my side. For a fraction of a second, something flickers across her face. Recognition? Fear? Regret?

She exhales—a dry, brittle sound, like autumn leaves crushed underfoot.

"You… you are not like the others," she rasps, her voice a mere whisper against the oppressive silence of the throne room. "They came… seeking power… offering… bargains."

And then—nothing.

Her gaze unfocuses, the tiny spark snuffed out just as quickly as it appeared. The lifelessness returns.

The Mad Hatter shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat. A nervous habit.

"Your Majesty," he tries, his voice uncharacteristically subdued, "this… this is Defaulger Trice. He has helped us. He's… different."

His wild eyes flick to me, watching, waiting. There's hope in them, yes. But also apprehension.

The rabbit, meanwhile, trembles at his feet.

And I?

I step forward.

The dragon remains still at my side, her presence a silent, unwavering force of power and patience.

"Your Majesty," I say, my voice even, controlled. "We understand the Shadow has afflicted you. We are here to break its hold, to restore Wonderland."

A pulse—barely perceptible—ripples through the air.

A tremor in the Queen's fingers.

A flicker in her lifeless form.

She is not fully gone. Not yet.

The throne room holds its breath, the silence heavy, expectant. Somewhere in the distance, the drip… drip… drip of unseen water echoes through the castle's ruined halls.

Then—her gaze shifts.

Her dead eyes find my hands.

And more specifically—

The glittering jewels clutched within them, relics of the ancient dragon's hoard, conduits of Wonderland's life force.

Something shifts in the air.

And at the edges of the room—

The Shadow stirs.

---

The Shadow's Presence

It does not lash out.

Not yet.

But it is here, coiling through the darkened corners of the throne room, watching through the unseen gaps in reality itself.

The Queen's breath is shallow, ragged, her fragile body still caught between what she was and what the Shadow has made her.

The Mad Hatter grips his hat, his fingers white-knuckled against the fabric.

"The Shadow… doesn't want us here," he mutters. "It's waiting. It's… watching."

The rabbit presses closer to his leg, trembling.

The dragon remains still, emerald eyes flickering to the darkness creeping at the edges of the room.

Waiting.

Assessing.

Ready.

But I?

I take another step forward.

And speak.

---

A New Bargain

"They sought power," I say, my voice steady. "They made bargains."

The Queen's gaze does not waver.

"And what did you gain, Your Majesty?"

A pause.

A long silence.

Then, slowly—

Her thin lips part.

"Nothing."

The word escapes like a breath, barely there, but it is real.

The Mad Hatter stiffens. The rabbit's ears twitch. The dragon watches, her expression unreadable.

The Queen blinks slowly, her gaze locked onto the jewels in my hand.

"Nothing," she repeats, softer now, as if tasting the word for the first time in centuries.

Then, the air shifts—

And the Shadow moves.

---

The Shadow Attacks

There is no warning.

No taunting whispers, no slow, creeping descent into chaos.

One moment, the shadows lurk at the edges of the room—

The next, they explode forward, a maelstrom of pure, suffocating corruption.

The Queen lets out a strangled gasp, her frail body jerking as tendrils of darkness latch onto her, wrapping around her limbs, her throat, her very soul.

The Mad Hatter curses, lunging backward.

The rabbit squeaks, darting behind him.

And the dragon?

She erupts into motion.

---

The Battle for the Queen

The first tendril of Shadow lunges toward me—

I catch it mid-air, my grip tight like iron, and rip it apart.

It screams—not in sound, but in feeling, a mental agony that reverberates through the very walls of the castle.

The dragon is already upon them, her body shifting, her claws extending as she cleaves through the darkness with effortless precision.

"Defaulger!" the Mad Hatter shouts, dodging a tendril aimed for his throat. "I told you this was going to happen!"

"I'm aware!" I snap back, turning just in time to slam a palm forward, sending a shockwave of force through the room.

The Shadow convulses, recoiling—but not retreating.

It does not speak.

It does not bargain.

It only fights.

And it is angry.

---

The Final Stand

The Queen is choking—her frail body struggling against the tendrils wrapping around her throat, her fingers twitching, trying to hold onto something unseen.

I see it now.

The Shadow is trying to finish what it started.

To take the last remnants of her will, to turn her into nothing more than a vessel, an empty throne for its own reign to continue.

I will not allow it.

"ENOUGH."

The word is not spoken—it is declared, a command, a force of power woven into reality itself.

The Shadow shrieks, its tendrils recoiling, withering as if burned by the very weight of my defiance.

The Queen gasps, her eyes flying wide.

And then—

She moves.

Her hand rises—weak, trembling, but real—and for the first time, she fights back.

The Shadow reels, its grip loosening—and I strike the final blow.

With a burst of raw power, I sever its hold on her entirely.

The Queen collapses forward—

And the Shadow vanishes.

---

The Queen Returns

The silence is deafening.

The Shadow is gone—for now. The air feels lighter, though the weight of what just transpired lingers like an aftershock.

The Mad Hatter, panting, clutches his hat like a lifeline. "Oh, that was dreadful. Let's never do that again."

The rabbit, still trembling, gives a tiny, exhausted squeak.

The dragon exhales, brushing soot and shadow from her robes with a flick of her wrist. Her emerald eyes flick toward the Queen, now slumped forward in her throne, no longer bound by the dark tendrils that once consumed her.

I step forward, my gaze locked onto hers.

And for the first time, she truly sees me.

Her eyes, once dull and lifeless, now hold something new.

Not fear.

Not despair.

But recognition.

A slow, shuddering breath escapes her lips. She lifts a shaking hand, running her fingers over the tarnished, crooked crown on her head, as though reacquainting herself with its weight.

"I… remember."

The Mad Hatter straightens sharply, his usual manic energy subdued by something dangerously close to hope.

"You do?"

The Queen blinks, as if surprised by her own words.

"Not all," she admits, her voice thin but steady. "But… I remember enough."

Her gaze shifts—slowly, deliberately—to me.

"You."

A pause.

"You are not from Wonderland."

I smirk. "You're very observant for someone who was just possessed by a malevolent force."

The Mad Hatter hisses through his teeth. "Ohh, no, no, no, please don't antagonize the Queen, we just got her back—"

But the Queen does not react in anger.

Instead—she lets out a sound that is so foreign, so unexpected, that it stops everyone cold.

A soft, breathy laugh.

The Mad Hatter nearly collapses.

"She laughed—oh, goodness—that's either a very good thing or the worst thing imaginable!"

The Queen exhales slowly, as if shaking off the last remnants of her former self. She straightens, her movements still frail but regal, her fingers adjusting the crown until it sits properly atop her head.

The room still holds the scars of battle, but she does not seem to notice. Or perhaps, she does not care.

Her focus is on me.

"Tell me," she says, her voice gaining strength, "what does Wonderland look like… through your eyes?"

I consider the question for a moment, then tilt my head slightly.

"It looks… broken."

The Queen studies me, her lips pressing together.

Then, with a slow nod, she rises from her throne.

"Then let us fix it."