Maddona

I stand outside the facility. Observing.

The dark stone walls surrounding it are so tall it's as if they fear titans. Centuries , millennia, even _ of wars have chipped at its blocks, but it still stands. Shivering.

A once-young hero awaiting its final war.

The sky is its eyes. storm-dark, never resting, watching the land it has outlived. They weep with thunder and glare with lightning, waiting for the rest of this dying body to crumble into shambles. One last collapse, one final scream. Whatever isn't fast enough will be buried in the fall.

I imagine the screams.

Thousands. Running. Crying. Screeching for help from those who once promised protection. warriors and royals alike. But there is no mercy left. They turn to the forgotten ones, to those they once cast aside with judgment. To the regrets.

But it's too late. Those regrets lie in piles now. dried, crumpled, long dead. A feast so foul even the vultures reject it. And now, the sky provides better. Fresh meat, a rain of flesh and red, staining the soil darker than blood.

A picture worthy of a god's wrath. Cinematic. Painted in cruelty by those who rule.

I jolt.

How long have I been standing in front of the portal? Goddess only knows. The magic pulses against my boots, smoky and circular, alive with reflected light. Red, green, and blue flicker like spirits over its surface.

It's crowded beyond it. I like crowds. No one stares for too long. No one asks questions. You become part of the movement ,noise drowning out recognition. If someone notices you, they forget you two seconds later.

Through the shifting magic, I see her.

Chastity Rosewood.

She steps out of the club's arched entryway _ sleek, bathed in neons and shadows _and sees me instantly. Her smile is sharp, serpentine, seductive. She bows slightly, her lashes fluttering as her eyes lock onto mine.

I smile back and step through the portal.

"how are you doing Rose." I say, giving her outfit a slow once-over.

She's barely dressed. Crimson fabric clings to her golden brown skin, artfully cut, revealing more than it hides. Paired with gold heels and dripping confidence, it's no wonder people mistake her for a succubus.

She smirks. Golden eyes absorbing all surrounding colors like hungry fire.

Only three years ago, her husband tried to have her killed.

I found her in the forest. Tied and badly nailed to a larch tree, bleeding out, chains cutting into bone. She was half-dead. I was starving that night, but somehow in control. I didn't feel sympathy. Her state was pathetic. But goddess, did she have a mouth on her.

What was it she said again?

"I know I'm hot, you don't have to stare so much, honey."

And she was right. She is stunning. One of the most beautiful I've seen. I had to have her.

She proved her worth the moment she could walk again. My little green serpent.

"I'm doing very well, Mistress," she purrs, leading me into the establishment.

The music hits like a fist to the chest. Walls vibrate. Bodies grind. Drinks splash. Voices rise. It's pure chaos.

My kind of place.

We slip past the dancers and noise, deeper into the building until we reach her office. Soundproofed. Scented with incense. She moves confidently behind her desk, gathering files with graceful fingers.

"A drink?" she asks, already reaching for the liquor.

"Yes."

As she pours, she speaks.

"Uteria Palis is burning. The attack started yesterday. More than half the population is gone. Here's the interesting part _ the demons didn't attack first. Just like the others. They only fought back after they were threatened. Its almost suspicious and concerning."

I flip through the file.

"Informants are being smuggled into royal houses. We were right, they've been planting seeds for years. Maybe centuries."

She sips from her glass. "It won't be long before they find what they're looking for."

No. Not long at all.

"So…"

I glance up.

She's smiling again. sly, knowing.

"I heard you're part of the Dominion now. How'd that happen?"

"They have something of mine. I came to retrieve it."

"Is that so?"

Her head tilts. I mirror her unconsciously.

"Yes." I answer.

"And what is this oh-so-secret something you've been chasing? You never did tell me."

Silence.

She holds my gaze. At first, confident. Then unsure. Her smile fades. Slowly.

I watch her from behind my blackened glasses, reading every flicker of emotion.

One minute passes. Then another.

She shifts. Fidgets. Her tongue flicks over her lip. Her eyes move — desk, glass, floor, anything but me.

I feel myself being shove backwards into my mind. Something else taking over, something familiar.

"My, my, Chas…" I murmur. Its my voice but altered. Deeper... Angrier. It sounds almost animalistic.

She inhales sharply.

"It's touching how close you think we are."

My body moves_ slow, deliberate. I rest on her desk, caging her in. I lean down placing my hands beside her head.

"Sharing a bed doesn't make you special, sweetheart. It makes you useful."

She exhales. Her eyes flicker with something... shame? Excitement?

Interesting...

"She only lets you live because you haven't failed your mission yet."

"I haven't," she says quietly.

"Good."

Pulling back.

I push the file toward her. "Update this. Add the last six disappearances in Andorya."

She takes it, nodding. Her fingers tremble as they graze mine.

I straighten. "Have you heard of a boy named Aiden sage?"

She blinks. "From uteria palis?"

"Yes."

Her lips part. She nods, slowly. "Golden-eyed. The prisoned demon kid. "

"Exactly."

"I didn't know he was yours."

"He isn't. But I need him, his heart to be exact."

"Do you want him dead?"

"No. Find him."

A long pause.

"Understood."

I leave before she can ask more.

Outside, the rain has started. Thin and red. The city doesn't notice.

Back through the portal. Back to war.

Tomorrow, I leave with Prince Dreymond.

I wonder if he'll still glare at me like a child who tasted poison and blames the cook.

I smile.

My mind feels heavy. Almost like it's carrying twice it's weight.

Its comforting. Warm. Breathtakingly Painful.