Chapter 9: The Return

Serapha stood before the full-length mirror, her fingertips lightly brushing across her flawless makeup. Matte lipstick, softly smudged eyeshadow, long wavy hair falling gently over her shoulders, and a perfectly tailored beige blazer dress—elegant, sharp, and carrying just the right touch of softness.

She practiced smiling at the mirror, curving her lips into an expression that was neither too warm nor too distant.

"Perfect."

—It had been a long time since she last used that power.

Since leaving Rome, she had decided to live a different life, to fully blend into this world and become an "ordinary person."

So, she learned to speak sweet words.

Learned how to play along at social gatherings with just the right amount of charm, to lower her head at the right moments before men, playing the role of an innocent flower who understood them all.

She learned to post carefully curated selfies on social media, paired with gentle and inspiring captions, earning countless likes and comments like "Babe, you're so beautiful."

She even made a circle of "friends"—those girls who clinked glasses in upscale restaurants, those "besties" who flaunted luxury brands and vacation photos on their social feeds. They chatted about zodiac signs, men, and the latest cosmetic procedures, but they would never know that the woman sitting among them—Serapha—was once a monster who could crush an enemy's throat from afar with her bare hands.

—How ironic.

She had once been a god, a messenger of light, the flame of vengeance.

And now, she was just a "pretty and gentle" urban woman.

Every night when she returned to her apartment and shut the door, her smile would instantly vanish.

The face in the mirror remained flawless, but within those eyes was a lifeless darkness.

She began to suffer from insomnia.

Night after night, lying in bed with her eyes wide open, feeling the repressed power within her churning, roaring like a wild river. Her divine power was blocked, like a polluted stream that could no longer flow pure and free.

And worse—

She began to lose her memory.

Sometimes for a few hours, sometimes for an entire day.

She would suddenly "wake up" in some unfamiliar street, having no recollection of how she got there.

There would be conversation logs in her phone she didn't remember having, new clothes in her wardrobe she had no memory of buying, and social media posts she had no recollection of writing.

—Someone was controlling her.

Or perhaps... something was awakening inside her body.

The erosion of darkness.

It felt like a mass of black energy squirming in her stomach, like some parasitic creature, gnawing away at her sanity bit by bit.

She began to have nightmares.

In the dreams, she stood in a pool of blood, surrounded by countless corpses.

And in her hand, she held a still-beating heart.

"Just a little more," a voice whispered in her ear, "this is your destiny."

She woke up with a gasp, cold sweat soaking her back.

Outside, the nightscape of Shenzhen was still bustling—neon lights flashing, cars weaving through the streets.

With trembling hands, she picked up her phone and opened her social media, staring at the photo she had posted earlier that day—

"Weekend gathering with my girls~ Love you all!"

The picture showed her smiling brightly among her circle of "friends," looking so natural, so radiant.

But in the photo, her eyes were pitch black.

—No whites, only an abyss of darkness.

She stared at the screen, her breath almost stopping.

... Who was she, really?

... Was the "Serapha" of today still the true Serapha?

She slowly lifted her head and looked at the mirror.

The woman in the reflection gave her a strange, eerie smile.