Page 66

R.E.E.C.E

C haos. Destruction. Death.

Rain pelts down in sheets over the Colosseum, turning sand to sludge, blood to mud. Crowds that once howled for her blood, now stand frozen, silenced by the impossible.

They came for a flicker of hope—an answer to kill these evil creatures. To witness vengeance, to taste justice with their own eyes, to revel in the monster's demise that once razed our streets and danced in our ashes.

Haze may not have been directly involved in burning their homes, raping their women, killing their men and taking their children. But the sin of one Nightwalker bears down on them all, and Haze is no exception.

I tried to be different. I tried to see them differently. I thought I found my answer in Damien, in his lies, his false promises. I thought I'd learn my lesson, I thought I knew better… but Haze.

I thought there was something more in Haze. Something worth redeeming.

I was wrong. So wrong.

I realise that now, as Luna Imperium falls to her knees—her scream piercing the storm, shattering the brittle silence like glass.

And then, chaos.

The crowd erupts, breaking like a wave on impact. Screams echo over the storm, raw and ragged, as thousands scramble to escape. Bodies push and surge, climbing over one another in blind desperation. Children cry. Creatures fall, trampled beneath the stampede.

But I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

I stand in the eye of the storm, as the world around me fractures.

While the crowd flees in a frenzy, I remain. No, not just me. The Royals, High Lords and Ladies, the Generals. We stand—anchored, or maybe bound, by the sheer force of her presence.

Haze shifts her head slowly, staring at one of the creatures in the Immum, and though the storm howls, I swear— I swear —I hear her breathing. Slow. Measured. Calm.

And she says, low, a command, "Do it."

My knees weaken, as the Oracles’ voices rise, desperate and edged with fear. The rain slicks their robes to their skin, their hands trembling as their faces tilt towards the heavens. Except for one.

Mia.

She's silent. Her wide, terrified eyes watching Haze—no longer praying. As her hands fall, the dome flickers.

"I told you, didn't I?" Her words are chilling, and my hands shake. "You'll die in the dirt, too."

A shadow moves through the dome in the split second it flickers out of existence, and then—blood.

It was only a second, maybe less. But suddenly, Mia's on the floor, her throat cut open as her sister stands over her. Her twin.

"That's right… Bow to your God."

A strangled cry tears out of me, and not just me. Seth, Kyrian and Alissa stand beside me, their bodies frozen, but their emotions spill out.

"N-No…" I hear Seth, his words choked. I can hear his fight to break free, to go to our friend. Our family.

Kyrian takes a step, only one, before he collapses to his knees, his breath ragged and broken. And Alissa… She cries. Silent tears that trace tracks down her cheeks, carving lines of helplessness as she watches the scene unfold.

We all do.

Helpless and frozen. Trapped in a nightmare where we can't move, can't act, can fight back. Just watch.

This is Haze. I know it now.

It's her way of punishing us—forcing us to feel every drop of this agony. Every ounce of terror.

She wants us to hurt. She wants us to break. She wants us to feel powerless in a way that rips the soul apart.

And God, I hate her.

I hate her so fucking much.

The heat of my anger surges, violent and raw, like fire coursing through ice. It doesn't belong here, doesn't belong in a body suffocated by fear and despair.

But it's there—rising, twisting, clawing its way to the surface. I feel it tearing through me, reshaping everything. Changing me into something I thought I buried with my father.

But she's awakened it, and before it can unleash itself, something unnatural happens.

Beneath us, the Colosseum trembles. Its stone bones shifting beneath our feet, groaning like something ancient and half awake. As the sand lifts in slow motion, it curls in the air like the world is exhaling its final breath.

From the very heart of the arena, a being emerges.

Its skeletal fingers breach the ground first—long and black, as if it was dredged up from the core of the Earth itself.

Its fingers claw into the sand with unnatural grace, patient and precise.

Then its head rises, draped in shadows so thick, they seem to drink the moonlight.

The darkness spills over its skull like a shroud, hiding the absence where a face should be.

"W-What is that?" Alissa whispers beside me, her voice trembling in fear while my own grip the cold golden railing before us. The anger I felt rising moments ago is replaced by fear. So much fear, I want to scream. But I can't. I'm frozen.

And I'm not the only one.

Our breaths fog the air, but nothing— no one —moves.

The being fully emerges, a titan wrapped in robes that shift around it like smoke. Where it stands, the sand turns to black ice that crawls along the pit.

My heart pounds in my chest, loud and relentless. The sound echoes in my ears like a war drum, drowning out everything but the soft whisper on the wind—not words. Just fate.

"They have many names." King Kwame speaks, his words low, final— afraid.

"Dark angels never meant to exist in this universe.

There were once seven of them. Absolute beings, born before time and space.

Before Gods and Titans drew their first breaths.

They were Massiah's of fate. The Lords of Finality—"

"A Reaper of Death." King Rayan Akram growls low as we listen. We watch. Unmoving and silent.

Death.

The word plays in my head. Damien once told me he met Death. Told me nothing terrified him more than its presence.

"It wasn't its power," he whispered once. "It was his eyes — the inevitability of death. The only other time I felt so powerless was standing in front of your beloved hero."

Powerless.

The word sits heavy in my chest. Damien always lashed out when he felt it—when he felt less. And most of the time, he turned that rage toward me. Made me the one who was afraid to speak, to breathe wrong. Afraid to exist in my own skin.

I know he didn't lie to me that night he was painting bruises on my skin while I hid Eden in our closet. It wasn't a lie, because it was the only time I heard his voice shake. Stutter.

Nightwalkers do not stutter. Ricci made sure of it in the only way he knew how— pain.

As I'm lost in thought, my eyes shift to Haze.

She stands before the Reaper, unafraid, unaffected, alone.

She wears a simple black dressing gown that falls just above her knees. A garment designed to show the cuts, and bruises and chain marks etched into her skin for the crowd's entertainment. A garment meant to strip her of her dignity.

Her long, pale white hair shifts with the slight breeze as her head tilts back, and she watches the Reaper with a genuine smile across her face.

She looks so relaxed. Standing there… Toe-to-toe with Death and smiling in a way she never did with me. For a moment, she stands a complete contrast to the figure hovering over her. There is a light to her smile, one so blinding it seems to push against the darkness the Reaper commands.

But the smile doesn’t last.

It falls, flickering like a candle caught in the dying breeze. Her limbs tremble as she stiffens. For the briefest moment, I think the reality of what stands before her has finally sunk in. But then I see the gleam in her eyes, and I know it's something else entirely.

Resolve.

Sudden. Fierce. Alive.

It dawns on me then; Haze doesn't want to run. She doesn't even want to fight—so what the hell is that fire in her eyes?

That fire that reminds me of my son. A fire I'm sure he inherited from my—

Perhaps it is the suffocating quiet the Reaper commands with his presence, but when Haze speaks, I hear it clearly. Each word dripping in something I didn't think she possessed— emotion.

"Essy, athi Siiba." The words leave her lips a soft plea, almost like she is begging. I don’t understand a word she spoke, even trying to put the syllables together stabs at my temples. But the meaning doesn’t matter, because a moment later, the Reaper sees Haze.

She stands unmoving, but trembling—trembling to stay.

I see it in the way her boots dig into the sand, the slight wince in her posture, her chin lifting like she is bracing against an invisible wave. As if every part of her is screaming to flee—but her body refuses to move.

The Reaper lifts its scythe.

The motion is too fast to track; one moment it hovers, the next it is inside her.

A scream tears through the silence, primal and raw, so full of pain it cracks whatever fragile stillness holds the world in suspension. The rain that was once motionless begins to fall again in a furious downpour. It soaks me in seconds, stinging like needles against my skin.

But all I can focus on is her, the raw anguish that bursts out of her; it is the kind of pain you bottled up. The kind that is too heavy, it finally explodes.

I can feel the warmth of my tears against the rain, and I don't know why; I don't care about Haze. She ruined whatever friendship we could have had.

She did that. She broke us!

So why— oh, God —why did my heart just shatter? Why does it feel like I'll never heal the damage she just caused with that one, anguished scream?

A sob tears from my lips, raw and broken, as I close my eyes to the scene before me. My hands clenching over the railing, because all I suddenly want to do is hold her. But I can't. I won't.

She's evil, she's selfish, and she doesn't deserve me.

But then—another scream. This one different. Ancient. A sound so wretched, it trembles through the arena. I scream right as a large, gaping crack splits down the Colosseum. I stumble back and almost fall when something— someone —catches me.

A large body encircles mine, turning me away from the destruction and curving his body over my own as the structure around us begins to tremble and fall apart. All I can see are large black boots as I cover the top of my head with my hands.

"Come on!" A voice screams, and it takes me a second to recognise her— Maya Crux. "We'll die here if we don't move!"

I jump as a warm hand lays on my back, and my gaze snaps to the last person I expected to save me—King Rayan Akram.

He's glaring at me, dark eyes narrowed and his jaw tense. My breath catches; staring at him this closely, I can understand the rumours that circulated the base regarding his appearance. He's handsome, in the ruggish, unsuspecting kind of way.

And yet, I know how lethal his hands are.

"You looking for an invitation, sweetheart?" His voice is low, rough around the edges. His eyes narrow, staring into mine with an intensity that chokes the air in my lungs. "Move."

I yelp as he shoves me forward gently, but with enough force to make me stumble. I catch myself, my legs shaking, and turn my focus on getting the hell out of this place.

The others have already gathered around Nerezza Khan, and just as I slip into the magical dome surrounding them, I take one last look at Haze.

It was only meant to be a fleeting glance. One last goodbye.

But what I see…

What's staring back at me…

Stops everything.

Green.

Not the dull green of sickness or envy—but warm, alive… human. Eyes that shimmer like sunlit leaves after rain.

Big, watery, and locked onto mine—and just like that, time stops. The world falls away; the screams, the rain, the collapsing Colosseum. None of it touches me.

All I see—all I feel—are those eyes.

She's looking at me like she knows me. Like she's been waiting for me—and I know that look. I know those eyes.

I know her.

The figure rising from Haze is still—eerily still—but I can't look away. Can't breathe. My breath goes shallow. My heart thrashes in my chest as if trying to reach her before I can, already recognising that part of us.

I take a step—just one—but fingers clasp around my arm, strong and unrelenting.

"W-Wait," I whisper, barely breathing. Desperate.

King Rayan answers, voice low and final, "No."

"Please." My voice is barely a breath, a broken plea that goes unanswered as the world around me begins to blur.

I stretch my hand towards her. Fingers spread wide—like I could catch, keep her here, just a little longer—

But the moment shatters, and those green eyes flicker… and vanish.

Gone.

She's gone.

My best friend. My first love. My sister.