1.07 – Stained Snow

“Mistral, you must put an end to this.” The wolf-faced hero, Garou, spoke without menace or pleading. His words were a simple declaration of inevitability.

Mistral sighed and shook her head. “I can’t. My creed doesn’t allow it—”

“I know.” Garou interrupted, his tone a mix of exasperation and resolve. “That softness is why I wouldn’t join a cheesy group like the Society of Sentinels. But I swear, one day I’ll convince you to leave their ranks and walk the hunter’s path.”

“You won’t,” Mistral replied firmly, her silver-white hair catching the faint light of the snowy landscape. “Unlike you and the Great Manitou, I have qualms about taking the life of an enemy. The Sentinels share my belief.”

Garou snorted, baring his sharp teeth in frustration. “Your foe doesn’t have such scruples. She’d slit your throat in your sleep—just as soon as she grew bored with her games. Why hold back? Every time you clash with her, the two of you draw closer. My instincts tell me you’re free falling in a tight spiral together. This can only end one way.”

“I respectfully disagree,” Mistral said with a shrug. “I think I’m wearing her down. There’s something deep inside her, a part of her spirit, that doesn’t agree with what she says and does.”

Garou’s claws flexed as he clenched one hand, his voice sharpening. “You’re the mystic between the two of us, and maybe you think you can save her from herself. But mark my words: predators don’t change. She has the scent of your blood, and she hungers.”

Mistral crossed her arms, scoffing. “Everything’s so black and white to you. The Society of Sentinels believes no one is truly irredeemable. That includes her.”

Garou stared at her for a long moment, then turned his back. “You’re naïve. Too tender and young.” He paused, glancing over his shoulder with a softer expression. “But you’re also my ally. My friend. If things don’t go the way you hope, know I’ll be there for you.”

Without another word, he dropped to all fours and bounded away through the snow, disappearing into the white drifts.

Mistral stood motionless, her cloak and hood catching flecks of pure snow. Her silver-white hair, alive with the faintest aura, seemed to hum with her conviction. She gripped the football-sized medicine satchel at her hip, a sacred symbol of healing and balance imbued with the wisdom of her people and the Great Manitou.

“I’d lay my life on the line,” she murmured to the empty landscape, “to prove that even a soul as lost as Black Angel’s can be brought to serve a greater good.”

“You have improved your art, my nemesis.” Black Angel’s voice dripped with disdain, yet her piercing gaze lingered on Mistral, as if appraising a particularly exquisite but foolish creation.

Mistral hovered in the air, buoyed by her command of the spirits of the wind, her expression frozen in a mix of shock and controlled determination. Black Angel’s scrutiny was unnerving, her dark eyes unrelenting as they roved over her enemy’s form.

The villainess radiated a chilling confidence, her ebony-feathered wings spreading wide, lazily flapping as if to punctuate her superiority. She was a creature of grace and menace, each powerful beat of her wings stirring the air with an unsettling quiet.

“You’re bold to face me like this,” Black Angel continued, her arms crossing beneath her chest, drawing attention to the deliberate design of her dress. The dark material clung to her lithe form as if molded by the void itself, shimmering faintly with an unnatural, otherworldly sheen. It was a garment that transcended mere fabric, alive with the echoes of her power. A slit revealed one long, toned leg sheathed in elegant, sheer stockings that accentuated her midnight skin, as though the universe itself bent to highlight her every perfection.

Mistral didn’t respond, her lips tightening into a resolute line. She had faced Black Angel before, but the villainess’s presence was no less overwhelming than the first time.

Black Angel’s finger tapped idly against her upper arm, an infuriatingly casual gesture that only underscored her air of superiority. Her face, as striking as a sculptor’s masterpiece, was framed by the slightest hint of a smirk—an expression that seemed to mock the very idea of resistance. It wasn’t just beauty that enraptured; it was her aura of power, of inevitability, that seemed to make the very air tremble.

“You stand before me, so fragile and soft,” Black Angel mused, her voice silken yet cutting. “A delicate creature playing with forces she barely understands. Tell me, Mistral, is it bravery or naivety that brings you here?” Her smirk deepened, a dark satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “No matter. Either way, you will break before me in the end.”

Mistral held her ground, her silver-white hair flowing in the wind as though the spirits themselves wove life into its strands. Her hands clenched, her medicine satchel at her hip swaying slightly with her movements. She refused to rise to the taunt, even as Black Angel’s words seemed to press against her like a tangible force.

Black Angel’s wings shifted, her body language effortlessly commanding. The world below seemed to pale in her presence, the sky itself dimming in deference. Her power, her beauty, her boundless confidence—they made her something other, something far beyond the mortal plane.

It wasn’t beauty that she valued most, though she knew the universe adored her for her visage. It was her strength—strength that made nations tremble and men cower, strength that gave her dominion over all she deemed worthy of her attention.

To her, Mistral was an anomaly. A gnat with powers impressive enough to warrant curiosity but not fear. A mere delay in her path to supremacy. Still, there was something about this weather sorceress that held her attention, something that sparked her interest even as she plotted her eventual victory.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you, Mistral?” Black Angel tilted her head, her tone dripping with mockery. “Potential wasted on sentimentality. A soul tethered by foolish ideals, incapable of embracing what you could become.”

Mistral’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing, her silence more defiant than words.

Black Angel’s wings flexed, and she let out a low, amused chuckle. “Very well. Play the part of the noble heroine. Cling to your quaint notions of redemption. It will make your fall all the more satisfying.”

Her gaze lingered a moment longer, as if savoring the confrontation, before she tilted her head back and let out a deep, mocking laugh. The sound echoed across the sky like a harbinger of doom, a promise of what was to come.

Mistral let out a sharp sigh and rolled her eyes after a beat of silence. “Thank you, I suppose. But I don’t have any use for your patronizing comments.”

Black Angel’s lips curved into a faint smile, a glint of amusement in her gaze. “Don’t be so cold, Mistral. Your cautious nature bores me. Show me some fire for once.”

“Are you serious about this offer?” Mistral’s eyes narrowed, her tone edged with skepticism.

“Entirely.” Black Angel tilted her head slightly, her tone almost teasing as she continued, “Let this be our last battle. The victor takes the loser, to do with as they will. If you should win today, I’ll consider your words.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, her expression calm, yet taunting.

“And how exactly do I know you’ll keep your word?” Mistral asked, crossing her arms, her lips pressed in a firm line.

“You don’t.” Black Angel’s dark smile deepened as she met her rival’s piercing gaze. “Surely, you understand by now that nothing in life is certain—least of all the word of a so-called villain.”

Mistral’s jaw tightened. “Are you trying to convince me or dissuade me? Your offer loses all sincerity the moment you admit you’re untrustworthy.”

“You wound me,” Black Angel said smoothly, her voice heavy with mock reproach. “I mean every word I say.” Her eyes darkened as her expression shifted into something more dangerous, a smile that hinted at a predator’s hunger. “But we’ve had enough words. Test my sincerity by my actions.”

With that, she spread her arms wide, the ebony feathers of her wings catching the light like shards of night. Her fingers arched, and the faint ripple of power stirred the air around her. “But don’t misunderstand me,” she added, her voice low and full of menace. “I have no intention of losing to you today.”

The air crackled as she surged forward, her wings beating once, a thunderous prelude to the battle to come.

The two shot skyward together, Mistral propelled by a mighty gust of wind summoned through her powers, and Black Angel by the rhythmic, powerful strokes of her obsidian wings. They ascended quickly, becoming little more than dark and light streaks against the pale sky.

When they reached an altitude that felt right—too high for interruptions, too far from the world below—they stopped, hovering like celestial warriors. Both knew what came next.

Mistral extended her hand, her fingers weaving through the air. Snowflakes began to swirl down from the clouds at her command, gaining speed and direction as they rushed toward Black Angel. In response, her nemesis lifted both hands. A wave of dense, inky darkness surged outward, meeting the flurry of snow mid-air. The snowflakes darkened on impact, shimmering briefly as they grew unnaturally cold, their very essence altered.

Black Angel’s lips curled into a sly smile. “You shouldn’t face me head-on like this, power against power. It never ends well for you.” Her voice carried a calm, taunting confidence as the darkness pressed harder against the snowstorm, forcing it to falter.

Mistral’s voice was steady, her gaze unwavering. “Don’t dismiss me so easily, Black Angel.” Her arms moved in fluid, deliberate gestures, and the snowflakes began to coalesce. Their numbers increased rapidly, forming solid blocks of ice mid-air. Below, an icy spire grew from the ground, supporting her efforts as her creation expanded upwards.

Black Angel arched an eyebrow, watching as the lattice of ice formed around her. “Interesting,” she mused, her tone light, almost amused. “You’ve been keeping this little ice-sculpting trick to yourself. Did you create it just to impress me?”

A faint blush crept into Mistral’s cheeks, and her glare sharpened. “The hell I would!”

Black Angel laughed, a rich, mocking sound. “Oh, my dear, you wound me.” She lifted a hand lazily, and a singularity began to form beneath her, tendrils of void energy spiraling outward. “Let’s see how your pretty little birdcage fares against the force of a black hole, shall we?”

The lattice groaned as it was drawn inward, chunks of ice splintering as they were devoured by the singularity’s pull. But Mistral’s voice rose in a soft, commanding whisper. The ice blocks began to multiply and shift, the lattice breaking apart by design.

Black Angel’s eyes narrowed, her laughter fading as she glanced around. It was almost too late when she realized the trap. Behind the shimmering lattice, Mistral had concealed enormous glaciers, their bulky forms carefully arranged to appear invisible through the gaps in the ice. Now, released from their camouflage, they hurtled inward with crushing force.

For a moment, Black Angel marveled at the intricacy of Mistral’s deception, her lips curving into a grudging smirk. “Clever.”

The air shook with the impact as massive chunks of ice closed in. Black Angel acted in a blink, snapping her fingers to dissipate the singularity, then unleashing waves of void energy in jagged, spiked formations to counter the incoming attack. The first layers of ice shattered, glittering fragments scattering in all directions. But the remaining blocks were too numerous, too heavy.

The final fragments formed a perfect sphere, trapping Black Angel in its unyielding embrace. The crack of the ice solidifying rang through the air, reverberating like a victory bell.

Then everything went silent.

The sphere of ice began to glow faintly, its surface shimmering with frost. But as quickly as Mistral could summon her triumph, it was consumed by the encroaching blackness. The void spread outward from within, devouring light and sound alike until only an inky abyss remained.

Mistral stood still in the suffocating darkness, her serene smile unwavering. She felt the familiar, subtle prickle of void energy brushing against her skin, as though testing her resolve. It was a sensation she’d come to expect.

Garou’s warnings echoed in her mind: This is far too good to be true. He wasn’t wrong. Black Angel had an unnerving habit of stopping short when she had the chance to claim victory, as if she enjoyed dragging these conflicts out for some hidden reason. Mistral’s instincts told her that whatever plan her enemy was weaving, it wasn’t ready yet.

Her gut also told her this wasn’t their last battle—not yet.

Drawing a deep breath, Mistral whispered to herself, her words barely audible over the oppressive silence. She would let Black Angel make her move first. Her confidence was not a bluff, though she couldn’t be certain her strategy would work as intended. She had prepared a backup, and a backup for that backup, but against Black Angel, nothing was ever guaranteed.

When the attack came, it was surprisingly direct. Black Angel didn’t strike from the shadows or appear behind her as she often did. Instead, she materialized right in front of Mistral, their faces mere inches apart, her dark eyes gleaming with intent.

Mistral completed her chant, pressing her hands together as the energy she had meticulously stored erupted in a searing lightning bolt. The bolt shot forward with precision, slamming through Black Angel’s form. Yet, instead of a pained reaction, the villain simply smiled—and vanished. Mistral’s eyes widened in astonishment. How is she always this fast?

The thought had barely formed when Mistral sensed another flicker of movement closing in from an unexpected angle. With practiced reflexes, she turned slightly and unleashed another burst of energy. Again, her lightning struck true—or so it seemed. Black Angel’s face appeared briefly, her expression now openly mocking, before vanishing once more.

Mistral’s brow furrowed. What at first appeared to be a direct assault was quickly revealed as yet another ploy. Black Angel’s movements became erratic, her form darting in and out of the periphery like a ghost. For every shadowy mirage destroyed, another two appeared, surrounding Mistral in an endless, taunting dance.

“Come now, is that all?” Black Angel’s voice echoed from every direction, each syllable laced with musical derision. “Surely you’ve faced me enough times to know better than this.”

Gritting her teeth, Mistral hurled bolt after bolt, her mystical reserves depleting with every strike. With each futile attack, Black Angel’s laughter rose in pitch, a cacophony of mockery that filled the inky void. The sound grated against Mistral’s focus, chipping away at her composure.

“Ahhhhhhhh!” Mistral’s frustration erupted into a primal scream. She thrust her hands skyward, calling upon the storm clouds above. They roared in response, their energies twisting under her command. Lightning crackled and danced, not as a singular bolt but as a web of energy cast across the battlefield—a shotgun blast of elemental fury.

The lightning streaked through the darkness, carving jagged paths of light. For a moment, it seemed the entire sky had become her weapon. But the nemesis’ voice remained unshaken.

“So charming… and so utterly blind,” Black Angel cooed from directly above. Her wings spread wide, silhouetted against the storm’s chaotic light. “Drain yourself dry for me, little sorceress. You’re doing wonderfully.”

Mistral snarled, pulling energy inward once more. This time, she focused her attack into a concentrated stream of plasma, firing it directly toward the source of the voice. The bolt screamed upward in a conical spray, leaving no room for escape.

But the villain’s mocking laughter continued unabated, now echoing from far above. “Ahahahahaha! My dear, you’ll have to do better than that.”

Mistral’s frustration burned within her, but she kept her expression calm. Her storm raged around her, the winds howling in protest as Black Angel descended with terrifying speed, her void energy wrapping her like a second skin.

Before Mistral could react, Black Angel closed the gap, her void energy surging forward like an oppressive tidal wave. It slammed into Mistral, seeping into her body, draining her strength. The sorceress gasped, her vision blurring as the darkness overwhelmed her senses.

“You’ve entertained me well,” Black Angel purred, her voice low and triumphant. She reached out, wrapping an arm around Mistral’s neck to hold her aloft. Their gazes met, and Mistral felt a flicker of anger flare within her hazy mind.

Black Angel leaned in close, her lips brushing against Mistral’s ear. “You’ve grown sloppy, my nemesis. Stronger, yes—but your finesse, your strategy? Utterly atrophied.” Her voice softened, taking on an almost intimate tone. “Still, you’re… enchanting, in your own way.”

With a predatory grin, Black Angel closed the distance, her lips meeting Mistral’s in a firm, possessive kiss. The gesture was both a mockery and a claim, punctuated by the villain’s languid tongue grazing Mistral’s lower lip before she pulled back, licking her own lips with satisfaction.

But the moment of triumph was shattered by a low, distant rumble. Mistral’s eyes fluttered open, a flicker of consciousness returning as the sound grew louder. Her lips curved into a weak but defiant smile, a spark of confidence igniting in her expression.

Black Angel froze, her gaze narrowing. “What’s this?” she hissed, gripping Mistral’s face and forcing her to meet her eyes. “You’ve broken my spell already? Impressive. But your attention…” She waggled a finger, touching Mistral’s nose. “...is wandering. How clumsy of you. Never take your eyes off an enemy.”

Mistral said nothing, forcing her trembling body into motion. Her silence, paired with her unsettling smile, sent a flicker of unease through Black Angel. The villain frowned, her focus briefly shifting inward as if considering the situation more deeply.

“That look in your eyes…” Black Angel murmured, her voice darker now. “It’s suspicious. I don’t like this at all.”

Mistral’s voice finally returned, low but steady. “The feeling is mutual.” She slapped Black Angel’s hand away, her movements jerky but deliberate. “And while we’re on the subject… I really don’t like the way you look at me.”

The villain’s hand twitched, her fury evident. With a growl, she seized Mistral again, this time wrapping her fingers tightly around her throat. “You wound me yet again, pretty one,” she said with a venomous smile. “But I don’t believe you mean those words.” Her tongue darted out, licking her lips with unnerving hunger.

Before she could say more, a feral snarl ripped through the air. Black Angel barely had time to react before Garou, impossibly airborne, slammed into her with the force of a comet. His jaws found her shoulder, sinking in deep, and blood poured in bright rivulets down her elegant dress.

“How?!” Black Angel shrieked, thrashing as Garou clung to her like a vise. Her wings beat furiously, struggling to keep them aloft under the added weight.

As her strength waned, the darkness surrounding the battlefield began to recede, revealing the icy spire Mistral had constructed earlier. Forgotten in the chaos, it now loomed as a reminder of the sorceress’ careful planning.

Clutching her chest, Mistral floated back, regaining her composure as Black Angel’s wings faltered. Below, Garou growled, his teeth still locked in place, while Black Angel’s blood stained the cold, unforgiving air.

Mistral let out a dry chuckle, though it was followed by a pained cough. She clutched her chest but kept her defiant gaze fixed on Black Angel. "A ploy, as you’d say," she rasped, her voice tinged with triumph. She gestured weakly toward the towering spire of ice behind her. "A shining road spearing into the skies… with only one true purpose the whole time. Giving Garou a way to reach you."

Black Angel’s wild eyes darted toward the spire, realization dawning too late. Her incredulous expression twisted into fury. "D-Damn it!" she roared, her voice cracking with a mix of anger and disbelief.

Garou’s fangs sank deeper into Black Angel’s shoulder, drawing a fresh stream of crimson that stained her immaculate dress. His claws raked against her as he held on with unrelenting ferocity. Black Angel thrashed violently, her wings a blur of motion as she tried to shake him off, but the werebeast’s vice-like grip refused to yield.

"You underestimated us again," Mistral said, her voice growing steadier as she drew upon her remaining strength. Her fingers glowed faintly, the remnants of her mystical energy swirling around her hands. "You always think you’re untouchable… but even you can bleed."

Mistral crouched by a fire pit, her expression calm yet unreadable. Glowing coals cast flickering light across her face as she banked them with measured movements. With a soft sigh, she tossed another chunk of wood onto the flames, the crackle of burning kindling briefly filling the air.

Behind her, a groan broke the silence. Black Angel stirred, her eyes fluttering open. As her vision cleared, she found herself bound tightly, her wings pinned, her movements restricted. Her gaze met Mistral’s, and an ironic smile curved her lips.

"Hahahahahaha—!" Black Angel’s laugh cut through the stillness, sharp and mocking. "Off to prison again, I suppose. Time to reset the cycle, isn’t it?" She leaned her head back against the wall behind her, her eyes narrowing as she tested her bonds with a deliberate thrash. "That ice tower... an unexpected strategy. I admit, you caught me off guard. That furball showing up a thousand feet in the air? Inspired. Where’s he hiding now?"

Mistral straightened, brushing her hands clean of soot. She walked slowly toward her captive, her boots crunching against the cold ground. "To answer your first question," she said evenly, "I suppose it may come to that again. I’ve no illusions about you keeping your word. And as for Garou—" She tilted her head, her voice softening with a hint of finality. "He won’t be around to interrupt us again today."

Black Angel’s smirk faltered for a split second before returning, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. "You think you’ve won something meaningful here, don’t you? My dear, this is just a moment. A fleeting pause in our game."

Mistral stopped a few feet away, crossing her arms as she regarded the villainess. Her face remained impassive, though her tone held an edge. "You keep calling this a ‘game,’ as if the lives you destroy are just pawns on a board. Maybe you’re right about the cycle. Maybe it’s always been this way. But not this time." She glanced toward the fire, its light casting ominous shadows against the cavern walls. "Something will change. I’ll make sure of it."

Black Angel laughed again, softer this time, almost indulgent. "Ah, such conviction. It’s adorable, really. But you should know by now, Mistral—there’s no breaking this loop. You’ll try, and you’ll fail. Just like always." She leaned forward as far as her restraints allowed, her dark eyes gleaming with unshaken confidence. "Go ahead. Make your move. Let’s see if you can prove me wrong."

The fire crackled louder, casting an eerie glow between them as Mistral’s eyes hardened, her silence speaking volumes.

Garou’s growl rumbled low in his throat, his golden eyes narrowing as he glanced toward Black Angel’s unconscious form, bound securely near the edge of their camp. The firelight painted his scarred, lupine face with flickering shadows, making him appear as fierce and implacable as the predator he was.

“She’d have had your head by now if it wasn’t for our partnership,” he muttered, not without a hint of reproach.

Mistral sipped her herbal tincture, wincing slightly at its bitter taste. She lowered the cup, her gaze calm yet thoughtful. “I know,” she admitted quietly. “I still have some growing to do. It’s fortunate, then, that I have you to watch my back, my friend.”

Garou harrumphed, nodding grudgingly. “What are you going to do next?”

Mistral stared into the fire, watching the flames dance above the wood as embers glowed faintly in its blackened cracks. She took her time before responding, her voice measured. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Once again, she held back. She taunted me until I felt I couldn’t bear it anymore. I was off-balance, yes—but not so much that I didn’t prepare a backup plan. She could have created her singularity directly on top of me, but she didn’t. I’ve seen her use that technique to crush others without hesitation. Yet, she never unleashes its full power on me.”

“Hmph,” Garou sneered, baring his teeth. “This supposed mote of goodness inside her again?”

Mistral’s hand clenched into a fist as she turned her face toward him. “Yes. I believe in it. She’s steeped in darkness—and yet, there’s something deep down. Something real. If only I could get my fingers on it…”

Garou snorted, shaking his head. “So, you’re going to sweet-talk her again before shipping her off to face man’s law?”

Mistral nodded. “Yes. But for the last time.” She stood, brushing her hands against her cloak, and walked over to Garou’s side. Placing her hands on his muscular, furred arms, she looked up at him earnestly.

“Please believe in me. After this attempt, assuming I fail, I’ll accept it’s impossible. I’ll stop trying to save her. But I need to try, Garou. One last time. Dragonmage taught me a spell to probe another’s mind. If it works, perhaps I’ll understand what I’ve sensed inside her.”

Garou’s tongue flicked over his lips, and he glanced toward Black Angel again, his distrust evident. “I don’t think it’s wise, sinking yourself into her rotten mind. I’ll hunker down nearby, just in case.”

“No.” Mistral’s tone was firm, her resolve unwavering. “I forbid it. She’ll sense your presence.”

Garou rolled his eyes. “Like she sensed me climbing your spire of ice?”

“She had her eyes on her goal,” Mistral countered. “Her ego distracted her. But she’ll be cautious now. Please, Garou, do as I’ve asked. Trust me on this.”

The tension between them was palpable, but Garou finally gave a reluctant grunt of assent, stepping back and folding his powerful arms. “Fine. But you’d better know what you’re doing, Mistral.”

“I hope I do,” she murmured, her eyes drifting back to the unconscious figure by the fire. “For both our sakes.”

Mistral laid her hands over each of Black Angel’s ears, tightly clasping both sides. The villain hissed the moment she felt Mistral’s mind encroach on hers.

"Don’t you dare!" Black Angel snapped, her voice laced with venom. "What you find inside won’t let things go the way you want."

Mistral’s eyes narrowed in determination as she murmured a chant under her breath, her voice low and steady. Black Angel thrashed in her bonds, the effort causing her restraints to creak, but they held fast.

“Stop!” Black Angel’s tone shifted, rising into something more frantic. Her pupils contracted as she felt the foreign presence of Mistral’s mind pushing deeper into her own. "I said don’t!"

Mistral’s breathing slowed, her expression serene even as a fine sheen of sweat formed on her brow. Her magic burrowed further, the surface of Black Angel’s consciousness giving way like a stormy sea parting before a calm, unyielding force.

"You’re making a mistake," Black Angel growled, her voice trembling now with something akin to desperation. "You think you can handle what’s in here? You can’t. Turn back now!"

Still, Mistral did not respond, her focus unbroken. She took a deep breath and leaned closer, her hands glowing faintly as her spell reached its crescendo. Black Angel’s body jerked violently against the magic binding her, her wings fluttering erratically.

“No… NOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Black Angel’s scream tore through the air, reverberating across the camp and into the still night beyond.

When Mistral finally got her bearings, what lay before her was a large shard of void energy, as expected, erected on a sort of platform and exuding a pure sense of evil.

"This is what’s inside her? Powering her? NOOOO!!!"

Suddenly, the shard exploded in a burst of pure light. The flash, intense and blinding, lasted only a fleeting moment before vanishing into the deep darkness once more.

Mistral staggered, her senses reeling. It took her a second to realize the true effect of the explosion: the shard had been vaporized in an instant, leaving no visible remnants behind.

“Isn’t this the core of light I theorized exists inside her? Or is this just a vision? A memory?”

Her thoughts raced as she scanned the space around her. All that remained of the supposed core of darkness was an ominous sensation that seemed to hover and writhe in the ‘air’ around her.

"It didn’t vanish—the darkness is everywhere inside her!"

The void energy, once a concentrated mass, now filled the space around her, growing stronger with every passing moment. The oppressive weight of it pressed down on her, suffocating her mind and spirit. Mistral staggered back, folding in on herself as she raised a desperate defense.

The crushing darkness enveloped her, threatening to overwhelm her completely. Yet, amid the suffocating energy, she sensed a faint trace of something different. A signature, subtle and elusive, floated in the void, just out of reach. It wasn’t the same as the oppressive energy crushing her, but it felt undeniably connected to Black Angel.

"Is there truly no light within her?"

Mistral gritted her teeth, holding her mental defenses as the oppressive energy battered her mind relentlessly. Suddenly, the shard reappeared, reforming before her eyes. Its malevolent aura surged, stronger and more terrifying than before.

Even after the shard re-coalesced, the pressure on her mind didn’t ease. Instead, the darkness hammered at her consciousness in waves, breaking through her barriers and tearing at her psyche.

“Where are you in all this?!” Mistral screamed into the void, her voice cracking with desperation. “WHERE?!”

When Mistral woke, her head was throbbing, and her body felt unnaturally heavy. Her eyes were bleary as she tried to make sense of her surroundings.

She was no longer standing. Instead, her arms and legs were bound tightly. She tugged against the restraints, but they were secure. Her mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened.

Taking a halting, panting breath, she looked around. The floor beneath her was made of hand-laid stone, and the walls matched in their cold, unforgiving design. A small lamp sat nearby, casting a dim glow—just enough for her to fully comprehend her helplessness in that moment.

Mistral swallowed, her throat dry and scratchy as she tried to wet her parched mouth. Her enemy, Black Angel, must have somehow freed herself and whisked her away while she was unconscious. But how? What had happened?

Her mind struggled to clear the fog of confusion as she tried to make sense of her current situation. As she concentrated, fragments of memories began to resurface, slow and fractured.

Her eyes widened. The horrors she'd witnessed inside Black Angel’s mind began to fall into place, each scene more nightmarish than the last. A suffocating void, a shard of pure darkness—was that truly the core of the villain's power? What was it? The chilling sensation of evil, the crushing pressure, the glimpses of something deeply wrong… What was that brief burst of light?

Her breath hitched as she slowly recalled the raw emotion, the desperation, and the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that had threatened to consume her.

No... Mistral's thoughts flitted back to those flashes—the horrors, the whispers of a darkness so deep it seemed to have no end. The realization made her stomach turn.

Black Angel hadn’t just been powerful. There was something far more dangerous buried deep inside her. Something beyond comprehension. Mistral’s eyes darted around, panic rising as the memories hit harder.

Had she truly been so close to losing herself?