Chapter 194 Captured

Chapter 194 Captured
Anya's pov

The Darklord was there, but he wasn't alone. And he wasn't standing of his own volition, Helson had him, or rather, Helson's reconstructed body had him. The consciousness transfer chamber had put him back together, but he was more energy than matter now, his form flickering between solid and translucent, his eyes burning with an intensity that suggested both consciousnesses were present and fully merged.
"Hello, my love," Helson said, with Victor's voice layered beneath it. "I told you I'd come back for you."
"That's not Helson," I said, even though my heart was breaking as I spoke. "That's Victor. Helson is gone."
"Not entirely," the thing wearing Helson's face replied. "He's in here, trapped and screaming. Unable to do anything but watch what I do with his body and his love for you."
He pulled the Darklord closer, and I saw that there was a knife pressed to his throat. Helson's hand, holding a weapon, positioned to kill.
"Let him go," I said.
"Why would I do that?" Helson asked. "He's leverage. He's proof that I'm more than Victor was. More than Helson ever was. I'm both. I'm better."
"You're neither," I said, stepping forward. "You're just a ghost wearing a corpse."
Helson's expression flickered, and for just a moment, I saw pain in his eyes. Real pain that was Helson's pain.
"Anya," Helson gasped, his voice suddenly his own. "I can't... he won't let me... please..."
But then Victor surged forward again, and Helson's expression hardened.
"Enough," Victor snarled through Helson's mouth. "Enough of his weakness. Enough of his love. I'm going to teach you what real power looks like."
He raised his hand, and the soldiers moved forward, seizing my arms.
"No," I struggled, trying to break free. "No, please. Helson, if you're still in there, please—"
"Take her to the facility," Victor commanded. "We have a consciousness transfer chamber that needs a new host. And I think Anya would be perfect."
"You can't," the Darklord snarled, and he moved to attack, but Helson's knife found his shoulder, drawing blood.
"I can do whatever I want," Victor said. "I have Helson's body. I have you, cornered and helpless. This is what victory looks like."
The soldiers were dragging me away, and I was fighting, screaming, begging.
"Helson!" I screamed. "Helson, please! I know you're in there! Fight him! Please fight him!"
For a moment, the soldiers' grip loosened. For a moment, Helson's body went rigid.
"Anya," he whispered, and it was entirely his voice now. "I love you. I need you to know that. Whatever happens, whatever he does to you. I love you."
"Then fight," I pleaded. "Please fight."
But Victor was already taking control again, already smiling with Helson's face.
"Goodbye, Anya," Helson said, and his voice was split again, barely human. "I'll see you in the transfer chamber. I'll be inside your consciousness as well. I'll make sure you get to experience every second of what we become together."
The soldiers threw me into the back of one of the vehicles. I threw myself at the door, trying to get out, trying to get back to the Darklord, trying to reach Helson before Victor consumed him completely, but the door slammed shut.
Through the small window, I could see the Darklord standing still against the doubly enhanced soldiers holding him, I wondered how they were able to hold such a creature so powerful, still. I could see Helson standing there, watching me being taken away, his face a battlefield between two consciousnesses fighting for control.
And then the vehicle accelerated, and they disappeared from view. I was alone in the darkness of the vehicle, bound and bruised and absolutely terrified.
The vehicle was silent except for the sound of the engine and the rhythmic bumping of the road beneath us.
I was alone in the back, my wrists were bound with restraints that weren't painful but were absolutely unbreakable. The windows were tinted so dark that I couldn't see where we were going, couldn't get any sense of direction or time, and I had no idea how long we'd been driving. Could have been an hour, could have been five, I couldn't tell, because my perception of time had collapsed somewhere between the cliff and the repeater station.
I kept thinking about the moment Helson had told me he loved me. The moment his voice had been entirely his own, entirely present, despite Victor taking control of his consciousness.
That had been real. I knew it had been real, but it was also a goodbye.
I could still see his face as the soldiers pulled me away, I had see the way his eyes had tracked my movement even as Victor was in control. The way he'd seemed to be screaming silently, trapped behind his own eyes, forced to watch as the man he'd become did unforgivable things.
The vehicle turned in one sharp swerve, and I was thrown against the wall. The impact sent pain shooting through my ribs, but I barely felt it. Physical pain seemed insignificant now. Almost quaint, compared to the psychological devastation that was consuming me from the inside out as tqhey were taking me to the consciousness transfer chamber.
Victor was going to put me inside it, and he was going to merge my consciousness with his own. I would cease to exist as a separate being. I would become a part of Victor Dracos—my father, absorbed into his consciousness, forced to experience everything he experienced while being completely unable to control any of it, just like Helson.
Helson was still in there, now I was going to join him in that hell.
I should have been terrified, and I was. But underneath the terror was something else, it was a grief so profound that it made breathing difficult.
Helson had fought so hard to break free from Victor's control. He'd spent months learning to overcome the conditioning, learning to understand his own biology, learning to find small moments of resistance within the prison of his own mind, and in the end, he'd sacrificed himself rather than let Victor use his body to hurt others.
That was the real Helson, the man I'd fallen in love with.
The vehicle came to a stop, and I heard voices outside — guards exchanging information and everything.
The door opened, and sunlight flooded in, nearly blinding me after hours in darkness, then the soldiers emerged, pulling me out of the vehicle. My legs were unsteady from hours of sitting restrained. I stumbled, and they caught me, holding me upright.