Chapter 97 Chapter 97
AMINA
The overcharge was a white-hot scream in my veins. Through the Siphon-link, I was a conduit of stolen godhood, pouring every drop of Magnus’s hijacked power back into Rian. Below, I saw him arch his back as the violet light reconstructed his cells, turning the old man back into the King. But the Goliath was shuddering beneath me, and Magnus wasn't screaming anymore.
He was smiling.
"You think you can win by giving them what they want, Amina?" Magnus’s voice was no longer a roar; it was a whisper that bypassed my ears and coiled around my brain like a cold snake. "They don't want power. They don't want freedom. They want their ghosts back."
Magnus clapped his hands, and the world didn't just change, it dissolved.
The metallic tang of the ship, the green rot of the Siphon, and the ruins of Meridian vanished. In their place was the grand ballroom of the Vale Estate, restored to its pre-war opulence. Crystal chandeliers hung from a ceiling that wasn't broken. The air smelled of expensive bourbon, roasting meats, and a perfume I hadn't smelled in years—lily of the valley.
It was my mother’s scent.
"What is this?" I gasped, but the words felt thick, like I was speaking underwater.
I looked down. I wasn't wearing my torn silk robe or the tactical gear of a rebel. I was in a dress of shimmering violet silk, the fabric cool against my skin. My hands weren't glowing. I looked human.
The ballroom was filled with people. Hundreds of them. And as I looked into the crowd, my heart stopped beating.
Standing by the piano was Finn. He was laughing, his arm draped around a younger, smiling Kira. His throat wasn't torn out. There was no blood on his shirt. He looked at me and raised a glass of champagne.
"Late to your own party, Amina?" he joked, his voice clear and vibrant.
"Finn?" I moved toward him, my mind screaming that this was a lie, but my heart—my stupid, grieving heart—was already reaching out.
It’s a psychic projection, the Sovereign whispered from the back of my mind. It’s a collective hallucination powered by the Siphon’s resonance.
I don't care, the girl answered. He’s right there.
I scanned the room. I saw Jasper talking to a group of Alphas. I saw faces I’d forgotten—friends from the bookstore, wolves from the North Pack who had been vaporized in the first strike. And then, at the far end of the hall, near a set of mahogany doors, I saw her.
Elena. My mother.
She looked healthy. Her eyes were warm brown, not Void-green. She wasn't chained. She wasn't a battery. She was just Mom. She waved at me, her smile the only thing that had ever made me feel safe.
"Mom!" I lunged forward, but a hand caught my arm.
I spun around, ready to strike, but I froze. It was Rian. He looked perfect. The obsidian rot was gone. The white hair was a memory. He was dressed in a black tuxedo, his eyes a soft, natural violet.
"Isn't it beautiful, Amina?" he whispered, his voice dripping with a terrifying peace. "We don't have to fight anymore. Magnus... he gave us back everything we lost."
"Rian, look at me!" I grabbed his lapels, shaking him. "This isn't real! We’re on the ship! The city is dying!"
Rian just smiled, a blank, glassy expression on his face. "Why does that matter? If we stay here, Finn stays alive. Your mother stays alive. The baby... the baby won't have to be a weapon."
I looked around the room, and the horror of it finally hit me. This wasn't just my hallucination. It was everyone's. Through the hive-mind, I could feel the entire city falling into the trap. Thousands of wolves were standing in the ruins of their homes, staring into empty air, hugging ghosts. They were stationary targets. Magnus wasn't just giving them a dream; he was paralyzing their will so the Bone-Cathedrals could finish the harvest.
Magnus appeared on the grand staircase, his tuxedo pristine, his eyes watching me with a predator’s patience. "Break the spell, Amina. I dare you. Tell them their brothers are still dead. Tell your mother she has to go back to the vortex. Be the monster who kills them all a second time."
He’s using their grief as a shield, I realized. If I break the projection, the psychic backlash will feel like a physical execution to every mind connected to the Pulse.
I looked at Finn. He was walking toward me, his hand extended for a dance. "Come on, kid. One song for the old days?"
I looked at his face. I saw the freckles on his nose. I remembered the way he used to tease me about my coffee addiction. If I ended this, Finn would die again. Jasper would die again. My mother would go back to the silver chains.
But if I don't, I thought, looking at the ceiling where the chandeliers were beginning to flicker with a sickly green light, everyone truly alive will be slaughtered.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, the words tasting like poison.
"Amina?" Finn’s smile faltered.
I didn't use the Earth Pulse. I used the Null-Point. I reached into the center of my being, to the cold, hungry vacuum of my child. I didn't push power outward; I pulled the reality inward.
"I'M SORRY!" I screamed.
I triggered a psychic implosion. I didn't just break the illusion; I consumed it.
The ballroom didn't fade; it shattered. I watched the glass in Finn’s hand turn to dust. I watched the life drain from his eyes as he realized he was a ghost. He reached for me, his fingers turning into smoke.
"Amina, please—"
"I have to!" I sobbed.
Around the room, the screaming started. It wasn't just the ghosts; it was the living. In the streets of Meridian, thousands of people felt their loved ones dissolve in their arms. The psychic trauma hit the hive-mind like a tidal wave of agony.
I watched my mother’s face as she began to tear at the seams. She didn't look angry. She just looked sad. "Finish it, little bird," she mouthed as she vanished into a swirl of black ink.
The ballroom was gone. I was back on the deck of the Goliath. The air was freezing, the Siphon was roaring, and the ground was littered with the shivering bodies of the unmade.
Rian was on his knees beside me, clutching his head, blood leaking from his eyes. The overcharge I’d given him had been corrupted by the hallucination. He was alive, he was young, but he was broken.
"You... you killed him," a voice rasped from behind me.
I turned, my vision blurry with tears.
Kira was standing there. She wasn't a ghost. She was the real Kira, but she looked like a walking corpse. Her hair was matted with Void-Rot, her tactical vest was soaked in blood, and her eyes were wide with a madness that made my skin crawl.
She was holding a heavy-duty wolf-killer pistol, the barrel shaking as she pointed it at my face.
"Kira, it wasn't real," I said, my voice trembling. "Magnus was using you. He was using Finn’s memory to—"
"HE WAS THERE!" Kira shrieked, the sound tearing through the wind. "I touched him, Amina! I felt his heart beating! He was back! And you... you took him away again!"
"I had to save the city!"
"What city?" Kira stepped forward, the hammer of the gun clicking back. "Look at it! It’s a fucking graveyard! You and Rian... you gods play with our lives like they’re pieces on a board. You resurrect the King, you kill the Pack, you bring the End of Days... and you expect us to thank you?"
"Kira, put the gun down," Rian managed to growl, trying to stand, but his legs failed him.
"Shut up, Rian!" Kira didn't even look at him. Her eyes were locked on mine. "You’re the Seer. You’re the one who sees the future. Did you see this? Did you see me standing here, wishing I’d let you die in that bookstore?"
I looked at her, and for the first time, I didn't see a friend. I saw the consequence of our power. We had saved their lives, but we had destroyed their souls.
"Do it then," I said, my voice going cold. "If you think my death stops this, then pull the fucking trigger."
"Amina, no!" Rian yelled.
Kira’s finger tightened on the trigger. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated grief. "It’s not just for Finn," she whispered. "It’s for all of us who didn't ask to be part of your prophecy."
Kira didn't fire at my head. She lowered the gun slightly, her eyes flickering to my abdomen.
"The child," she whispered, a horrific realization dawning on her face. "The Null-Point. That’s what he wants, isn't it? That’s why the world is ending."
She looked back at me, her expression shifting from grief to a cold, suicidal resolve. "If there’s no vessel, there’s no Siphon." She pulled the trigger just as a massive explosion from a Bone-Cathedral rocked the ship, throwing us both off balance.
The bullet didn't hit me, it hit the main fuel line of the Goliath’s prow.
The deck beneath us erupted in a pillar of white-hot fire, and as the ship began to tilt toward the earth, I saw Magnus standing on the bridge, laughing.
"The first seal is broken!" he shouted. "The mother bleeds, and the God-Child hungry!"