Book 3 - Chapter 10
The chamber shook as the gods stepped forward.
Figures carved from shadow and flame, their forms shifting like smoke caught in a storm. Eyes burned like suns, searing through the gloom, and their voices curled through the air like silk and steel—soft, beautiful, and terrible all at once.
The runes on the walls flared, casting the vault in a harsh glow. For a heartbeat, the darkness recoiled, the supers outside falling silent as if cowed by the presence of something greater. The air thickened, heavy with power, pressing against my chest until every breath felt like drowning.
Jasper moved instinctively, his body a wall between me and the gods, his blade raised though it looked pitiful against their vastness. “Stay back,” he snarled, his voice raw, feral. “You’re not taking her.”
The gods laughed—a sound like shattering glass, beautiful and cruel. “You think you can stop this?” one asked, its voice curling like smoke around my mind. “You think steel and mortal blood can defy eternity?”
Jasper didn’t flinch. “Try me.”
Dr. Kellan stepped forward, his face pale, his hands trembling. “Jasper,” he said, his voice breaking. “You don’t understand. This isn’t a fight you can win.”
“Then explain it,” Jasper snapped, his eyes never leaving the gods. “Explain why they want her.”
Kellan swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “Because of the pact.”
The word hung in the air like a death knell.
“The Broken Pact,” Kellan continued, his voice low, urgent. “Centuries ago, before humans ruled the surface, there was balance. Two realms—ours and theirs—bound by an oath older than time. We would stay in our world, they in theirs. No crossing. No bloodshed. It was peace… fragile, but real.”
“And then?” Jasper’s tone was a blade.
“Then we broke it,” Kellan said, his eyes darkening. “Not all of us. A faction of humans—hungry for power—summoned them. Used their magic. Tried to bind their gods. It worked… for a time. We stole their strength, their secrets. Built empires on their blood.”
My stomach twisted. “What happened?”
“The gods found out,” Kellan whispered. “And they tore the pact apart. The first breach nearly ended humanity. Entire cities burned. Millions died. The earth itself screamed. The gods demanded restitution—a price for our betrayal.”
“What price?” Jasper’s voice was sharp, but I could hear the tremor beneath.
Kellan’s gaze flicked to me, and in that look, I saw the truth he didn’t want to speak. “The pact wasn’t just broken. The government officials tried to talk their way out of the consequences, but the gods were stronger, and so there wasn’t much negotiation,” he said slowly.
The gods moved closer, their forms towering, their voices curling through the chamber like fire and ice. “We gave you a chance,” they said, their words echoing like thunder. “Fourteen days every cycle. Fourteen days to remember what you are. Fourteen days to pay what you owe.”
Jasper’s jaw clenched. “And what do we owe?”
The gods’ laughter was a storm. “Blood,” they said. “Always blood. But not just any blood.”
Their eyes locked on me, burning like suns. “The blood that binds the oath. The blood that broke it.”
My breath hitched, a strangled sound tearing from my throat. “I didn’t do anything,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I didn’t—”
“It doesn’t matter,” the gods said, their voices curling like smoke around my bones. “You are the promise. The living key. The heir of the broken pact.”
Jasper stepped forward, his blade flashing in the harsh light. “You’re not taking her,” he snarled, his voice a roar of defiance. “I don’t care what your damn pact says.”
The gods tilted their heads, their forms shifting like shadows caught in flame. “You would defy eternity for her?” one asked, its voice soft, almost curious.
Jasper’s grip tightened on his sword. “I would burn eternity to ash for her.”
The chamber trembled, the runes pulsing like a dying heartbeat. Outside, the howls rose again—low at first, then sharper, hungrier. The supers were restless, clawing at the walls, their rage a living thing. The gods’ laughter rolled through the vault, beautiful and terrible.
“Then choose,” they said.
The air thickened, pressing against my chest until I could barely breathe. “Choose?” Jasper rasped.
“Her life,” the gods said, their voices curling like silk and steel. “Or your world.”
The words hit like a blade. Jasper froze, his breath ragged, his eyes burning with fury and fear. “What does that mean?”
“Give her to us,” the gods said, their voices echoing like thunder. “And the breach ends. The supers return to their realm. The cycle stops. Humanity survives.”
“And if I don’t?” Jasper’s voice was a snarl.
The gods smiled—a slow, terrible smile that showed too many teeth. “Then the hunt begins. And it will not end until your world is ash.”
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating. Jasper’s breath came in ragged gasps, his blade trembling in his grip. His eyes locked on mine, fierce and unyielding. “I’m not giving you anything,” he said, his voice low, lethal. “Not her. Not ever.”
The gods tilted their heads, their forms shifting like smoke caught in a storm. “Then you choose death,” they said, their voices curling like fire around my bones. “For her. For you. For all.”
Jasper’s jaw tightened, his grip on his sword fierce enough to hurt. “So be it.”
The runes flared—bright, blinding—casting the chamber in a harsh glow. For a heartbeat, the darkness recoiled, the shadows shrinking back. And in that light, I saw it—the truth clawing at the edges of my mind.
This wasn’t a negotiation.
It was a sentence.
The gods moved closer, their forms towering, their voices curling through the air like silk and steel. “You are going to break another pact, a promise that ends with her.”
“We are the same blood, so take me, not her,” Jasper says as he looks defiantly at the gods.
“No, that isn’t how this works,” The gods say.
The runes shattered.
Not dimmed. Not flickered.
Shattered.
The light died, plunging the chamber into darkness so complete it felt like drowning. The air thickened, heavy with power, pressing against my chest until every breath was a battle. Outside, the howls rose—a chorus of hunger and rage that shook the walls.
And in that darkness, a voice curled through the air like smoke.
Miley… come to me…
Jasper’s grip tightened, his breath a ragged snarl. “Over my dead body,” he whispered.
The gods laughed—a sound like shattering glass, beautiful and cruel.
“That,” they said, their voices curling like fire around my bones, “can be arranged.