Thoughts never truly fall silent.
No matter how hard I tried to shut them out, the question kept hammering at the back of my mind: What could be happening with Chloé and the others? Had they found the box? Had they unlocked it with the key? Was everything okay with them? Anxiety wrapped around my chest like an invisible grip, and as I walked the patrol routes in the palace gardens, I did my best to push away the unease. The teams were doing their job well; everything was in place. But my thoughts kept wandering.
Eventually, I stepped inside the palace, and there they were, waiting in the foyer. The two women.
One of them smiled gracefully, radiating that usual, inexplicable calm, as if she could quiet storms with a mere glance. The other, however… she shimmered, her dress gleaming, but not with warmth or kindness. It was the cold, polished gleam of a hard surface.
Dahlia.
"Is everything alright outside, dear?" The gentle woman's voice was soft.
"Yes, ma'am." I gave a slight bow. "I checked everything. The teams are doing their job well."
"Thank you." Her voice was sincere, grateful.
Dahlia, however, cut through the silence.
"Alright then." Her voice rang metallic. "Go upstairs and tell the General it's time to come down. The main guests could arrive any moment now."
I looked up at her. "And the ruler?"
The question seemed to irritate her.
"What about him?"
"I should call him down too, correct? After all… he has to receive the guests as well."
Dahlia's gaze was razor-sharp.
"If I had summoned him, I would have mentioned him in my first sentence. No. The ruler has no time for such matters." She straightened. "And neither should you waste your time asking such questions. Do as you're told."
The kind woman intervened gently.
"Dahlia… please…"
"I just want him to do his job, sister."
I knew I shouldn't ask further questions. I nodded slightly and forced a strained smile.
"With your permission, I'll go now."
I turned away and ascended the grand staircase.
Stopping at the General's door, I knocked twice.
"Excuse me, sir. You need to come down. The guests are waiting."
Silence.
I knocked again. "Sir?"
According to protocol, if there was no response after three calls, I was permitted to enter. Anything could have happened inside. So I did. The door was unlocked, and I stepped in easily.
The room… was unchanged. The flickering light of the fireplace, the golden bedsheets, the chair positioned exactly where I had last seen it. As if time had not moved anything in this place.
And yet… something caught my attention for the first time.
Maybe it had always been there, but I had never noticed.
On the wall, finely engraved, golden letters glowed:
"I wait for you, I wait to burn in your arms, my angel, Gabriel."
I froze at the first letters. My breath hitched. My fingers traced the carving, as if my touch could summon the moment it had been made.
A single tear slid down my face.
Because I remembered.
Not as a vague, familiar feeling… but truly, clearly, sharply. A fragment of my past pulsed within that wall. And I knew it had happened.
There is a difference between feeling déjà vu and knowing reality.
The realization was chilling, yet… bittersweet. It wasn't just an old dream. It was real.
I quickly wiped the tear away. That's when I heard the footsteps.
He entered.
Gabriel.
I stood still, letting our gazes meet. A flicker of surprise crossed his face. And within me, too—because for the first time, I looked at him differently.
Differently than before.
Now I knew.
And there was something bittersweet in that knowledge. A fairy tale I had cut short—because I had not chosen him as the protagonist.
I suddenly wanted to avert my gaze. But I couldn't.
Yet, in the end, I spoke.
"I was just looking for you."
My voice felt foreign to me.
"The main guests are arriving. They are waiting for you. Please, come down as soon as possible."
Gabriel wore a crisp white lieutenant's uniform, adorned with golden buttons. Elegant, commanding—but I didn't see the uniform. I only saw him.
As I turned to leave, his hand caught my arm.
He didn't look at me. His gaze was fixed on the window.
"Don't cause trouble. Neither you nor your friends."
I froze.
"I don't know what you mean."
"A marble tablet was activated. Not here, in the palace… but at Michael's estate. And you've been rather close to him lately."
My heart skipped a beat.
"It could have been anyone. This is just an empty accusation."
His eyes locked onto mine with sharp intensity.
"You're looking at me the same way as back then."
I inhaled deeply.
"Back when?"
"Back when you left me. And you're doing it again now. Rushing headfirst into nothingness for the sake of nothing."
His last sentence detonated something inside me.
"If hundreds of people's lives are 'nothing' to you, then you haven't changed at all, Gabriel. You're still the same rule-abiding, so-called 'righteous' soul."
His name, spoken aloud, made the air tremble. Maybe even him.
I moved to leave, but he pulled me back one last time.
"You think you know everything," he whispered, "but you understand nothing. And it's better that way. As long as your identity remains unknown, you are safe."
I turned to him, a cynical smile curling my lips.
"Do you know what's truly unknown?" I asked dryly. "What happens if you don't go down. I think the guests are getting impatient."
My words struck him sharply, but before he could reply, the arrogant woman appeared at the top of the stairs, angrily motioning for the General to come down immediately.
Gabriel cast one last, warning glance at me, murmuring,
"I'm not finished with you yet."
"I am," I replied coolly, turning away.
Walking down the corridor, my breath quickened. It felt as if a hundred blackbirds had settled onto my chest, their weight suffocating me. The memories wouldn't leave me alone—not blurring the present but sharpening it.
One thing was certain: I had loved Gabriel, but never in the way he wanted. And perhaps we had never truly understood each other. I had suffocated in his strict rules; he had drowned in my unpredictability.
But I didn't dwell on it now.
Moving forward, I opened a window, drawing in deep breaths. I had to clear my mind. Refocus on the goal.
And then I saw her.
Clarissa stood there, her usual sickly-sweet smile making me nauseous even from a distance. Her revealing dress left little to the imagination; she looked more like a demonic villain than an angel. Beside her stood Raphael—who remained true to himself. They were complete opposites, yet somehow, they fit together.
The sight of them instantly reminded me of Élise and the others. How far had they gotten? I reached for my communicator—but then I noticed how far I had wandered down the corridor.
And then, I stopped.
A door, slightly ajar.
I didn't know why it drew me in. Why I felt the urgent pull to peek inside.
Maybe it was just an inexplicable instinct. A quiet whisper in my mind, telling me:
Do it.
And so, I did.
The silence of the room wrapped around me as if an old secret were whispering its trapped stories within the walls. The scent of books mingled with the dust floating in the air, and the wooden steps of the spiral staircase, reaching high above, led to the bed draped in gleaming silk. Everything was in perfect order—too perfect. As if someone had carefully arranged it but never truly used it.
The enormous painting depicted a field of daffodils, and as I touched the canvas, something in the world trembled. A breeze brushed against my hand, the scents, the textures so real that for a moment, it felt as if a gateway to another dimension had opened. A shiver ran down my spine. Something was off.
Scanning the room more closely, I noticed the small signs left on the desk: an embroidered handkerchief with a gracefully curved "U" stitched into it. My fingers instinctively closed around it, and without thinking, I slipped it into my pocket.
Just then, a faint sound came through my earpiece.
— Hello? Hello, Avarka? — Elis's voice trembled softly on the line. — We're here.
My stomach clenched.
— Where is "here"? — I asked, already gliding silently into the hallway.
— Downstairs. In the courtyard, at the celebration. But… there's a small problem.
— A small problem? Elis, don't keep me in suspense!
— A tiny issue… but come down, now!
Adrenaline surged through me. I moved like a shadow through the hallway. The depths of the palace were deserted—everyone was outside, enjoying the festivities. Reaching the entrance, I stepped up to one of the guards.
— Soldier, I need to check the back area. You'll oversee the front garden in the meantime.
— Yes, Commander! — He saluted and took his post.
Everything seemed calm, but deep in my gut, I felt that something was wrong. Crossing the courtyard, I saw the general delivering a rousing speech, the crowd listening attentively. I reached Elis, who, with a single motion, pointed in the opposite direction.
— What am I supposed to see?
— Avarka… look ahead!
And then I saw them. Chloe and Zach stood among the other guards, laughing and… kissing.
The whole world froze for a moment.
— I… I don't understand — I turned to Elis, whose face was tense.
— He… he really is Zach. I don't know how, but he knows everything. We asked him questions only he could answer.
My thoughts roared in my head.
— The box?
— We have it… but it's empty. We found it suspiciously easily. As if someone left it there for us on purpose.
I latched onto his words, but in the next moment, ice filled my veins. Michael stood at the edge of the crowd, a champagne glass in his hand. Our eyes met—his expression was desperate, as if he sensed something… then he collapsed.
At that moment, Elis was just lifting a champagne glass to his lips.
— Ugh, I'm so thirsty…
— NO! — I instinctively reached back, but it was too late. Elis's eyes glazed over, and he fainted.
And then all hell broke loose.
One by one, people started collapsing, champagne glasses shattering on the ground, and in mere seconds, the grand ball turned into a nightmare. Screams, chaos, running figures…
— ALL UNITS, IMMEDIATELY TO THE AREA! — I shouted into the radio.
Soldiers flooded in as I issued orders.
— Anyone who hasn't drunk, get inside the palace! The unconscious ones—take them to the upper floor!
We couldn't go to the lower levels—there were too many entrances. While I kept everything under control, my breath caught for a moment. Clarissa… was nowhere to be seen. It was as if she had vanished into thin air.
The unconscious were carried upstairs, mattresses brought in from the academy—bodies lay everywhere, all alive but seemingly lost in a deep slumber.
And that's when the true horror set in.
This was a trap. And we had walked right into it.
I paced up and down the corridor, constantly checking in with the others through my radio. We had reinforced the windows and doors, securing the upper floors separately. Everything was ready downstairs, but we knew that if they broke in, the battle would be decided on the upper levels.
For now, Clarissa and her forces hadn't reached the palace yet, but we weren't naïve enough to think we could avoid confrontation for long. Her goal was obvious—and now we knew that the box in our possession was not empty.
Clarissa didn't care about the box itself, but what it now contained: the remnants of the souls of the sleepers. She was in no hurry. She could fill new bodies with new souls whenever she pleased. The angels who had fallen into deep slumber weren't completely empty; a tiny spark still remained within them. But that only meant she could banish them more easily if the situation demanded it. For now, however, there were no new souls—and that was our only advantage.
And yet, the air vibrated with the silence before the inevitable storm. I had to stay awake. I couldn't allow my focus to waver. One moment, all was calm; the next, the palace could turn into a battlefield. Some of the defenders kept reinforcing the barricades, while others brought water and food to those who remained. Some had gone to the woman's manor for help—but Clarissa had made sure that most of them would never fight again. The poison mixed into the champagne had done its job; most of our lieutenants and soldiers now lay before me, lifeless.
Gabriel, Clara, John, Elis, and so many others. Even now, they retained their angelic beauty. Their snow-white skin lay against the marble floor like a parched desert where winter had passed, but summer had yet to arrive. They looked so peaceful, as if they were merely sleeping. But deep down, I knew this was not the kind of sleep one easily woke from.
We moved the bodies to the most secure place: the great hall, where the marble platform stood. They lay scattered across the room like fragile monuments. We fortified the upper level and the room leading to the terrace—if anything happened, that was where we would have to make our stand. The dark-clad soldiers lined up, checking their weapons. The tension in the air was invisible, yet tangible.
A sharp voice in my earpiece yanked me back to reality.
— Commander! Come here immediately!
There was a tense urgency in the voice.
— We've detected movement. Subtle. We can't identify it.
I turned and was already moving. I rushed to the defensive positions, where a group of dark-clad soldiers watched the shadows. At the palace's perimeter, figures dressed in dark blue appeared—Clarissa's soldiers. They advanced in precise formation, stepping out of the darkness. One of them, a tall man who was likely their leader, stepped forward.
— Hand over the bodies.
His voice was firm but not raised. He didn't need threats—their superior numbers spoke for themselves.
— Not a chance. — My voice rang sharp.
The man nodded. No more words were needed.
They charged.
The next moment blurred into chaos. Blades flashed, weapons clashed, bodies collided. A dark-blue soldier slashed at me, but I dodged, and the knife grazed my shoulder. Pain flared through me like fire, but I didn't stop. Only one thought filled my mind: I cannot give them up.
I kept fighting. Shattered vase fragments sliced my palms as I fell, but I jumped back up immediately. Blood and dust mixed in the air, the noise of battle drowning out all thought. Torn banners lay underfoot, remnants of the palace being ripped apart in real-time.
Then, a blade pierced my arm. I flinched but continued. There was no time to dwell on pain. In the center of the hall, two bodies hit the ground—one of my dark-clad soldiers and one of theirs. They had shot each other at the same time. There was no time to mourn.
From the corner of my eye, I saw movement—a flash of light. One of the dark-blue soldiers was aiming straight at my heart with inhuman speed.
I moved on instinct. My hand closed around a large shard of a broken vase, and with all my strength, I drove it into his chest. His eyes widened, then he collapsed with a dull thud.
Meanwhile, the battle around us slowly died down. They realized that wiping each other out had been swift, but they hadn't gotten what they wanted.
The remaining enemies retreated.
One of them left us with a message, his bloodied face twisted in mock reproach.
— Then the new masters will come for them.
He spat a clump of blood and shot himself.
His words sent ice through my veins.
Souls were an unstoppable surplus. There was no physical barrier that could keep them out, and destroying them all was an impossible task.
We were barely twenty left.
I turned toward the castle. I feared for them—the ones still inside, unharmed for now, but no wall or door could protect them from the souls.
Then, a sharp pain shot through me.
I needed shelter.
I needed someone who could protect me, someone to run to.
I ran.
My legs moved on their own as I sped through the hallways, searching for him.
The ruler.
I pounded on the doors.
I yanked at the handles, my tears trailing behind me like tangled threads, like parallel oceans.
Nothing.
I banged on the ruler's chamber door.
Every door.
No one answered.
I knocked on every possible door in a frenzy, but there was nothing.
My fists were splintered from hammering the doors as I writhed in unanswered, desperate pleas for help. My tear-streaked, blood-smeared face scanned the ground where I had collapsed at the boundary of the shattered doors, at the top of the stairs.
— You can be sure that he's not here.
The voice startled me.
A woman stood behind me. Her eyes were expressionless, her movements light.
Dahlia.
— Don't look at me like that. I don't drink.
— Where is the ruler? — I panted.
Dahlia shrugged.
— He wasn't here even during the celebration.
My heart clenched.
— Then… what do we do? — I didn't hide my pain. A single look at me was enough to see it.
Dahlia stepped closer, her gaze piercing into mine.
— The question is not what we do. It's what you will do. You are trained for this.
Her words hit like a slap.
— We don't hurt anyone. We certainly don't kill. The ruler is wise. He lets those who seek destruction perish, and he rebuilds from the ruins.
— Clarissa is corrupt. A Nephilim. To me, she is the child of betrayal. But I cannot harm her. You can. No more pleading. Do what you swore to do.
I didn't agree with her.
Damn this rule where the ruler flees and waits for peace.
I wanted nothing more than to send Dahlia to the deepest pit of hell.
But something clicked inside me.
My fury burned.
If I did something, it wouldn't be for her. It would be for the angels who deserved it, who fought for what was right if they had to.
I rushed down to the great hall.
Dahlia followed.
Chloe and Zach were desperately trying to make sense of the situation. I saw the fear in their eyes. But emotions didn't matter now.
— Capture him now! — I pointed at Zach.
Chloe's tear-filled eyes met mine.
— Avarka, what are you doing?!
I didn't even look at her.
— I'm saving us.
Dahlia stepped forward, her gaze drilling into Zach's mind.
— He knows more than he says.
— Tell us what you know! — I demanded.
— I don't know anything!
Dahlia's voice was cold.
— There's a block in him. Something is stopping him.
I had no more time.
— Take him to the other room. If he won't talk on his own, we'll make him.
The soldiers moved.
The command was given.
And I was prepared to use the cruelest methods to put an end to all of this.