The sky split open.
A tear in reality, forming in the air above us—not a portal, not magic as I knew it, but something else. Something wrong.
And from its depths, they emerged.
The Twins.
They didn't step out. They fell.
Two figures, identical in form, descending like silent reapers, untouched by gravity, untouched by the world itself.
They landed behind me and Naestra.
Effortless. Unshaken. As if they had always been here.
I turned—veins already bulging as Astrid's fury ignited within me. My muscles tightened, strength surging through my limbs, my instincts screaming to strike first—
But then—
The black-eyed Twin looked at me.
And I froze.
Not hesitated.
Not slowed.
I. Could. Not. Move.
I willed my body to move, I ordered my arms to swing, my legs to step, my breath to shift—nothing.
I was locked. Paralyzed.
No chains. No weight. No force holding me down.
Just his eyes.
And I was powerless.
The white-eyed Twin stepped forward.
Slowly. Calmly.
He leaned down, gaze settling on Naestra's broken form.
And then—he whispered.
A single sound.
A breath.
A word I couldn't hear, but felt in my bones.
And then—Naestra was gone.
Not in a burst of energy.
Not ripped away.
Not teleported.
She was there—and then she wasn't.
In her place, hovering where she had once been—
A small, solid black box.
Perfect. Featureless. A shape that shouldn't exist.
My breath caught. My heart slammed against my ribs.
I couldn't do anything.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't save her.
All my strength—everything I had gained, everything I had fought for—
Useless.
I had power. I had come so far.
And when it mattered most—
It wasn't enough.
Behind me, Orlan was moving.
I couldn't see him—my eyes were still locked to the black-eyed Twin, my body frozen in place—but I felt the air shift, magic coiling, something forming at his fingertips.
He was conjuring something.
A counterattack. A last-ditch effort. A spell I couldn't even comprehend.
But then—
The white-eyed Twin whispered.
A flash of green.
A sound—a knock.
And then—
Orlan was gone.
Not erased, not vanishing—just gone.
I heard the impact before I saw it. The sound of his body being flung violently through the air, crashing into the dirt with a force that shook the ground beneath me.
Even Orlan.
Even him.
The greatest mage who had ever lived.
Knocked away by a whisper.
There was this much of a gap between us?
A mortal against a god?
Then what was this all for?
All the training. All the sacrifices. All the power I had clawed my way toward—
For nothing?
If Orlan—the mage who slayed a god, who defied the impossible—
If even he was brushed aside so effortlessly…
Then what was I?
"Oh, we've got to leave now, Brother."
The black-eyed Twin's voice was smooth. Casual. Like this was nothing to them.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between us in an instant. One hand grabbed me by the collar, while the other reached down, curling around the small black box that held Naestra.
I wasn't looking at his eyes anymore.
But it didn't matter.
I still couldn't move.
The white-eyed Twin whispered again—a breath, a sound, a law of the universe rewritten.
A portal unfolded before us.
I couldn't do anything.
I couldn't stop them.
Then—
A thud.
A sound like metal crashing against the earth.
Followed by a roar.
Not just any roar.
An angry one.
A familiar one.
Sieg Brandt.
"NO!"
I had barely registered the voice before—
The hand that held me was gone.
I fell forward as black ichor sprayed across the dirt, severed fingers still curled around the air where I had just been.
I gasped—I could move.
But before I could act, before I could strike back—
The white-eyed Twin whispered.
And in the blink of an eye—
Everything shifted.
A weight slammed into my chest—a strike, too fast to react to, knocking me backward.
Into the portal.
The last thing I saw was the black-eyed Twin, the box still in his grasp—both of them stepping through right after me.
And then—
Darkness.
I opened my eyes.
And I knew, instantly—
This was not my world.
This was not a world at all.
I stood on solid black. A vast, flat expanse of nothing. Not stone, not earth—just a surface that existed, cold beneath my feet.
But beyond it—
Beyond this tiny stretch of darkness—was light.
Blinding.
Endless.
Stretching infinitely in every direction, a vast ocean of pure white, so bright it should have burned my eyes.
But it didn't.
There was no sky. No horizon.
Just this one solid slab of black, floating in an abyss of white.
A world that was split in two—but neither half belonged to the other.
"That Sieg prick!"
The black-eyed Twin's voice echoed through the void, sharp, venomous. His form tensed, his fingers twitching in agitation.
"How dare he wound me with my own blade!"
He clenched his jaw, flexing his severed arm—
And just like that—
It grew back.
Flesh and bone reformed in an instant, muscles weaving themselves into place, fingers curling, flexing as if nothing had happened.
As if Sieg had never touched him.
As if Sieg Brandt himself had meant nothing.
I gritted my teeth.
My hands tightened around my sword. I could move again.
Astrid's fury still burned inside me, my veins still pulsing, my muscles still heavy with raw strength. But Rikard was gone.
He needed time.
Time I didn't have.
I needed to get out.
Somehow.
Now that I could actually take them in, I saw them clearly.
The Twins.
Identical in every way—same height, same frame, same delicate, eerily perfect features. Like they had been carved from the same mold, pulled from the same unnatural void.
But now, I could see the difference.
The black-eyed Twin wore a flowing black robe, hood draped lazily across his shoulders, fabric shifting like shadows curling at the edges.
The white-eyed Twin wore the same thing—but in pure white. Crisp. Untouched. Flawless.
That was it.
That was the only thing that separated them.
One black.
One white.
And then—
The white-eyed Twin turned toward me.
Slowly.
His lips curled into a smile.
Mocking.
I knew that smile.
I had seen it before.