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Thunder murmured in the distance like the low growl of a restless beast. The air around the ruined fortress was thick with sulfur and smoke — the remnants of a place once grand, now serving as the war intruders lair. Shadows clung to the broken pillars, twisted and hungry, whispering with the faint echo of demonic tongues. A single candle flickered on the center table, barely illuminating the figures gathered around it.
Velia sat at the head, her serpent-like eyes half-lidded, long nails tracing the rim of a glass filled with dark red wine. Every inch of her exuded quiet command — dangerous, poised, and patient. Across from her stood Gavriel, his scarred face contorted with irritation.
"How long do you plan to sit and wait?" Gavriel hissed, his tone slicing through the stillness. "They're all gathered in this place. It's the perfect time. One strike and we could end this!" His hand slammed onto the table, shaking the scattered maps and runes etched in blood.
Velia didn't flinch. Instead, she looked up lazily, her lips curving into a smile that was anything but pleasant. "Patience, dear Gavriel. It's what separates conquerors from corpses."
Her voice was like venom-laced honey, smooth but with the promise of poison. Gavriel's jaw tightened, the faint crackle of dark lightning flickering beneath his skin. Around them, the room held a dozen others —hungry werewolves, rogue witches, corrupted demons, and bloodlusted vampires. All of them had pledged themselves to Velia's cause, drawn by promises of a new age — one where the underworld had a superior ruler to give them freedom without restraint, where celestials fell.
He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "We've been patient long enough. The Phoenix Queen is exposed. Weak. Unawakened. If we don't take her now, we risk losing the advantage."
"And what advantage," Velia murmured, her tone dipping into mockery, "would that be, exactly? Attacking her under the protection of the Hell King? Of Ares and Lycan? You might as well slit your own throat and save them the trouble."
The room fell into uneasy silence. Only the sound of crackling fire and the faint hiss of Velia's serpent familiar, coiled lazily around her chair, filled the air.
Velia's emerald eyes flickered as she leaned forward, her voice lowering into something colder. "Need I remind you, Gavriel, that you are nothing but a spec of dust waiting to be crushed beneath Hades' foot if you act without my command?"
Gavriel's face darkened, but he said nothing. The reminder was a cruel truth — Hades, was not one to provoke. Even weakened, his power was incomprehensible. No one in the room could face him and live to tell it.
Velia rose from her chair slowly, her movements graceful yet deadly. "We will strike. But not yet. To move blindly is to die foolishly." She walked around the table, each step deliberate, predatory. "The Rune Coven is surronded by ancient magic. The witches have woven barriers strong enough to make a lesser army bleed for a day just to pierce it."
One of the witches in the shadows spoke softly. "Then… what is your plan, my lady?"
Velia smiled faintly, tracing a finger through the mist that curled above the candle flame. The smoke shifted, twisting into the form of Hazel — her silver hair and glowing eyes rendered in wisps of dark magic. "The Queen," she said, her voice dripping with fascination. "She is the key to all of this. She doesn't know what she is yet. Doesn't understand what burns inside her. And that… makes her perfect."
Her gaze lifted to the others. "She's still human enough to be deceived. Still soft enough to be moved by emotion. And that's what we'll use against her."
The room shifted with whispers. The rogues — men with eyes like wolves and blades hidden under their cloaks — leaned closer. The witches looked intrigued, exchanging knowing glances.
Gavriel crossed his arms. "And how exactly do you plan to deceive her? She's protected at all times. By Hades himself, no less."
A smirk tugged at Velia's lips. "Not always."
She turned to one of the shadow mages — a woman draped in crimson with a crystal orb floating above her palm. "You've been tracking their energy signatures?"
The mage nodded. "Yes, my lady. They've arrived safely at the Rune Coven. But there's… something strange."
"Strange?" Velia asked, her interest piqued.
"The Queen's aura," the mage murmured. "It's… changing. Flaring one moment, dormant the next. Almost as if she's fighting herself."
Velia's smirk deepened. "That means the awakening has begun. And when the phoenix stirs before it's ready…" She trailed off, tapping her nail against the table, "—it burns everything it touches. We need to proceed quickly but cautiously. I plan on ending her once and for all, killing the pheonix before it awakens will out an end to it for good, no more rising from ashes."
Gavriel frowned. "And what of the others?"
"Their focus is divided — investigations, storms, protection wards. They're exhausted and distracted. And the moment exhaustion takes root in powerful beings…" she turned back toward him, eyes flashing, "...is the moment the blade slips through their armor."
Her serpent hissed approvingly, slithering up her arm. Velia stroked its scales absently, her gaze far away. "We won't need to attack them directly. Not yet. We let chaos do the work for us."
"Chaos?" Gavriel echoed, though his tone had softened — curiosity replacing defiance.
Velia smiled darkly. " The storm of the dead is the first sign. The next… will be blood."
One of the witches flinched. "My lady, forgive my asking but… will the Serpent King be powerful enough to take on all the rulers?"
Velia's eyes gleamed like molten gold. "Something that even the gods feared once. A weapon buried in the heart of shadow. A being bound by divine fire— the eclipsed one." Her smile curved higher. "The brother to the Pheonix, they were both created during the eclipse, one by the celestials and the other by the underworld united."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Even Gavriel's hands twitched nervously. He'd heard the legends — all of them had. The Eclipsed One was said to be a creature forged in fear, the underworld ancestors coming together and using all their magic and power, the offspring of chaos and despair. No light could touch it. No darkness could command it. A monster that existed only to consume balance itself and fight against the Pheonix when the underworld were fed up.
"You intend to release that?" Gavriel's voice was low, incredulous. "That's suicide."
"It's strategy," Velia corrected smoothly. "It won't be bound to anyone for long — but long enough for me to bend it toward the Phoenix Queen. The moment her blood releases the Serpent King, I will destroy her, even if I don't succeed and she awakens fully, her energy will draw it to her like a moth to flame. And when that happens…" She smiled cruelly. "There will be no kingdom left for Hades to rule."
The shadow mages and demons exchanged uneasy looks, some thrilled, others fearful. Gavriel, however, stared at her with a mix of admiration and disgust. "You're insane."
Velia only tilted her head. "Perhaps. But insanity built empires long before reason destroyed them."
She turned her attention back to the table, placing a finger on the map. "The Rune Coven will fall. Not through brute force, but through precision. The witches' magic thrives on stability — we will sow doubt, unrest, and fear first. We will use their dead against them."
Gavriel blinked. "The dead?"
Velia's serpent hissed again, as though amused. "Yes. The storm awakened more than just echoes. The souls of the unburied wander now. And through necromancy, I can make them serve. The Coven will tear itself apart."
Gavriel took a step closer, lowering his voice. "And when the dust settles?"
Velia's smile turned predatory. "We take the Queen."
Hours passed as the war room buzzed with dark energy. Plans were laid out in blood and whispers. Velia orchestrated them like a conductor — patient, elegant, terrifyingly in control. She instructed her rogues to plant runes at the Coven's borders. The demons to stir the spirits bound by the storm. And the witches to prepare the cloaking spells that would hide their forces until the right moment.
At the far end of the room, Gavriel stood by the window, gazing at the sky — a void of bruised purple and red. His reflection stared back at him, eyes hard with resentment. "You underestimate them," he said finally, without turning. "Hades won't let anyone touch her."
Velia didn't look up from the map. "That's precisely what I'm counting on."
He turned toward her, suspicion flickering. "What do you mean?"
She met his gaze — emerald eyes glinting like knives. "His love for her will be his undoing. It always has been."
Her words lingered like smoke. Gavriel said nothing, though the unease in him deepened. He didn't trust her — no one truly did — but even he couldn't deny her cunning. And somewhere, beneath the hatred and ambition, a cold dread began to take root. For all her confidence, Velia's plan brushed too close to something ancient… something that shouldn't be awoken.
Velia turned back toward the window, her serpent curling around her shoulders like a living crown. The candlelight flickered across her face, highlighting her cruel beauty. In the distance, thunder rolled again — a hollow warning.