The rain refused to stop.
It poured from a sky thick with thunderclouds, washing blood and ashes from the crumbled stones of Athelor. Lightning slithered like angry gods, and the wind howled with the voices of the dead. Somewhere in that chaos, Mira stood alone in the broken catacombs, staring at the spot where the High Judge had disappeared.
He had escaped.
But she hadn't.
Not entirely.
Because now… she could hear them.
The souls of the dead. The ones he'd consumed. The ones he left behind.
They whispered from the cracks in the walls, from the splatters of blood on the altar, from the wet, rotting bones beneath her feet.
And the worst part?
She understood them.
"Mira?"
Serya's voice broke through the veil.
Mira blinked and turned.
Serya stood at the edge of the chamber, torchlight painting her face in shadows. Her armor was scorched, her eyes bloodshot, but she was alive.
"You've been down here for hours," she said quietly. "You didn't answer when I called."
"I didn't hear you."
"You were speaking in a language I didn't understand," Serya said, stepping closer. "It didn't sound like you."
Mira looked at her hands. They still bore the blackened veins, but the smoke was gone now. In its place, a dull ache—like her body was a jar too full to hold everything inside it.
"I think something's growing inside me," she whispered. "Something old. Something angry."
Serya knelt beside her. "Then we fight it. Together."
Mira shook her head. "You don't understand. I don't want to fight it anymore."
Later that night, as the survivors gathered in a makeshift shelter, Mira couldn't sleep.
The wind outside was full of howls—but not wolves.
They were calling.
In her dream, she stood before a lake of black glass. Her reflection was not her own—it was the Queen's.
Venra.
Eyes like molten gold, skin pale as the moon, a smile full of secrets.
"You opened the gate," the Queen said.
Mira tried to speak, but her mouth was sewn shut.
"You brought the curse back to life," Venra whispered. "Not me. Not the Judge. You."
Then the Queen stepped through the mirror.
And entered Mira's body.
Mira woke with a scream.
The others jolted awake, weapons drawn, eyes wide.
She was drenched in sweat, her hands clenched so tightly her nails had drawn blood from her palms.
"She's here," Mira gasped. "The Queen. She's using me now."
Serya ran to her. "You're not her. You're still you."
"No," Mira whispered. "I'm becoming what she was always meant to be."
Far away, in the ruined city of Elaros, the High Judge stood in front of an obsidian altar.
The air crackled with magic.
In front of him, a girl—barely sixteen—lay unconscious, her chest rising and falling faintly. She had hair like fire and skin pale as a corpse.
The Queen's vessel.
"She was born under the eclipse," the High Judge murmured. "Fated. Pure. Empty."
He pressed a black shard—a splinter of the Bloodstone—against her chest.
The moment it touched her skin, the girl arched, screaming, as shadows poured into her mouth.
The Queen was returning.
Back in Athelor, Mira wandered to the temple ruins alone.
She felt a pull—like an invisible thread tying her soul to the stone.
The temple was a place of worship once. Now it was a grave.
Statues of ancient gods stood broken, their faces worn away by time and war. The altar was stained with sacrifice.
And in the center, carved into the floor, was a symbol Mira recognized.
The serpent swallowing the sun.
The mark of Black Genesis.
She dropped to her knees and traced the symbol with her fingers.
Visions hit her instantly.
The fall of kingdoms.
Blood rain.
Children screaming as the skies opened and monsters poured from the heavens.
And through it all… herself. Wearing a crown of bone.
"Mira!" Serya's voice rang out again.
But this time, Mira didn't look back.
"Do you know what this is?" Mira said softly, still staring at the symbol.
Serya looked down.
"No. But it feels… wrong."
"It's the first magic," Mira said. "Before gods, before laws. The magic of creation and destruction."
Serya stepped back. "You're scaring me."
Mira turned. Her eyes flickered gold for a second—Venra's gold.
"I'm scared too," she said. "Because I want to use it."
That night, they received a visitor.
A woman cloaked in raven feathers, her eyes veiled.
She appeared at the edge of their camp without warning.
"I bring a message," she said, voice like glass shattering.
"From whom?" Serya asked, sword raised.
The woman tilted her head.
"From the Queen."
Everyone tensed.
"She has been reborn," the woman continued. "In the girl from the North. The one born during the eclipse."
Mira's stomach dropped.
"I saw her," she whispered. "In the Netherplace."
The woman turned to her.
"She calls you sister."
The girl—her name was Kaelin.
She had no memory of her past.
No family. No home. Only dreams.
Dreams of fire and blood and a throne made of shadows.
As the Queen took over her soul, Kaelin's body began to change.
Her voice grew deeper. Her hair turned silver. Her veins glowed with obsidian fire.
And soon, she was no longer Kaelin.
She was Venra.
Reborn.
"We need to stop her," Mira said.
They stood at the mouth of a cave, three days from Elaros.
"But she's just a child," Serya said. "She didn't choose this."
"Neither did I," Mira said. "But that didn't stop the Queen from using me either."
Serya grabbed her arm. "You're not her. You can fight it."
"I'm not sure I want to."
Serya recoiled. "What?"
Mira looked at her, eyes filled with pain.
"If I take this power… I can end this. End the Judge. End the Queen. End everything."
"At what cost?"
"My soul," Mira whispered. "Maybe yours too."
They reached the city ruins on the fourth night.
Elaros was silent.
Too silent.
No crows. No wind. No whispers.
Just stillness.
And death.
As they walked through the ruins, Mira saw them—bodies propped up like puppets. Eyes open. Mouths sewn shut.
All facing the palace.
"She's here," Mira said.
Suddenly, the palace gates opened.
And Kaelin—Venra—walked out.
Clad in a gown of black fire, her silver hair floating like mist, her eyes burning with gold flame.
Behind her, the High Judge.
"Welcome, sister," Venra said, smiling at Mira.
Mira drew her sword. "This ends tonight."
Venra's smile grew wider. "Oh, no. It begins."
The ground cracked.
The sky tore open.
And Mira screamed.
As ancient magic exploded between them.
As the Black Genesis awoke.