Chapter 25 – When the Cards Attack Their God
Rain fell soundlessly on the rusted rooftops of the old city. Inside a dark warehouse, Enver stood in the midst of a swirling vortex of dead spirits. He drew a card from within his cloak. The card had blackened. The air grew tense.
Tonight's purificazione target was an old man—a corruptor who traded the souls of orphans for an astral immortality ritual. But when Enver cast the card into the air, it trembled violently.
Not in obedience. But in refusal.
The card burst in a surge of thick, blood-colored aura.
"…Are you… rejecting me?" Enver's voice was barely audible.
Black light surged upward, and one by one, two more cards appeared. Not summoned—rebelling.
Ten of Spades
The Widow's Veil
Judgement Reversed
The three cards spun in the air, cracks of light splintering across their surfaces. The spirits inside roared in defiance. Screams and laughter echoed through the warehouse.
From the dark corners, malicious spirits that had yet to be purified began to rise. They caught the scent of imbalance from the cards and charged at Enver like clawed black mist.
Enver didn't move. He opened his hands, accepting all attacks without resistance.
"If you hesitate… let me bear it for you."
The Ten of Spades struck his chest. Blood sprayed. The Widow's Veil coiled around his neck like a rope of spirit, and Judgement Reversed slashed across his face with a flash of violet lightning. At the same time, the feral spirits crashed into his body like a storm.
Enver collapsed, yet did not scream. He only gazed calmly at the fractured ceiling above.
From within one card, a faint voice emerged:
> "If the living are unworthy to decide who should die… let chaos choose."
Enver fell silent. Those were Maxcen's words. Words once spoken to Zephyr.
But this was from a card? From within?
His hands trembled.
One card fractured—The Widow's Veil. From its crack, a soft pink light seeped out, slowly forming the silhouette of a woman suspended in the air.
She didn't attack. But her voice wrapped around the room like a lullaby.
"Enver…"
Enver's eyes widened. This was no ordinary voice. This was the voice that had soothed him in childhood dreams.
"Morren…?"
The light vanished in an instant. The card fell to the floor, shattering into spirit dust.
Before Enver could process it, the sky above the warehouse began to tremble. A small rift appeared in the air. Not large, but enough to reveal a fracture between worlds.
From the crack, no creature emerged. But the sound of a heartbeat could be heard. Slow. Deep. Like a call from the space between lives.
Enver closed his eyes. His body was drenched in blood. But he wasn't finished.
From afar, someone watched.
Dorvas, a former Hellseer Council member stripped of his power, stood still in the ruins of an old tower, observing the battle from the shadows.
He weakly gripped his broken chain.
"If his own power rejects him… then Enver is no longer a Hellseer," he whispered. "He's become something wilder. Something no one can control."
Beneath the ground, something stirred. Not a card. Not a spirit. But the echo of a being that had slept for ages, gagged by time and blood.
Enver collapsed. His body torn, his cloak shredded. Yet he smiled faintly. His blood dripped between the fragments of the once-loyal cards that now rebelled.
"If they must hurt me to be free… so be it. I will be that wound."
The warehouse fell silent. But the astral world recorded everything. And somewhere, someone heard Enver's heartbeat… and answered it.