The night had grown too quiet. Even the fire seemed hesitant, its flames guttering low, shadows stretching unnaturally long across the ground. Clara sat rigid, arms wrapped around her knees, Evelyn's concerned eyes fixed on her. She could feel Damien's gaze on her back like a blade and Zeke's silence like a verdict.
She couldn't tell them the truth. Not when Yurin's laughter still trembled in her bones. Not when she could still feel his words brushing against the inside of her skull.
But the silence was broken before she could decide.
A low hum escaped her throat. Not her hum. Not her pitch.
The sound vibrated strangely, deeper, resonant, like a chord plucked on a string that didn't belong to her. Clara's hand flew to her mouth, but the hum continued, unbothered by her panic.
Evelyn reached for her immediately. "Clara?"
Damien's sword rasped free before Evelyn's fingers could touch. His stance was poised, sharp. "That wasn't her."
Zeke didn't move at all. His eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thinner line, as if he had just confirmed an equation.
"No—" Clara tried to speak, but the hum twisted into words before she could stop it.
Words that weren't hers.
"Always so quick with the blade, Damien. Always so quick to cut what you don't understand."
Her stomach flipped. The voice wasn't in her head this time. It was spilling from her mouth, smooth, calm, and unmistakably his. Yurin's voice.
Her lips curved into a smile she hadn't chosen.
The air shattered. Evelyn staggered back, her hands trembling. "Clara—stop. Fight him."
"I am fighting!" Clara screamed, but it wasn't her voice that left her throat—it was his laughter, echoing through the clearing, shaking the firelight itself.
Her body lurched forward, moving without permission. Her hand lifted, fingers twitching in the air, and the fire bent toward it like a candle bowing to wind. She gasped, yanking her hand down, but the flames followed until Zeke traced a quick sigil in the dirt and cut them off with a harsh crack.
"Contain her," Zeke ordered, his voice colder than the night.
"Don't you dare!" Evelyn's voice cracked, her arms spreading as if she could shield Clara with her body.
"Look at her," Damien growled, his blade gleaming in the fire's last flicker. "That's not Clara anymore."
Clara's knees buckled. She pressed her fists against her skull, desperate to squeeze him out, to force the voice back where it belonged. "Stop! Please—stop!"
But Yurin's whisper only deepened, curling around her words.
"Why do you beg me, Clara? Haven't you realized yet? You and I… we are not separate. You're the vessel because you were always the vessel. Because part of you wanted this."
Her hands dropped against her will. Her lips parted against her will. Her eyes lifted, and she saw her reflection in Damien's sword—except the eyes staring back weren't hers.
They were crimson.
The clearing erupted. Damien lunged forward, his blade a blur of steel. Evelyn screamed his name, throwing herself in front of Clara, and the clash rang out as Damien's strike skidded against Evelyn's barrier spell, sparks cascading between them.
Clara fell backward, gasping, clutching at her chest as Yurin's laughter reverberated louder and louder inside. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't even feel her heartbeat—it was as though his had replaced it.
Zeke didn't hesitate. His fingers slashed through the air, runes spilling light onto the dirt like molten gold. "Move, Evelyn."
"No!" Evelyn shouted, standing firm, arms outstretched, tears burning down her cheeks. "She's still in there!"
"Barely," Damien snarled. His blade was steady, but Clara saw the tremor in his grip. Saw the flicker of something—fear, guilt, or maybe both—in his eyes.
Clara crawled back, her body shaking, her nails digging into the soil. She wanted to scream that Evelyn was right, that she was still here, that she hadn't given up—but her mouth curved into Yurin's smile again.
"You hesitate," he whispered through her lips. His gaze flicked from Damien's blade to Zeke's glowing runes. "You're afraid not of me… but of what killing me means for her. How ironic. You're paralyzed by the very weakness I will never allow her to carry."
Her body stood before she realized it. Her spine straightened. Her arms spread wide. The crimson glow in her eyes pulsed brighter, casting shadows across Evelyn's desperate face.
"Let me show you what she could become."
The fire roared back to life in a spiral, swirling upward into a vortex of heat and flame. The ground trembled beneath them, the air growing heavy as her veins burned with power that wasn't hers.
Clara screamed inside her own skull, clawing against the force controlling her limbs. No! Stop! I don't want this!
But the world outside didn't hear her scream.
It only heard Yurin's.
And it was beautiful.