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Chapter 4: Chains and Fangs
The moon cast pale silver across the Aderenle estate.
Nabila sat alone in her chambers, her heart heavy. She replayed her father's words, the King's decree, the looming shadow of her forced engagement to Dick.
Her fists trembled. She had always played her role perfectly—the cold idol, untouchable, unbending. But inside, her chest burned. Why him? Why Malik? Why must fate strip him from me and bind me to that monster?
A voice broke the silence.
"You hide it well."
Nabila looked up sharply. Nyx stood in the corner, as if she had materialized from the shadows themselves. Her veil was lowered now, revealing sharp, elegant features. Her eyes—dark as the night sky—pierced into Nabila's with unsettling clarity.
"Your heart betrays you, Lady Nabila." Nyx's tone was calm, flat, but every word carried weight. "You despise the prince. And yet you feel something for the boy."
Nabila's breath caught. "…You saw?"
"I see everything." Nyx stepped closer, her aura suffocating. The famed Daughter of the Night—assassin, mage, warrior, blade of the empire—was a woman of few words, yet every one cut deep.
"You want to protect him. You want to defy the path laid for you. But you hesitate. Why?"
Nabila's nails dug into her palms. "…Because my family. Because duty. Because… I don't know if I'm strong enough."
Nyx tilted her head, studying her like prey. Then she spoke, quiet but merciless:
"Fate is a leash. If you do not grip it within your own palms, you will live as a chained beast forever."
Her words sank like poison and fire both.
Nabila's eyes widened, her heart pounding.
Grip my fate… within my palms…
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Far from the city, the forest trembled.
Malik stood before a monster.
The mutated gorilla towered over him, a second-tier beast—muscles like iron, its body pulsing with black veins. Its fists, each the size of a boulder, shattered trees with every swing. Its roar shook the ground.
Malik exhaled slowly, violet lightning crackling across his skin.
"Good. You'll do."
The beast charged, earth splintering beneath its weight.
Malik vanished.
In his slowed perception, the gorilla was sluggish, every motion a crawl. He reappeared at its side, driving a biomass blade through its flesh. The beast roared, swinging wildly, but Malik danced around it—speed and virus working as one.
The gorilla's fist grazed him once, and pain ripped through his chest like fire. He staggered back, coughing blood. His regeneration sparked instantly, wounds stitching closed as black tendrils writhed over his body.
Malik smiled coldly. His eyes glowed brighter.
"Stronger than the tiger. Good."
He lunged again, faster this time, tendrils lashing, fists striking, lightning surging. Each blow carried chaos, his body evolving with every clash.
The battle raged—brutality against brutality, predator against predator—until finally, Malik's hand plunged into the beast's chest, tendrils bursting outward like a storm.
The gorilla shrieked, then collapsed, its essence devoured. Malik stood above its withered corpse, his breath heavy but steady. His body pulsed with new strength, his veins glowing violet-black.
He stared at his hands. At the storm dancing across them.
"Faster. Stronger. Hungrier."
The hunger gnawed at him still, but so did resolve. He could feel himself becoming something beyond human, beyond virus, beyond speed itself.
His eyes narrowed toward the distant city.
"I will be ready."
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In the capital, Nabila lay awake, Nyx's words echoing through her mind.
"Grip your fate… or live chained forever."
She clenched her hand around her sheets, whispering into the night.
"Malik… whatever you've become… don't stop. Because if you rise… then maybe I can too."
And far away, Malik's vow mirrored her own—spoken to the darkness, sharp as lightning.
"I will rise. And when I do… the world will tremble."
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