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The day it comes back..
It happens in the middle of a lecture.
You're sitting in class, pen moving absently across paper, the professor's voice blending into background noise. Mira is two rows ahead of you, head tilted slightly as she listens—too still, now that you think about it.
Then the lights flicker.
Once.
Twice.
The projector cuts out.
A murmur ripples through the room.
And then—
Everything falls inward.
Not darkness like night.
Darkness like removal.
The walls stretch, thinning into silhouettes. Sound drains first—voices cut mid-syllable, frozen faces locked in place. Your classmates remain seated, unmoving, eyes open but unseeing, like mannequins abandoned mid-scene.
Your breath sounds too loud.
Mira stiffens.
Her shoulders jerk sharply.
"No," she whispers.
The word echoes—wrongly.
You feel it then.
That familiar pressure, multiplied.
Attention.
Hungry and triumphant.
Classrooms are such fragile places, a voice murmurs, sliding through the air like oil.
So many minds. So little protection.
"Mira," you gasp, standing so fast your chair scrapes—but the sound never lands.
She turns.
Her eyes are already darkening.
"No—no—no—" she pants, clutching her head. "It's back—it's inside—"
The temperature plummets.
The room fractures.
The ceiling peels away, revealing nothing—no sky, no stars—just a vast, churning void pressing down from above.
He appears beside you instantly.
Fully himself.
Runes blazing across his skin, eyes burning with fury you've never seen unleashed.
"You will not have her," he growls.
The thing manifests opposite him—no longer hiding its shape.
Tall. Emaciated. Its form constantly unraveling and reassembling, like it can't decide which nightmare it wants to be. Its face is wrong—features sliding slightly out of place, mouth smiling far too wide.
"Oh, but she's already open," it croons. "And now… so are you."
Mira screams.
Her body arches violently, feet lifting off the floor as invisible force seizes her. Blood spills from the corners of her eyes, thick and dark, streaking down her cheeks.
You rush toward her.
The thing lashes out.
You feel the hit before you see it—an impact that slams into your chest like a collapsing building. You're thrown backward, skidding across the warped floor.
Pain explodes through you.
Not just physical—structural.
Something inside you cracks open.
You gasp, choking, vision blurring.
He roars.
The sound tears through the void like thunder ripping reality apart.
Power detonates from him in a blinding surge, light colliding with shadow as he lunges forward, slamming into the thing with a force that folds the space between them.
They crash through layers of reality—classroom dissolving entirely now, replaced by a vast, spiraling expanse of fractured memories and raw spiritual terrain.
You push yourself upright, heart hammering, vision swimming.
Mira convulses midair, screaming as the thing pulls at her from the inside.
"No—please—stop—" she sobs, blood pouring freely now.
You scream her name.
Something answers.
Not the thing.
You.
The hollow inside your chest responds.
You feel it—energy rushing through you, wild and untrained, pouring out through your hands like a scream given shape.
A sphere of distorted light forms instinctively between your palms—unstable, flickering violently.
The thing notices.
"Oh," it breathes, delighted. "You finally understand what you are."
It strikes.
A blast of concentrated shadow slams into you, tearing the air apart. You throw up your hands too late—
Impact.
White agony.
You're flung hard, body crashing into nothingness, pain ripping through every nerve. You feel something tear inside you—something important.
You scream.
And he loses it.
The air ignites.
He moves with pure, unrestrained fury now—no restraint, no mercy. He drives into the thing again and again, blows landing like collapsing stars. Each strike sends shockwaves ripping through the void.
"You will not touch them!" he roars.
"You will not exist near them!"
The thing shrieks, fighting back viciously.
Blades of darkness slash across his torso. He barely reacts.
Power collides with power—spheres of light and shadow detonating, tearing chunks out of the spiritual plane itself. Time fractures. Space bends. The battlefield becomes a storm of raw force and hatred.
You stagger to your feet, vision blurred, chest burning.
Mira's screams weaken.
Her body thrashes violently—then jerks—
And drops.
She collapses to the ground in a heap.
"No!" you scream, crawling toward her.
The thing lunges for her—
And you snap.
You don't think.
You don't hesitate.
You release everything.
The hollow inside you opens fully, sucking in the surrounding energy and hurling it outward in a blinding wave. The blast slams into the thing, staggering it back with a howl of pure rage.
You dare— it snarls.
"Yes," you gasp. "I do."
He takes that moment.
With a final, earth-shattering strike, he drives his power straight through the thing's core.
The scream that follows is inhuman.
The void collapses inward violently, folding the thing in on itself as it's torn backward, dragged screaming into whatever abyss spawned it.
Silence crashes down.
The classroom snaps back into place.
Lights flicker on.
Students blink, confused, murmuring as if nothing happened.
You collapse beside Mira, hands shaking.
"Mira—Mira—please—"
She coughs.
Blood drips from her lashes.
Then her eyes flutter open.
She sobs.
"I—I'm here," she whispers hoarsely. "I'm here."
You pull her into your arms, shaking uncontrollably.
He stumbles toward you, wounds closing slowly, rage bleeding off him in heavy waves.
"It's gone," he says. "For now."
Mira clings to you, trembling violently. "It hurt," she sobs. "It hurt so much—I thought—I thought I was dying—"
"You're not," you whisper fiercely. "You're not."
He kneels beside you both.
"It fought harder this time," he says grimly. "Because it knows what you are becoming."
Mira looks up at him, eyes still bleeding faintly.
"Am I free?" she asks.
His expression softens—but only slightly.
"No," he admits. "You're still marked."
Her face crumples.
"But you resisted," he continues. "That matters."
You look at him, heart pounding.
"It lasted an hour," you whisper. "An hour of fighting."
He nods. "And it will escalate."
You hold Mira tighter, fear and fury tangling in your chest.
"What happens next?" you ask.
He looks at you.
At the hollow inside you, still burning.
"At her."
"At what's coming."
"Next," he says quietly,
"it stops trying to take you one at a time."
The lights hum overhead.
The professor resumes talking.
No one remembers.
But Mira shakes in your arms, still marked.
And deep inside you—
Something smiles back at the darkness.
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