“There is always a choice,” she whispered. “And you chose wrong.”

  Adam knew there was no point in trying to explain. He stepped forward, but stopped at once when he saw Cassia tense, ready to attack. He knew this maid too well. If he moved any closer to the Altar, she would attack him, ignoring status or honor.

  He decided not to fight her. Dealing with Catherine, a mad Skyborn, was already more than enough for him.

  The ruler of the Province of Light physically endured the weight of the divine command pressing down on his shoulders.

  One wrong move, one careless step, and it could all end in a bloodbath. A very bloody one.

  “Dear,” Adam called to his wife, hoping to somehow defuse the delicate situation.

  “Shut up, bastard! DON’T DARE address me like that!” Catherine was on the brink of madness.

  At that moment, she didn’t care about the nonsense her ex-husband was spouting. All his arguments sounded like background noise. Only the body of her dying child demanded her attention.

  Tears ran down her face, leaving salty trails on her pale skin. Her hands vibrated, but she culdn’t stop them. She cast healing spells again and again, moving as if someone else was controlling her.

  Magical seals appeared and faded, and the green glow of her hands grew weaker with each attempt.

  “My son, don’t die, please! Open your eyes, I beg you! Live, baby, LIVE! Don’t leave me…” Her voice broke into a hoarse rasp, her mind thrown into complete chaos.

  “You promised you’d always be with Mom. Grey, please, wake up! Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die!”

  But the blood kept flowing. It was hot, sticky, and terrifying.

  Catherine could only watch in horror as her palms turned crimson. Her mind fogged. Reality simply wouldn’t fit into her head. Her brain refused to process what it saw.

  Half-mad, she heard words “Grey,” “the Prophecy,” and “Divine Will.” It only made her feel worse, as if her pain was being fueled even more.

  “HE IS MY SON! MY LITTLE BOY!” she screamed.

  Her body shivered as she sobbed. She realized her son hadn’t breathed since she got there. It had been at least thirty seconds.

  Something inside her broke. She let out a howl of pain.

  “No… no… no…” she whispered, shaking her head as if she could undo fate itself.

  She felt his body getting colder with each second. To her, this was worse than death.

  Her hands, still hot and sticky, held him tightly against her chest. She listened for a pulse, for any sign of life.

  But there was nothing.

  Even with her sharp Skyborn senses, she heard nothing. The silence was empty and overwhelming.

  Her eyes, red from crying, shifted between despair, hatred, and a desperate plea.

  A rush of her few happy memories flashed through her mind:

  The moment he was born. His first clumsy “Mama.” His eyes, clear and full of love. His little tricks to get her attention. His carefree laughter. The silly fight with his sister just before the tragedy. She remembered it all.

  But most of all, she remembered his eyes. His last look, full of fear and regret, just before he left her forever.

  Her lips trembled, and her body curled inward. She clutched the child as if she wanted to absorb his body into her own. She was afraid. Afraid like she had never been in her life. Afraid to see his lifeless eyes.

  No words could describe the pain and despair she felt.

  Catherine felt betrayed—by her husband, by the god, by the full fucking world that wanted to take her child. Even by Grey, who had promised to stay with her. Now her three-year-old son lay still, not breathing. She was powerless to help him.

  It was all her fault. She hadn’t been careful. She had let her guard down. She had failed to protect him. A foolish, useless mother.

  Catherine’s world was collapsing at a frightening speed. Her heart was being torn apart, piece by piece. She went weak and began to cough, spitting out a clot of bloody foam, yet she kept whispering:

  “Sif, don’t go, my dear, please! No, I beg you!”

  “My son, come back, come back to us. Sob”

  “I need you! Your sister needs you! Your MOTHER needs you!”

  “Please, please, please…”

  ================

  {Somewhere in an unknown space, filled with soundless darkness}

  A small body lay in stillness. No tremor. No pulse. Not even the faintest trace of breath.

  There was nothing around but impenetrable darkness.

  He felt no pain or fear. He felt nothin. He couldn’t move ort scream. Only a weak, sowh voice echoed in hismind, mayber a thought ora fading memory.y.

  ‘Darkness. Again.’

  ‘So familiar. So close. So calm.’

  ‘There is nothing here. Only the absence of light.’

  Fragments of memory emerged and vanished like air bubbles:

  ‘Where am I? Who am I? Did an “I” ever exist?’

  ‘I remember being stabbed with a dagger.’

  ‘Wait. Where is the dagger? Where is my chest?’

  He tried to move, to act in any way, but the darkness stopped him every time.g.

  ‘Ah, yes… Darkness. There is only darkness.’

  ‘It has always been this way, and it always will be.’

  ‘I was born here and raised here. This is where I’ll remain.’

  Chaotic thoughts surfaced at the edge of his mind. He felt helpless, but Grey still tried to resist, almost without thinking:

  ‘What was that? What were those memories?’

  ‘I remember the scent of hair. Warm hands. Such pleasant sensations.’

  ‘Was that a delusion? Madness?’

  ‘Did I make all of it up?’

  ‘And now it’s time to return to reality?’

  ‘Yes, that’s it. None of this can be real. I must return to the darkness…’

  “My son, come back, come back to us…” Grey heard a quiet, indistinct whisper that made him flinch.

  ‘No! No! No! I don’t want the darkness. I don’t want to go back. I want my mom. Her warm embrace.’

  He tried again and again. To do at least something. But the darkness was absolute.

  He realized it was all pointless. Any attempt was doomed to fail. Then why try so hard? Why strive for something that was simply impossible? Wouldn’t it be better to just give up and drift with the current?

  He couldn’t even see his own hands, couldn’t feel his body. So what could he possibly change?

  And then, just when he had completely given up, something stirred deep within the darkness.

  A furious roar broke the silence, and the whole space turned red.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “DON’T YOU DARE, YOU LITTLE SHIT. DON’T YOU DARE GIVE UP!”

  Grey felt a piercing gaze on him, ancient and full of hatred.

  Everything around him changed.

  The ground beneath him split open, the dry stone cracking. Blood seeped from the cracks, smelling of iron, rot, and sulfur.

  Dozens, maybe hundreds, of human shapes rose from the ground and reached for him.

  Faceless people. Twisted shadows with empty eye sockets. Rotting mouths whispering calls of death. Fingers covered with lumps of flesh.

  The creatures moved with jerky, puppet-like motions, trembling with fear. Their knees creaked with every step, but they kept coming.

  Coming for him. They were afraid. But they came.

  “They pray for you, Grey.”

  “Their steps are for you.”

  “Their pain is your call” a distorted voice thundered in his head as he looked around.

  Beneath the boy’s feet, directly above him, a humanoid form began to take shape, woven from smoke and shadow. Its twisted and mangled body slowly straightened, as if released from eternal confinement.

  It was shackled.

  Thick chains, glowing with divine light, bound its chest, neck, wrists, and jaw. They hissed where they touched its skin, leaving burns of light upon the darkness.

  And yet…

  It moved. And it spoke. Directly into his mind.

  “FIGHT, BASTARD. No matter how, no matter why! FIGHT.”

  With every word, something deep inside the boy woke up, as if this being were an inseparable part of him. It was him, but also something strange, like a parasite.

  “Do you want to see your mother? Maybe your sister?”

  “You must fight.”

  “Or… maybe you don’t love them at all?”

  The voice was harsh and full of venom. As if to mock him, Grey heard his mother’s painful sobs.

  “Don’t go, my dear, please, no, I beg you, Grey, come back, come back to me, come back to your sister. I need you, my son, please, please, please…” Her voice broke with agony, yet Grey recognized it instantly.

  So familiar, yet so distant and illusory. It caused far more torment than the taunts of the humanoid demon.

  “AAAAAAA!” Grey screamed, surrendering to madness, “MOM!”

  That scream finally woke something deep inside him.

  The boy’s eyes turned black, deep and empty. Chains of light shot toward him, but Grey ignored them completely.

  Like a madman, he lunged toward the voice. He tore through and shoved aside the creatures that stood in his way. The very world trembled under his fury.

  The further he went, the more pain he felt. It was agony, but Grey ignored it.

  He didn’t know where he was going or what he hoped to find, he only knew he couldn’t stop. His mind clung to the muffled cry of his mother.

  ‘I must fight! I will reach the voice, no matter the cost. I won’t let her suffer. I won’t! I WON’T!’

  ==========

  Catherine sat holding her son’s bloodied body.

  “Adam, Allaric, Fulvius…” Her thoughts were sharp as knives. “I… will never forgive you…”

  But those thoughts were interrupted by a quiet cough.

  “I DON’T WANT TO!” shouted the wounded Grey, spitting up the last of the blood.

  Catherine froze. For a moment, everything seemed to slow down. It felt as if she had gone from the depths of hell to paradise in an instant.

  It was him. Her son. Her boy.

  He was alive. He was breathing!

  “My son!!! You’re alive..! You’re alive!” she cried in joy, as if she herself had risen from the dead.

  “It’s okay… it’s okay… Mommy’s here. Mommy’s with you. Mommy will protect you. Listen to me, don’t fall asleep. Keep breathing. That’s it, that’s it, good boy.”

  The potions and magic finally took effect. His heart began to beat again, slowly but steadily. The blood, which had poured endlessly a moment ago, stopped flowing from the wound.

  A bright, living smile spread across Catherine’s face. It felt as if hope had filled the whole Acropolis.

  But as soon as she knew her son would survive, her expression changed. It went from gentle to cold and merciless.

  Her fingers moved quickly, tracing strange runes in the air. Protective spells activated one after another.

  “His safety—above all else.”

  And her gaze… the way she swept it across those around her was so terrifying it could make even the fiercest demon tremble.

  “Cassia, start the emergency evacuation plan now. Spare no one! Use all agents!” Catherine’s voice was sharp and cold, full of steel and anger.

  “Yes, ma’am!” the maid replied, disappearing into the shadows of the Acropolis.

  Only a second later, she was already behind Eve.

  The strike was precise, lethal, lightning-fast. The holy daughter of Apollo didn’t even have time to register the threat before she was forced to release Grace.

  Though Eve was a Holy Sage, like Cassia, she rarely fought for her life. Her combat experience left much to be desired.

  Cassia was a veteran—fast, precise, and ruthless. For her, fighting was as natural as breathing. Someone like Eve didn’t stand a chance.

  Eve only managed, instinctively, to raise a shield of light to avoid being killed on the spot. But it cost her control—over the situation, and over Grace.

  Cassia rolled to the side and caught the unconscious princess. In the same instant, she vanished into the shadows and reappeared at her mistress’s feet.

  Breathing heavily, her face deathly pale, she lowered Grace into Catherine’s arms.

  Jumping across the shadows had drained all her mana. She was completely powerless now. The maid was out of the fight, but she felt no regret. She had trusted her Lady completely.

  The moment the unconscious Grace appeared on the altar, Catherine raised her hand toward the sky.

  A black streak split the horizon. It was a signal spell.

  And in that very instant—everything changed. Several noble patricians and matrons who had been hiding behind the columns launched a merciless attack. Their movements were precise, coordinated. One drew a dagger hidden beneath his toga. Another slashed a guard’s throat. A third hurled a sharpened hairpin straight into the eye of the nearest centurion.

  Catherine revealed all her cards. Agents she had embedded over the years. A secret network that had slept until this very day. She chose to sacrifice everything to open a path for escape.

  Chaos returned to the Acropolis. No one managed to react. By the time Adam’s allies began to act, it was already too late. They held the advantage in numbers, yet the strongest among them could not intervene. All their attention was fixed on the primary threat—the Sky-dweller who had decided to defy a god.

  “Catherine, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Adam roared. “Did you not hear me? This child is dangerous. He is a child of darkness!!! There is none of our blood in him! Look at his hair! He is not our son!”

  “Listen to me—prophecies are no joke! The Sibyls vanished to bring it to pass. He is destined to destroy HUMANITY! Not a province. Not a country. HUMANITY. Do you want to support genocide?!”

  “Heh… heh… heh… You’re talking about prophecy? About empires? About humanity?” Catherine burst into hysterical laughter.

  “TO HELL WITH ALL OF IT! TO HELL WITH THE PROPHECY. TO HELL WITH THE EMPIRE. TO HELL WITH MY HATED BASTARD OF A HUSBAND. TO HELL WITH GOD. TO HELL WITH THIS ENTIRE DAMNED WORLD!”

  “If anything else happens to my family today, I will personally see to the fulfillment of that accursed prophecy.”

  “Listen carefully, Adam,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

  “I swear here and now: if you don’t get out of my way, I will dedicate my life to hunting down and destroying every piece of shit in the Province of Light. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? Or is your vaunted humanity afraid of a cripple whose magical core you broke with your own hands?”

  The words burned her lips. Calling her own son a “cripple,” reminding him of the tragedy, and admitting he was a threat was unbearable. But Catherine knew she had to do what the situation required.

  She understood that escaping the provincial capital with two children in her arms, one of them wounded, was nearly impossible. And so every word had to be calculated: not to beg, not to plead, but to command.

  To press. To threaten. To do whatever was necessary, while at the same time giving a reason to submit.

  Yes, she had the biggest fist here. But a Skyborn is not a god. She understood her own condition better than anyone. If Adam and the Church chose to use every means at their disposal, she would not be able to save the children from the trap their home had become. That was why she declared Grey a cripple.

  “Adam, I’ll say this one last time,” her voice rang with tension. “Let me leave peacefully and live the life of an ordinary mortal with my son. I promise I’ll return for vengeance much later. You might even have time to prepare.”

  “Or… you can try to stop me, and I’ll try to escape. But I swear, I will level your entire capital to the ground along the way. You know perfectly well that I’m capable of it. Choose. Now. If you don’t step back in five seconds, I will begin the slaughter.”

  Magic gathered around her as she drew her slender sword, ready to fight at any moment.

  Adam hesitated. Today had gone completely off script. Initially, he had only intended to confirm that Grey possessed the element of darkness.

  Once that was clear, and considering that night had fallen at his birth and his hair was unnaturally black, Adam was almost certain—about ninety percent—that Grey was a child of darkness.

  His duty had been simple: report the situation to the Empire's capital and await further instructions.

  But no. Apollo’s intervention shattered everything. He had been ordered to act.

  But what exactly could he do?

  The entire Church had been set in motion. Adam, whose position as viceroy depended directly on that Church’s patronage, had no luxury of choice.

  Somewhere deep down, he hoped Catherine would listen to reason. A threat to the annihilation of humanity couldn’t be treated lightly, right? Right?!

  Adam found himself caught between hammer and anvil.

  He saw the blazing madness in Catherine’s eyes. She had already crossed the line. Neither divine will nor fear of consequences restrained her any longer. And that was the most terrifying part.

  He knew how powerful Skyborn were, and this woman was even more dangerous. Fighting her would risk everything: the capital, his reputation, and his life. Even if he won, the consequences would be huge—hundreds or thousands dead, magical chaos, and worst of all, loss of control.

  Catherine was not bluffing. If cornered, she would truly destroy half the city.

  But yielding meant openly defying Apollo, allowing a threat to humanity to live. Showing weakness before his brethren, who were already watching him like vultures.

  Any decision would lead to catastrophe. Any mistake would be laid squarely at his feet.

  Cardinals, patricians, brothers. Every gaze was fixed on him. They were waiting for his decision.

  He cast one last look at Catherine—searching, almost pleading. Perhaps she could still hear the voice of reason. Perhaps there was at least a drop of doubt left within her.

  But no.

  What stood before him was neither a mother nor a wife. It was a natural disaster. In her eyes burned absolute resolve—mad, sacrificial, unyielding. The slightest provocation, and she would explode.

  He made the decision.

  “Let them go,” he forced out. His voice remained steady, almost detached, but it took effort. “There’s no point in being excessively cruel. A cripple poses no threat to either the nation or humanity. Allaric has already used the power of God to neutralize him.”

  Silence floated in the air. Adam endured the sharp, venomous stares of the crowd. He knew this decision carried consequences. But it was better than living with ruins instead of a capital.

  He had not chosen mercy. He had chosen the less evil.