Visionless

"…I'm not mad, just tell me what happened. Bara? Why did you hurt that boy?" her father asked, his voice calm yet tinged with concern.

Bara fidgeted, her small hands clenching the hem of her shirt as she avoided his gaze. Her father crouched down in front of her, his tone becoming more serious.

"Bara, look at me. Why did you hurt him?"

"I'm sorry…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "I won't do it again, I promise."

Her father scoffed, shaking his head. "Bara, tell me why. What did he say to you?"

Tears welled in her eyes as her defenses crumbled. "He… he told me I'll never be a hunter. That I'll never be like you… or the rest of them," she sniffled, her voice cracking.

A wide grin broke across her father's face, and then he laughed—a loud, hearty laugh that echoed in the clearing.

"Haha! And you punched him, right? Right in the face? That's my girl!" he exclaimed, pride in his voice as he clapped her on the shoulder.

Bara looked up at him in surprise, her tears momentarily forgotten.

"Listen, Bara. Tomorrow, we'll go on a hunt together," he said, his tone now light and whimsical. "I want you to see how hunters act, to understand why we hunt. Okay?"

Her face lit up at his words, her tears drying as hope replaced her guilt. "Really? I get to go with you?"

Her father nodded. "Now come on, Nana's cooking your favorite meal. Let's head back to the village."

Bara grinned mischievously, darting ahead. "Okay… last one there gets the intestines!"

Her father laughed but didn't chase after her, watching his daughter's boundless energy with a fond smile.

_________________________________

"Bara, pay attention," her father whispered, crouching low as they stalked through the dense forest. "Look at Uncle Mio over there… see how he's holding his spear? Make sure to remember it."

Bara nodded, though her eyes kept wandering. The forest felt alive, every rustle of leaves and distant birdcall both thrilling and unnerving. Her father's words barely registered as she marveled at their surroundings.

"Bara, stop daydreaming," her father hissed, his tone sharper now. He pointed toward a shadow in the distance. "Look over there."

Her eyes followed his finger, widening as she saw it: a beast larger than anything she had ever imagined. It had massive hands, each as big as her entire body, teeth that could rip through wood, and fur that blended seamlessly with the forest backdrop.

"That's a Kildo," her father whispered, his voice barely audible. "If you see one, but it hasn't seen you, stay quiet and don't move. They'll wander off eventually. But if it sees you…" He paused, locking eyes with her. "Play dead. Otherwise, you'll be its food. Got that, Bara?"

She nodded shakily, her fear freezing her in place as the creature's hulking form shifted slightly. Her father noticed her trembling and leaned in closer. With a quick motion, he brought his hand to his mouth and let out a sharp, birdlike sound: "Krra, krra."

The sound snapped her out of her fear just as the Kildo's gaze turned toward them.

Her heart stopped as the monster took one step. Then another.

Fwoosh!

A spear struck the Kildo's back, and the beast let out a guttural roar, spinning to locate the attacker. Before it could act, another spear embedded itself in its arm. The creature snarled, ready to charge, but its legs were suddenly bound by a thick rope. It stumbled, collapsing with a heavy thud, and with one final throw, Uncle Mio's spear pierced its heart.

The forest fell silent once more.

Her father stood, holding the rope that had tripped the beast. He turned to her, grinning.

"Bara, the best way to hunt a strong animal is to never give it a chance to fight back. Just keep hitting it until it dies. And the more people hitting it, the better!"

Bara emerged from their hiding spot, her heart still racing. She watched as the hunting team retrieved their spears, checking to ensure the creature was truly dead.

"Bara, come over here! I've got something for you," Uncle Mio called, waving her over.

In his hands was a gleaming knife, its blade sharp and pristine.

"This is for you," he said with a smile. "If you want to be a hunter, you'll need a good knife. Now, when we get back to the village, Nana and I are gonna teach you how to use it—how to skin, butcher, and prepare everything properly. Got it?"

Bara took the knife, her eyes shining with excitement. "Okay! I won't disappoint you, Uncle!"

______________________

"Bara… what happened? Why did you push that boy?"

Her father's voice was low, disappointment etched into every word as he knelt before her. Bara couldn't meet his eyes, her hands twisting the fabric of her tunic as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"He nearly died falling off that ledge! I thought I taught you better than this…" He grabbed her hands gently but firmly, his expression a mix of frustration and concern.

"Bara, you're going to be an adult soon. You can't keep doing things like this." His grip tightened slightly, as if to ground her in the seriousness of his words. "I won't always be there to protect you. Do you understand? Promise me you'll do better from now on."

Bara sniffled, her voice barely audible through her tears. "I… I promise, Papa. I'll do better."

Her father sighed, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Good. Now let's go home. Nana's waiting."

______________________

"Oh, hey there, little girl! You mind coming over here real quick? We're kinda stuck. Do you know where the nearest village is?"

The voice came from a short, stout man dressed in silk—a rare luxury that glimmered unnaturally under the forest's muted light. His mustache was thick and meticulously combed, and though his face wore a genial smile, something about his eyes unsettled Bara.

Bara hesitated, gripping the small knife her uncle had given her during her first hunt. She was alone, far from her village, and she had been warned not to trust strangers.

Still, her father's lessons echoed in her mind: "Be cautious, but never let fear control you."

She stepped closer, her posture stiff. "Nearest village? Yeah… it's a few hours that way." She pointed through the trees, hoping that would end the encounter.

The man grinned wider, revealing teeth too perfect, too polished. "Ah, wonderful! Thank you, little miss. And what's your name?"

"...Bara," she said reluctantly.

"Bara! What a charming name! I'm Henrik. You're quite the brave one to be out here all alone." He tipped an imaginary hat to her. "Well, I won't keep you any longer, little huntress. Safe travels."

Bara nodded curtly and left quickly, her instincts prickling. She could feel his eyes lingering on her back until she disappeared into the trees.

______________________

"My, what a nice little village you have! Haha, look at all the people here—so lively, so bustling! I do love company!" Henrik exclaimed as he strolled through the heart of Bara's village, his voice dripping with charm.

The townsfolk, initially wary, seemed to warm to him quickly. His entourage—a group of lean, muscular men with rough hands and polished manners—unloaded a cart packed with wares.

"Hey, boss, where do we put the cart?" one of his lackeys asked.

"Over there is fine," Henrik replied with a dismissive wave. "And the cages?"

Bara froze at the word. Cages?

She cast a glance toward the cart. The covered canvas concealed most of its contents, but she caught a glimpse of something metallic beneath the folds. Her stomach churned.

"Ah, this village truly is something!" Henrik continued, spreading his arms as if to embrace the whole scene. "Strong hunters, fine women, adorable children—just perfect, perfect!"

Bara stood at a distance, her unease growing with every word. Henrik's voice was too sweet, his laugh too sharp, like the bark of a vorst—a cunning forest predator known for luring prey into traps.

While the rest of the village warmed to Henrik, her father did not. He watched Henrik and his men with a cold, assessing gaze, his jaw tight. Later that evening, he pulled Bara aside.

"Stay away from them," he said firmly. "Henrik and his men… they're trouble."

_____________________

"BARA! BARA! RUN!"

Her father's voice roared over the crackle of flames and the piercing screams of her village. Bara stumbled as he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into the forest. Behind them, the once-peaceful village was a nightmare of fire and chaos.

"You have to run as far as you can, Bara! Go to the nearest town and ask for help! Tell them the Holy Empire sent slave traders!"

"Papa, I—"

"GO!" he barked, his voice breaking with desperation.

Tears streamed down Bara's face as she clutched his hand. "But… what about you?"

Her father knelt before her, gripping her shoulders. "Bara, listen to me. Remember what I taught you. Be a shield, not a spear. Protect and defend, don't rush in. Promise me you'll live. Papa loves you. Now run!"

He shoved her forward, and Bara stumbled, her legs moving before her mind caught up. She glanced back only once. Her father was standing tall, spear in hand, charging back toward the burning village.

Trapped

Bara ran. She ran until her lungs burned and her legs ached. But just as she reached the edge of the forest, her blood turned cold.

A figure stood in her path.

"Oh, if it isn't little Bara," Henrik said, his voice oozing with mock delight. He tilted his head, his predatory smile stretching wider. "I was looking for you!"

Bara's heart hammered in her chest. She turned to run, but her legs wouldn't move. Panic set in as she looked down—her feet were sinking into the ground, the earth swallowing them whole.

"Ah, ah, ah! No running now, dear," Henrik said, tapping a slender wand against his palm. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched her struggle. "I can't have you tattling on us, now can I?"

"Let me go!" Bara screamed, tears streaming down her face as she clawed at the dirt encasing her legs.

Henrik chuckled darkly. "Oh, sorry, my dear. That's not an option. You see, I think you'll fetch a very high price." He leaned closer, his breath cold against her cheek. "Such spirit, such fire. The buyers will love you."

He straightened, his laughter echoing through the silent forest. "Meeting you must have been a blessing from the goddess herself!"

Bara's vision blurred as desperation overwhelmed her. She screamed again, but this time, no one answered.

___________________

"Father, Father! I want that one!"

The shrill, excited voice of a child pierced the market's noise. Bara flinched at the sound, her gaze snapping toward the source. A girl, no older than seven, with fiery red hair cascading in perfect waves down her back and striking green eyes like polished emeralds, was pointing directly at her.

The girl's dress, an exquisite piece of craftsmanship adorned with delicate embroidery and pearls, swayed as she jumped up and down. The sight of her, so full of joy, was jarring against the backdrop of the filthy slave market.

"Are you sure, Leah?" her father asked, his voice a mixture of indulgence and caution. The man, tall and broad-shouldered, radiated an air of authority softened by his gentle tone. His finely tailored attire and gold-trimmed cloak marked him as nobility.

"Yes, Father! I'll take care of her, I promise! I'll feed her, and water her, and take her on walks. We can be best friends! Please, please, Father!" Leah clasped her hands together, her wide, pleading eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

The man chuckled, his stern expression melting into one of adoration. "Of course, anything for my princess." He turned to the slaver, his smile vanishing. "The girl. Name your price."

Adjusting to a Cage Without Bars

"Hey, hey, you! What's your name? Come on, tell me!"

Leah's bright voice snapped Bara out of her daze. She'd been standing stiffly in the middle of an opulent bedroom, unsure of what to do or say. The soft rugs and ornate furnishings were a far cry from the cold, dirty cage she had been in just hours ago.

"My name is—" Bara started hesitantly, but Leah cut her off with a giggle.

"Actually, never mind! I know! I'll give you a name! How about… Cheka? Yes, that's perfect! Cheka, come on, I wanna play!" Leah's tiny hand wrapped around Bara's wrist as she dragged her toward a collection of dolls arranged in a circle.

Bara blinked, bewildered. Leah, the beloved princess of the Holy Empire, was treating her like a companion rather than a slave. For a moment, Bara felt a flicker of hope.

Days turned into weeks. Bara followed Leah everywhere, from the palace gardens to extravagant galas. Leah was adored by all, her titles whispered reverently: Leah the Kind, Leah the Benevolent, Leah the Angel. Wherever she went, people sang her praises.

But the illusion of kindness began to crack. Leah refused to listen when Bara spoke, dismissing her words with childlike indifference. The adults around Leah treated Bara worse—never addressing her directly, their eyes filled with judgment, as though she were an animal. Even when Leah bought Bara fine dresses and accessories, the stares never stopped.

Leah was different, Bara told herself. Leah was kind. But doubt began to creep in.

_______________________________

"Mmmph! Mmmph!"

Muffled cries echoed in the damp cave as Bara and Leah struggled against the ropes binding them together. The air was thick with the metallic stench of blood, and strange symbols painted the walls, glowing faintly in the flickering torchlight.

"Leah, stop squirming!" Bara hissed, her voice low but urgent.

"I'm not squirming, you are!" Leah shot back, her voice muffled by the cloth tied around her mouth.

Bara ignored her, scanning the cavern for any chance of escape. Before she could formulate a plan, footsteps echoed through the cave. The cultists had returned.

"My brothers!" the leader proclaimed, his voice reverberating off the walls. "It is time! Time for us to ascend! Time to claim what is rightfully ours! Time to become gods!"

Bara's blood ran cold as she and Leah were dragged to the center of the room and placed within a circle drawn in blood. The symbols on the ground began to shift and swirl, moving unnaturally as the chanting grew louder.

"Hear me, oh demon! Hear me, oh devil! I beseech you—grant my request, and these souls are yours!" the leader cried, raising his arms as the circle glowed with a menacing red light.

The ground trembled, and from the center of the circle, a figure emerged.

"Alright, alright, what's all this noise?"

The voice was smooth, almost bored. A young, petite figure stepped into the dim light. Their horns curved elegantly, black as night, and their skin was as pale as freshly fallen snow. Crimson lips curved into a smirk, and their eyes glowed like embers.

"Ugh," the demon groaned, rubbing their temples. "Can't you guys summon me at a reasonable hour? I was having my beauty sleep."

The cult leader fell to his knees. "Oh, great Demon of Lust! Hear my plea! These sacrifices are yours to command!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the demon yawned. "Just call me Sara. Let's get this over with."

Bara's breath quickened as terror gripped her. Are we going to be eaten? Enslaved? She yanked at her bindings, managing to pull the cloth from her mouth.

Sara's glowing eyes flicked toward her, a wicked grin spreading across their face. "Well, well. Let's see what we have here."

With a snap of her fingers, the cloth around Leah's mouth vanished.

"How dare you!" Leah screeched. "Do you know who I am? I command you to release me this instant!"

Sara placed a finger over Leah's lips, silencing her. "Not bad. Now for the quiet one…"

Sara turned to Bara, their gaze piercing. Bara's mind raced, her father's stories echoing in her memory.

"Demon!" Bara shouted, her voice trembling but firm. "I have an offer for you. Take these cultists. Their souls are more valuable than ours. Surely a handful of devoted souls is better than just two."

Sara's grin widened. "Clever little fox. I like you. What's your name?"

"Bara," she replied, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest.

"Well, Bara," Sara said, standing tall. "You've earned yourself a deal."

With a snap of her fingers, the cultists screamed as the ground opened beneath them, swallowing them whole.

___________________

As the dust settled, Leah turned to Bara, her face pale. "Cheka, help me! Protect me! That's what pets are supposed to do, isn't it?"

Bara froze, the words cutting deeper than any blade. Pet. That's all I ever was to her.

"Demon," Bara said, her voice cold and steady. "I want to make another deal."

Sara tilted her head, intrigued. "Oh? Do tell."

"Kill Leah. The girl with the red hair. In exchange, my soul is yours."

Leah gasped. "Cheka, you can't! You're my—"

"Enough," Bara snapped.

Sara laughed, the sound echoing ominously. "You know what, Bara? I like you. Your name sounds a lot like mine, so I'll do this one for free."

Sara reached out, plunging her hand into Leah's skull. With a swift motion, she ended the princess's life, pulling something glowing and ethereal from within her.

"Oh, here," Sara said, snapping her fingers. Bara's skin burned, agony rippling through her as her olive complexion was replaced by charred, scale-like skin.

"This will let you become her," Sara explained with a smirk. "Kill her family for me, and we'll call it even."

Bara stared at her transformed reflection in a nearby pool of water. The pain was gone, replaced by cold determination. "I agree."

The Rise of Bara the Tyrant

Bara, now donning the skin of Princess Leah, stepped through the grand gates of the Imperial Palace. Every bow, every curtsy from the servants and nobles who once looked down on her, sent a thrill through her veins. They didn't know. They couldn't. The charred-scaled monster beneath the mask of their beloved angel remained hidden, but inside, Bara seethed with righteous fury.

She bided her time, playing her role to perfection, earning their trust and love. But when the time came, the facade cracked. One by one, she struck.

The First Strike

It began with the Empress, Leah's gentle and loving stepmother. "Leah, darling, what's wrong? You've seemed so distant lately."

Bara tilted her head, her lips curling into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Nothing, Mother. You've always been so kind to me."

The Empress smiled warmly, reaching to embrace her. But as her arms wrapped around Bara, a blade slipped into her chest. The Empress gasped, stumbling backward as blood bloomed across her silken gown.

Bara crouched beside her as the life drained from her eyes. "Kindness doesn't erase what you let happen. You're just as guilty as the rest."

The palace mourned, but Bara played her part, shedding crocodile tears for the mother she'd "lost."

Death of an Emperor

Days turned into weeks, and Bara's vengeance unfolded with surgical precision. Servants whispered of the sudden deaths plaguing the imperial family, but none dared to voice their suspicions. Finally, it was time for the Emperor.

He was seated in his private study when Bara entered, holding a decanter of his favorite wine. "Father, I brought you something special tonight."

The Emperor looked up, weariness in his eyes. "Ah, Leah, my darling. Thank you. You've been such a comfort in these troubling times."

He poured himself a glass, raising it in a toast. "To you, my shining light."

Bara watched, a small, cruel smile playing on her lips as he drank. Moments later, he choked, his hands clawing at his throat. The poison worked quickly, and yet Bara wasn't satisfied. She stepped forward, drawing a dagger from her sleeve and driving it into his neck.

The Emperor's eyes widened in shock. "Leah... what... what are you doing?" he rasped, blood spilling over his lips.

Bara leaned in close, her voice a whisper of malice. "I'm not Leah. I never was. Your precious daughter is dead, just like you."

She pulled the blade free and watched as the life drained from his body, savoring every second.

The Monster Ascends

With the Emperor's death, Bara assumed the throne. The nobles, cowed by her ruthlessness and charisma, dared not oppose her. Yet, ruling the empire wasn't enough. Bara found herself intoxicated by the power she wielded.

The mask of Leah's benevolence slipped further as she turned her wrath toward the nobles who once fawned over her. Their betrayals, their whispered disdain, all became fuel for her vengeance. She punished them mercilessly, inventing new ways to humiliate and control them.

The court grew tense with fear. Whispers of "Leah the Tyrant" began to replace "Leah the Benevolent."

A World Without Chains

One night, disguised as a commoner, Bara wandered through the slums where she'd once been sold. The memories clawed at her, the stench of desperation and cruelty still fresh in her mind.

She returned to the palace with a new purpose: to dismantle the system that had once enslaved her. It wasn't out of altruism, but a desire to see those who profited from others' suffering broken beneath her heel.

It took years, but Bara succeeded. Slavery was abolished, the slavers themselves executed publicly. Bara attended each execution personally, standing at the front with a chilling smile as the blade fell. The crowd cheered for their queen's mercy and justice, but Bara only felt satisfaction in their terror.

The Weight of Power

Power, Bara learned, was a double-edged sword. She reveled in control, but it fed a darker hunger within her. Each decision, each life taken, only made her thirst for more.

Her methods grew crueler, her punishments more inventive. Nobles who displeased her found their estates seized, their families reduced to beggars. When rebellions arose, she crushed them without hesitation, ensuring that the survivors bore scars to remind them of her wrath.

Yet, even as she solidified her grip on the empire, a hollowness gnawed at her.

The Little Prince

It was during one of her covert walks through the city that she saw him: a boy of no more than six, dressed in rags but with eyes sharp and defiant. He was trying to protect a group of smaller children from a guard who accused them of stealing bread.

The sight gave Bara pause. There was something familiar in his defiance, in the way he stood tall despite his vulnerability.

She approached the scene, her royal guards parting the crowd. The boy's gaze didn't waver as he looked up at her.

"What's your name, little one?" she asked, her voice soft but commanding.

"Why do you care?" he shot back, his small fists clenched.

Bara smirked, her curiosity piqued. "Because you remind me of someone I used to know."

She ordered the guards to release the boy and his companions, but as they walked away, Bara found herself unable to shake the encounter.

For the first time in years, she wondered: was it possible for her to be more than the monster she'd become?

The Queen of Shadows

Though she resolved to rule with a semblance of justice, the darkness within Bara never truly left. She wielded fear as a weapon, ensuring loyalty through terror. Her hunger for control only grew, but she began to question whether it was power she truly sought—or redemption for the girl she used to be.

The empire feared her, but they also loved her, in their own twisted way. Bara had become a paradox: a tyrant who ended suffering, a queen who saved lives by destroying others. And as she stared at her reflection in the gilded mirrors of the palace, she wondered if she would ever escape the monster she had become.

Recently, Leah found herself smiling again—something that had become rare in her life of bloodstained triumphs and hollow victories. This time, the smile wasn't born of cruelty or vengeance, but of a peculiar boy named Adam. He had stumbled into her life, seeking help with wide eyes and trembling hands. Yet beneath that innocence was something else entirely, something sharp.

Adam was clever, too clever for his age. He had a tongue that could weave lies like silk and a mind that could outmaneuver even her most trusted advisors. Leah noticed it right away, and it fascinated her.

Her darkness whispered when she looked at him. Break him. Own him. Shape him into something that's yours and yours alone. And Leah? She wanted it too.

"Oh, Adam," she mused one evening, watching the boy intently from her throne as he nervously recounted his latest exploits, "you're such a curious little thing. So fragile, yet so... delightful."

Adam flinched under her gaze, but he didn't falter. He always stood his ground with her, even when he must have been terrified. That only made her want to toy with him more.

Leah had made it a game. She would throw impossible tasks at Adam, tasks designed to overwhelm and humiliate him, but every time he rose to the challenge, surprising her with his ingenuity.

"You're smarter than most of my advisors, you know," Leah said with a coy smile one day, tilting his chin up with a single finger. "But you'll never be smarter than me, little prince. Remember that."

Adam said nothing, but his defiant glare sent a thrill through her.

When Adam succeeded in one of her "tests," she rewarded him with lavish gifts: golden trinkets, silken clothes, and rare delicacies. But she never let him forget who held the leash.

"Do you like it?" she asked one evening, watching as Adam hesitantly admired a jeweled bracelet she'd presented to him.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied carefully.

"Good," Leah cooed, leaning close enough that her breath brushed against his ear. "Because you'll only keep it as long as you amuse me. If you ever bore me, Adam..." Her voice trailed off, sweet and venomous.

Adam swallowed hard but didn't back down. "Then I guess I'll have to keep amusing you, Your Majesty."

Leah laughed, a sound that was equal parts delight and menace. Oh, how perfect he is, she thought.

She called him her "little prince," a title that made him bristle but one she used with a sickly sweet fondness. In truth, she wasn't sure what she wanted from him. Part of her wanted to break him completely, to see him bow before her and acknowledge her as his master. But another part—a softer, more vulnerable part—wanted him as a companion, someone who could stand beside her without fear, someone who wasn't just another pawn in her game.

She began to test him in different ways, introducing him to the shadowy parts of her world. She watched how he reacted to her cruelty, to her dominion over others, and to the blood that inevitably stained her hands.

"You could learn so much from me, Adam," Leah said one evening, her voice low and almost tender. "You're already clever, but imagine what you could become if you embraced the darkness like I have."

Adam's eyes met hers, wide and questioning. "Is that what you want? For me to be like you?"

Leah paused, surprised by the question. Did she? She didn't answer, instead brushing a stray lock of his hair from his face with a touch that was almost motherly.

"Stay with me, Adam," she said, her tone soft but laced with iron. "Be mine. Let me mold you into something extraordinary."

Leah's fascination with Adam was as twisted as it was genuine. She cared for him, in her own way, but it was a care rooted in possession and control. She didn't just want Adam to survive—she wanted him to thrive under her influence, to become a reflection of her own power and brilliance.

And yet, for all her dominance, there was something about Adam that unnerved her. His sharp wit, his unwavering spirit... it reminded her of the girl she used to be, before the darkness had consumed her.

Leah smiled again as she watched him, her little prince, her plaything, her equal in some strange, twisted way. She would keep him close, no matter what. Whether as a friend, a pet, or something in between, Adam would belong to her.

__________________

"Leah… when will you help me? I thought we had a deal," Adam said, his voice strained but steady as he stared at the queen. For weeks, he had remained by her side, his patience eroding with each passing day. With Ren gone, traveling to the Has Republic, Adam found himself alone with Leah far more often than he would have liked.

He endured her games, her whims, all because she had made a promise—a promise to help him return home. A place where he could finally bury what was left of himself, where he could rest. But her promises had been like fleeting shadows, always out of reach.

"Leah, our deal… you said you would help me. That you would—" Adam's words faltered, his gaze hardening. His eyes, once brimming with the innocence of a child, were now something else entirely: weary, desperate, and laced with an edge of something... primal.

Leah, lounging on her throne with the ease of a predator basking after a feast, tilted her head and smiled faintly. "Adam," she said, her tone lilting yet sharp as a blade, "come."

Her command carried more than authority; it carried power. Adam's body betrayed him instantly, his legs moving without consent, drawn forward like a marionette to its master.

"Sit," she ordered, and once again, his body obeyed, lowering itself to the cold floor before her.

For a moment, Adam felt the weight of her control pressing down on him like an iron cage. But then, something shifted. Deep within the recesses of his mind, something ancient stirred—a voice that was both alien and achingly familiar.

"You found me... I will return what's yours. You found me... I will return what's yours. Ours... yours... Find me."

The words reverberated through his skull, not in sound but in sensation, a haunting rhythm that made his pulse quicken. His hands trembled, his breath hitched, and then—clarity.

Adam's body stopped. He stood, defying her will.

Leah's eyes widened slightly in surprise, a rare crack in her unshakable composure. But her shock quickly melted into something else: delight. Her lips curled into a grin, sharp and predatory, as if she had been waiting for this moment all along.

"Good," she murmured, her voice a low purr. "Only the strong are worthy."

Adam clenched his fists, his mind reeling. The voice—that voice—still echoed faintly, as though it was watching, waiting for him to act.

"Now, Adam," Leah continued, her tone sweetly venomous, "you wanted my help, didn't you? Tell me, what is it you truly desire? Speak your wish, little prince. I'm listening."

Her words dripped with mockery, but beneath them was genuine curiosity, tinged with something darker. Leah's gaze bore into him, searching for cracks, for the faintest glimpse of what lay beneath his defiance.

Adam met her eyes, unblinking. The voice whispered again, clearer this time:

"Claim what is yours. Take it back. Or let her take everything."

Leah's grin widened as she watched the conflict flicker across his face. She leaned forward, her hands resting lightly on the arms of her throne. "Go on, Adam. I'm waiting."

But for the first time, Leah felt the faintest hint of unease. That voice—whatever it was—felt closer now, like a shadow that didn't belong to either of them. And in Adam's eyes, she saw something she hadn't expected: not fear, not anger, but a quiet, simmering power that wasn't hers to command.

For once, Leah wondered if she had miscalculated. And the thought only made her smile grow sharper. Oh, how fun this will be.

Adam's body trembled as the world around him shattered. The walls of the queen's chamber, the soft bedding beneath him, the reality he knew—everything fragmented. In their place, an overwhelming expanse of jade-colored water stretched endlessly, swirling in unnatural currents. Towering chains, bigger than entire planets, curled around him, their metallic forms twisting and writhing like serpents in the depths of an abyss. Each movement seemed to tear the fabric of reality, warping it into something beyond comprehension. Adam could hear them—thoughts, but they weren't his. Alien, hungry, cold.

"NO!" Adam screamed, his voice breaking. "NO, NO, GET OUT OF MY HEAD, YOU FISH-FUCK! WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?!" His hands flailed, knocking against the twisting waters, the chains, trying to push back against something he couldn't even see.

It was then that it appeared.

A being so vast, so incomprehensible, that the mere sight of it sent Adam's mind into chaos. Its form rippled like the surface of the ocean, but it was wrong, distorted. At first, it was just a mass of shifting shapes and tendrils, but as it loomed closer, Adam saw the horrifying details. The triangular-headed fish—its body a grotesque mass of scales that writhed like living nightmares. Four yellow eyes glowed from the shadowed void of its face, glinting with malice, recognition, and something far worse: amusement.

It smiled at him. A smile that wasn't a mouth at all, but an impossibly wide gash that seemed to stretch into infinite space.

"You're just a plaything to me," it whispered—or rather, thought—in him, gnawing at his consciousness. "You found me... I will return what's yours. Found me... what's yours... ours..."

The words didn't sound like words. They were concepts. Tendrils of thought that coiled through his mind and burrowed deep, so deep that his very essence began to warp under their pressure. He couldn't scream anymore. His breath came in jagged gasps as his mind was reduced to raw terror. The creature's eyes blinked, and the world shifted again. His body shrank, his form splintering into dimensions, shifting between the size of atoms, then scaling up to the size of its needle-sharp teeth, only to shrink again into nothingness. Adam's sense of self disintegrated into madness as his thoughts were devoured, leaving behind an empty, aching vacuum.

And then, in the crushing darkness, he heard it—felt it—a voice that wasn't a voice at all.

"Find me... our... find me... home... friend..."

The words echoed in his head like a drumbeat, each pulse pushing him further into the blackness. He could not escape it. Couldn't understand it. Couldn't fight it. Not anymore.

But then, just as the pressure became unbearable, as his mind stretched beyond its limits, everything stopped. The overwhelming presence faded, and Adam was ripped from the nightmare, his consciousness thrown back into his own body. He awoke with a jolt, gasping for breath.

The queen's chamber. Soft, velvet curtains. Moonlight streaming through the windows. His body lay in a bed, soft and unfamiliar, the sheets like something a pet would lie upon.

Leah stood at the edge of the bed, her expression unreadable, yet something darker flickered behind her eyes. She looked at him, studying him, as if examining a new toy.

"What's wrong, Adam?" she asked, her voice smooth, almost casual, though there was an edge to it, something that made Adam's skin crawl despite the comfort of the bed.

Adam swallowed hard, still disoriented, his head foggy from the dream—or was it a vision? "Nothing... just a nightmare," he muttered, but his voice trembled despite his best efforts to control it. "It's fine… Bara."

The queen's smile faltered for just a moment, her eyes narrowing in a predatory gleam. How did he know that name? How did he know?

Her thoughts were sharp, seething under her composed exterior. You little fool, you think you can get away from me? From this... from what I will make you? Leah smiled wider, and the joy in her eyes was anything but kind.

"Rest, Adam," she commanded, her voice dripping with a soft, dangerous authority. "That's an order. I won't have my pets unable to follow behind me."

With a flick of her wrist, she flicked the blankets over him as if to seal him into his place. Her place.

Adam's body was heavy. The edges of his thoughts blurred as he felt himself sinking again, his eyelids growing impossibly heavy. He fought it, tried to keep himself awake, but it was useless. The warmth of the bed, the softness of her presence—her—was intoxicating. And before he could resist, his eyes fluttered shut.

But in the depths of his sleep, the whispers returned—only this time, they didn't belong to the creature in his dreams. They were Leah's. Soft, and curling around his soul like a noose.