Lucien's POV
The world was ending, and for once, I was not the one ending it.
Light and shadow bled together across the battlefield, twisting like torn ribbons of a dying god. The air was thick with ash, the ground pulsing with the remnants of my brother's light. And through that chaos, I could feel her, the steady, cold pull of Mother's will.
The ritual was complete. Almost.
Her voice whispered through the storm like silk over a blade. "You were always meant to serve, my son."
I knelt on the shattered earth, pretending weakness, pretending agony. Blood, black and shining pooled beneath my palms.
Every breath came with smoke. My veins burned as her magic devoured me from the inside out.
She was drawing it, my energy, Adrian's, the divine fragments that made us what we were.
Her greed was endless.
In the distance, Adrian lay motionless, his wings dimmed to cinders, his light flickering in the dark. And still, she drank from him and from me.
