Pov Author
The world did not end when Anna vanished.
That was the cruelest part.
The castle still stood.
The wards still breathed.
The sky still knew its place above the earth.
And yet—
Something irreplaceable was gone.
Shou Feng stood in the heart of the shattered chamber, his hands still raised, fingers trembling with power that had nowhere left to go. The air around him was scorched, shadows writhing unnaturally at his feet, responding to the fury he no longer bothered to restrain.
He had been too late.
Again.
The fracture had sealed itself with a soundless finality, like a door closing in a tomb. No echo. No weakness. No lingering thread for him to seize.
Anna was gone.
Not dead.
Not destroyed.
Taken.
The thought carved deeper than any blade.
Stone cracked beneath his feet as his power leaked into the floor, veins of darkness spreading like rot through marble. The castle groaned in protest, ancient and loyal, but he did not stop.
He welcomed the pain in his chest.
It reminded him he had failed.
---
He had destroyed worlds for less.
He had killed gods who thought themselves untouchable.
He had torn his own master apart—piece by piece—when the old fool dared to use Anna as leverage.
And still, this curse-ridden book had taken her from him.
His jaw clenched.
He remembered her voice when she had said his name.
Not in fear.
Not in reverence.
As if he were simply… him.
That was when it had begun.
That was when the God of Destruction had learned what it meant to hesitate.
---
"Pathetic."
The word cut through the chamber like a blade.
Zara's voice.
Shou Feng turned slowly.
She stood restrained within layers of binding seals, black magic crawling beneath her skin like living ink. Her white hair was disheveled now, her calm fractured—but her eyes still burned with cruel satisfaction.
"You had her," Zara continued softly. "Right there. And you still couldn't save her."
The shadows surged.
The bindings tightened violently, forcing a sharp breath from her lips—but she laughed anyway.
"That's the irony, isn't it?" she said. "You can destroy anything. Except the thing you want to protect."
Shou Feng appeared before her in an instant.
The air screamed as his hand closed around her throat, lifting her off the ground with effortless strength. Darkness wrapped his arm like armor, his eyes burning gold through black.
"You did this," he said quietly.
Not shouted.
Not threatened.
Stated.
Zara's smile widened, even as her fingers clawed uselessly at his wrist.
"Yes," she rasped. "And she chose it."
His grip tightened.
"She chose to save your world," Zara forced out. "The same way she always saves things. The same way she'll keep doing—whether you're there or not."
Something dangerous flickered across his face.
"You corrupted the book," he said. "You twisted its rules."
"I revealed them," Zara corrected. "That book was never meant to hold someone like her. She doesn't belong to a single story."
He released her abruptly.
She collapsed to the floor, coughing, but her laughter echoed through the chamber.
"She is a contradiction," Zara continued. "And contradictions attract gods."
His hands curled slowly at his sides.
"That's why you're angry," she said softly. "Not because you lost her."
She looked up at him, eyes sharp.
"But because you felt her slipping away."
---
The truth struck deeper than her magic ever could.
Shou Feng turned away.
He stared at the place where Anna had stood—where her warmth had briefly anchored the chaos of his existence.
He had never wanted.
Wanting was weakness.
Attachment was how gods died.
And yet—
When she looked at him, he was not destruction.
He was choice.
The realization made his chest ache.
"I did not summon her," he said coldly. "I did not curse her."
"No," Zara agreed. "You fell for her."
The words landed like a death sentence.
---
Far away—beyond the castle, beyond the realm, beyond the edges of the book itself—
Anna opened her eyes.
She was not bound.
She was not broken.
She stood upon ink-black water that reflected no sky, ancient symbols drifting beneath the surface like half-forgotten prayers. The air was heavy with old magic—Japanese seals, blood-written vows, the language of gods who had never expected to be challenged.
She inhaled slowly.
Her heart was still racing—but it was hers.
"So this is where you hide," she whispered.
The world responded.
Not violently.
Curiously.
Power stirred around her—not borrowed, not forced—but awakened. The book reacted to her presence the way a blade reacts to a hand that knows how to wield it.
Anna clenched her fist.
The symbols beneath the water flared.
She did not scream.
She did not beg.
She stood.
And somewhere in the darkness between realms, a god felt it.
Shou Feng froze.
His head snapped up as a familiar pressure brushed against his senses—faint, distant, but unmistakable.
Anna.
Alive.
Something feral curved his lips.
Zara felt it too.
Her smile finally faltered.
"Oh," she whispered. "That's… new."
Shou Feng turned back to her, shadows rising behind him like wings.
"You made a mistake," he said.
Zara swallowed.
"What mistake?"
"You assumed," he replied calmly, "that taking her from me would end this."
His power surged—not wild, not explosive—but precise.
Promise-sharp.
"It only decided how many worlds will burn how before I get her back."
Far away, Anna lifted her head.
The symbols answered her touch.
And the book—ancient, cursed, rewritten—turned its next page.
To be continued..