Cyra PoV
I smirked as I stared at the abyssal darkness. Holding my hand down, I drew some of it toward me and condensed it into a solid sphere of matter.
It crackled with an eerie light, shadows swirling around it like a tempest, hungry for release.
I could feel the power surging through me, intoxicating and exhilarating. This was what I had craved—the ability to wield darkness itself as a weapon, to shape it into something formidable. The sphere grew larger, the air crackling as it absorbed the ambient shadows. I grinned, reveling in the sensation of control.
"Soon," I whispered to myself, "the world will know my name." I envisioned the chaos I would unleash, the fear I would instill. It was time to make my mark, to rise from the obscurity that had shrouded me for so long.
"What do you think you're doing?" a voice called out.
I gasped as I turned around and saw Reginald, he carried a kitten swaddled in thick blankets. What was he doing here?
