Ella moved first.
Her body tensed as she lunged forward, every muscle screaming at her to fight back, to reject the System's mistake and force it to recognize what she truly was.
Her hands reached for a weapon—any weapon— but there was none. No blade. No claws. No fangs.
Nothing but darkness.
The Phantom Lord loomed before her, its towering form shifting and distorting, its edges blurring like a mirage.
It was watching her.
Waiting.
Testing.
"Why resist?" the voice slithered through her mind, cold and endless. "Resistance is futile, child. Shadows do not fight. They consume. You will be weak till you accept this."
Ella ignored it.
She twisted her body mid-air, her instincts forcing her to adapt—if she had no weapon, then she would use herself. Her foot lashed out, aiming for the Phantom's core.
It passed through nothing.
Her breath hitched as she landed hard, stumbling. The Phantom's body had simply faded, like smoke in the wind.
"You do not understand your own existence," it whispered. "Let me teach you."
The shadows rushed forward. A force slammed into Ella's chest, sending her flying backward. She hit the ground hard, her vision blurring as the air was knocked from her lungs. She gasped, her body trembling from the impact.
"Flesh is weak," the voice continued, rising all around her. "Blood is fragile. But you are neither. You are a child of pure shadows not just any creature of night. Why resist when the System has chosen you?"
Ella's fingers dug into the cold stone beneath her, nails scraping as she forced herself upright. Her body ached from the impact, but the real pain was somewhere deeper—inside her chest, where the truth was unraveling her entire existence.
"I am Bloodborn," she whispered, her voice shaking but firm.
She had been born into a house of power, a dynasty that had stood for centuries. Nobility. Legacy. Strength. And now, the System—the very force that determined fate—was telling her that it was all a lie.
The Phantom Lord loomed over her, its form shifting, unraveling, reforming—a shape that was never meant to be solid.
"You cling to a name that is not yours," it murmured. "A false claim. A broken bloodline."
Ella's breath hitched. Broken?
"The System does not make mistakes," it continued, its voice echoing from every shadow. "It reveals the truth."
The darkness around her trembled, moving like a living thing.
And for the first time, Ella felt it. The shadows weren't just around her. They were inside her. A part of her. Sickening realization settled into her mind.
Where her father's blood, her mother's, her brother's— were they different from hers?
Had she been living a lie since birth?
"No," she whispered, clenching her fists. "No, I refuse this."
The Phantom Lord's presence grew heavier, the air thick with unseen force.
"Hahahaha"
Ella's heartbeat slammed against her ribs. She couldn't accept this. She wouldn't. But her body—her very soul—was rejecting her denial. The shadows moved. Not at the Phantom's will—but at hers.
For the briefest second, the darkness around her writhed, responding to her emotions, pulsing with her heartbeat.
The Phantom Lord tilted its head.
"You feel it, don't you?" it whispered. "The call of the void. The hunger of the unseen."
Ella gritted her teeth. She refused to let this thing—this creature—decide her fate.
She forced herself forward, ignoring the burning in her chest, the unnatural heaviness of the air. If she had no weapon, if her blood was not what she thought it was—then she would use everything she had left.
Her own hatred.
She lunged again, this time leading with her fist. But just as before—her attack hit nothing.
The Phantom wasn't solid. She wasn't fighting something that could be touched.
"Still, you struggle," the Phantom sighed. "Still, you deny."
And then—
It moved.
The air ripped apart. A cold hand wrapped around Ella's throat. She gasped, eyes widening as she was lifted off the ground, her body weightless, her breath vanishing.
"Let me show you."
The shadows swallowed her. She screamed. For a moment, there was nothing. No pain. No air. No body. Just endless dark.
The abyss.
And within it—whispers. Voices slithered into her mind, their tones neither cruel nor kind. Ancient. Endless. Knowing.
"You have lived in the light too long."
"You have tried to be something you are not."
"But the shadows have always been waiting."
Ella's soul twisted. The darkness was pulling at her, wrapping around her skin, seeping into her bones. She struggled—fought to breathe, fought to escape—
And then—
She stopped.
And she listened. The shadows didn't hurt her. They embraced her, the whispers weren't lies, and they were offering her power. For the first time, Ella did something she never thought she would.
She let go. And the shadows rushed in.
A surge of energy—cold, weightless, infinite—erupted through her veins.
The darkness became hers. The Phantom Lord released her, becoming one with her. Ella landed without sound.
Her body was different now. Lighter, Stronger. As if she had shed something unnecessary.
The Phantom Lord watched her silently.
And then, it knelt.
"Now, you understand," it said.
A new voice echoed in her mind—one that wasn't the Phantom's.
[System Integration Complete.]
[Title Acquired: Shadow Weaver.]
[Class: Shade.]
[Power Unlocked: Voidstep.]
Ella exhaled slowly.
The shadows around her moved at her will.
She lifted her hand. The darkness curled around her fingers like silk, bending to her command.
This wasn't Bloodborn power.
"This is the true power of a phantom my lady reminds the world get out of this hell hole survive and remind the world."
She said nothing feeling the power of a creature of night flow deep within her, but it disgusted her, it wasn't her it never will be. She won't accept it, she will change she was born to be a Bloodborn not a disgrace to her family not now, not this close to the war. If the system was to be brought to its knees, then she will gladly do it.
But for now, she had to know where she was.