Her body trembled as the last drops of cursed energy barely kept her standing. Makima, with narrowed eyes and ragged breaths, gazed at the spiritual bond that still tied Yuta to Rika. It was a curse born of love, something nearly indestructible. Yet now, that powerful connection was on the verge of breaking.
The exhausting battle to undo it had drained more energy than she ever thought she could lose, but the result would be worth it. A barely perceptible smile began to curl her lips—a smile she never thought she'd have, one that came from a place far deeper than satisfaction or pride. It was the kind of smile one gives when they realize they've accomplished something that once seemed impossible.
For a moment, her gaze softened as she watched the bond between Yuta and Rika finally crumble like ashes in the wind. The connection, so strong, so deeply rooted in desperate love, gave way to her will, as if the curse had never existed. The magnitude of the achievement wasn't just impressive; it was utterly divine.
"I did it..." she thought, almost in disbelief, as the cold night air felt lighter on her shoulders. "I broke a curse... one as complex as love."
And then, she understood. This wasn't just a victory. This was a new beginning, a revelation of what she was truly capable of. Something that even the most powerful sorcerers hadn't been able to do—she had done it. Her mother, with all her warnings and fear of what Makima could become, had been wrong. There were no limits to her power, and now she knew it.
That smile widened slightly. "A goddess... no. I will be more than that. I'll be something greater." The satisfaction that surged from deep within her wasn't from merely controlling Rika or defeating Yuta—it was from the certainty that there were no limits to her will. Not even love, that force so many deemed invincible, had been a match for her.
Barely conscious from exhaustion, but euphoric from the revelation of her true greatness, Makima swayed. The weight of her ambition, now more colossal than ever, enveloped her. "Mother... you were so wrong," she whispered to herself. "I won't be a goddess. I'll be something greater than any god."
After everything that had happened, Yuta felt a deep unease in his chest. Although Rika was there, moving and breathing, a strange sensation overwhelmed him. He had lost something, though he didn't know what. "Rika..." he said, his voice laced with uncertainty.
Rika's eyes slowly opened, and when she looked around, the first thing she sensed was Yuta's voice. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, she smiled. But something inside her felt off, as if something was missing.
Rika's smile slowly faded, replaced by a strange sense of emptiness as she looked at Yuta. It was as if her feelings for him, once strong and pure, had been overshadowed by something she couldn't understand. Something had changed.
When Yuta called her name, her first instinct was to smile back, as she always did. But inside, something was broken, blurred. Though her body moved, her thoughts were like tangled threads. "What is this feeling...?" she wondered as she felt a tightening in her chest, like something essential had been ripped from her.
Yuta's soft voice came again, concerned. "Do you feel better?" he asked, but his words seemed distant, like they were just an echo.
Suddenly, a jolt ran through her when she heard a different voice. "Rika." She slowly turned, her gaze falling upon a familiar figure. The girl she had met hours before was there, but this time, she felt much larger, much more present. Makima Zenin. The name echoed in her head, reverberating in her thoughts like an obsession. "Makima Zenin... Makima Zenin... Makima Zenin..."
It was as if that name was carved into her mind, impossible to ignore. And when Makima smiled at her, everything in Rika froze. That smile wasn't like any other. It was a promise, an absolute affirmation that couldn't be questioned.
Makima stepped closer and, with a softness that contradicted everything Rika felt inside, gently ran a hand across her cheek. The simple touch sent a wave of calm through her body, an overwhelming sense that everything would be okay. But it wasn't a natural calm—it was one that invaded, crushing everything else.
Makima whispered, "Everything will be fine." And those words, which could have sounded comforting, felt like a sentence.
Rika knew, deep down: she couldn't resist. Something in her had surrendered the moment Makima touched her. It was as if every fiber of her being was now guided by a will that wasn't her own. The thoughts of Yuta, her love, everything that had once defined her, seemed to fade slowly, eclipsed by Makima's presence.
The emotional enslavement Makima imposed on Rika was subtle yet relentless. She didn't need visible chains or harsh words. Her mere presence, her gaze, her touch were enough to bend Rika's spirit. Every time Makima smiled, Rika felt like she owed her something, as if that smile had become the very reason for her existence now. The feelings she once had for Yuta crumbled, replaced by a new devotion, but this devotion wasn't free—it was woven with the threads of Makima's will.
Rika realized that she could no longer take her eyes off Makima, and though she tried to focus on Yuta, each time she did, she felt a pang in her chest—a reminder that something had been taken away.
Makima watched her with that same unshaken smile, fully aware of the power she now held over the most powerful curse born of love. Rika no longer belonged to Yuta. Now, her loyalty, her will, her very soul, were Makima's and hers alone. And that reality sank deeper into Rika with every word, every gesture.
Deep down, Yuta felt it too. Although Rika was there, something was missing. Something irreplaceable.
Rika was trapped in a new curse, one far darker and more twisted: Makima's.