Far from the distance, hidden in the shadows of the towering trees, two sets of eyes glimmered with an eerie, unnatural glow. The eyes were barely visible, lurking just beyond the edge of the firelight, shielded by powerful magic that allowed their watchers to remain unseen, undetected. A dark enchantment cloaked them, twisting the very air around them, so that even the sharpest senses—like Jea's—couldn't perceive their presence.
One of the figures, a tall, slender silhouette with long, silver hair, moved with a fluid grace. His eyes—two pools of glistening amber—watched the group intently, studying them with an unsettling calm. The figure was cloaked in dark robes, the fabric shimmering with arcane symbols that pulsed softly in the night.
Beside him, the second figure—much shorter, with dark, penetrating eyes—shifted slightly, her presence just as haunting. The aura around her crackled with magic, the energy flowing like a river of shadows. A low, haunting whisper escaped her lips, barely audible in the distance.
"They're getting closer," the woman said, her voice like a serpent's hiss. "They can feel it—the prophecy. The threads of fate are pulling them together. But they have no idea what's coming for them."
The man beside her nodded, his lips curling into a thin smile. "Andrei doesn't even know what he's becoming. He thinks he's seeking power, but what he's really after is something far more dangerous." His gaze lingered on Mathea, then shifted to Jea, Athena, and Juan, all of them gathered by the fire, seemingly unaware of the peril lurking so close.
"Do you think they'll succeed?" the woman asked, her voice tinged with amusement.
"They have no choice but to try," the man replied, his tone dark and certain. "But the truth is, they're already too late. Andrei's soul is slipping away, and once it's gone, there will be nothing left but an empty shell. It's only a matter of time before the darkness consumes him completely."
The woman's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a sinister smile. "Good. Let them believe they're in control for now. It will make the eventual fall all the more satisfying."
As the two figures observed the group, they moved closer, their forms blending seamlessly into the shadows. The air seemed to grow colder around them, their presence twisting the very fabric of the forest. Their magic was ancient—dangerous—and it had been lying in wait for this very moment.
The man glanced at the woman, his amber eyes flickering with an almost predatory gleam. "We should make our move soon. King Jay's plans are already in motion, but they still don't know that he's nothing more than a puppet. His true master is waiting, and once we've twisted Andrei's fate beyond repair, we will move forward with our own."
The woman nodded, her smile widening. "Then let's set the stage. The game is almost over."
As the two figures silently vanished into the forest, their presence faded as quickly as it had come, leaving the group unaware of the looming danger. They continued to sit by the fire, lost in their own thoughts, oblivious to the fact that the shadows had already begun to close in on them.
Andrei, who had been deep in thought just moments before, shifted uncomfortably. The strange pull inside him grew stronger, but he couldn't place its origin. He shook his head, trying to push the feeling aside, but something told him that the path ahead wasn't as simple as he had once believed. There were forces at work—forces much more powerful than he had imagined—and they were watching him. Watching them all.
The night was eerily quiet as Andrei lay beneath the dark canopy of trees, the crackling of the fire slowly fading into the background of his thoughts. His body ached with exhaustion, but sleep was elusive. His mind was restless, the remnants of his lost magic swirling in his consciousness, a constant reminder of the price he had paid. He tossed and turned, unable to quiet the storm inside him.
As the hours passed, his mind finally drifted into a deep, unsettling sleep.
In his dream, he found himself standing in a clearing, the air thick with tension. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an unnatural light over everything, making the shadows seem to stretch longer than they should. He looked around, but the familiar faces of his companions were nowhere to be found. Instead, a haunting silence filled the air, broken only by the distant rustling of the wind through the trees.
Then, out of the shadows, figures emerged. At first, they were indistinct, like shadows in the corner of his vision. But as they drew closer, Andrei recognized them: twisted, monstrous versions of Mathea, Jea, Athena, and even the two pets, Yhan Yhan and Janna's dragon. Their eyes were hollow, their bodies contorted in grotesque forms, their faces twisted with malevolent intent.
Andrei's heart pounded in his chest, his throat tightening with a mixture of dread and confusion. These weren't his friends. These were... something else. Something dark. Something wrong.
"ANDREI!" Mathea's voice echoed through the dream, distorted and filled with an unnatural malice. "You've brought this upon us. You betrayed us."
"No!" Andrei screamed, his voice breaking, but no words came to him. The figures surrounding him were closing in, their limbs stretching unnaturally, their faces snarling and contorting with cruel smiles.
Jea's voice joined in, distorted and mocking. "You thought you could escape your fate, Andrei? You're no better than the rest of us. You abandoned us when we needed you most."
"Please..." Andrei whispered, feeling the weight of his past mistakes crashing down on him. He reached out for them, desperate to undo whatever had gone wrong, but his hand passed through them like smoke.
A cold laugh echoed from behind him, and he turned to see a figure emerging from the shadows—Lord Anjo, his dark eyes gleaming with triumph. "It's too late, Andrei," he said, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Your friends are already dead. They've fallen to the same darkness that's taken root in you."
The ground beneath Andrei's feet trembled, and the twisted versions of his friends lunged at him, their clawed hands reaching for his throat. He tried to fight back, but he was paralyzed, trapped in his own horror. They ripped at him, tearing through his chest, his soul. He screamed, but no sound escaped his lips, as the darkness overtook him.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the dream shifted. Andrei was no longer in the clearing. He was back at the camp, surrounded by the warm glow of the fire. But the camp was empty. The fire burned out of control, the flames licking the sky like angry demons. His friends were gone, vanished into the smoke.
Andrei was alone.
He awoke with a start, his breath shallow and erratic. The firelight flickered in front of him, casting long shadows against the trees. His heart was racing. His hands trembled as he wiped the sweat from his brow, struggling to shake the remnants of the nightmare.
The dream had felt so real.
But it was just a dream... wasn't it?