I scanned the crowd, my heart pounding in my chest as eerie, synchronized laughter echoed from multiple directions. My eyes darted from face to face, trying to pinpoint the source. Harpies, sirens, and a handful of other Cursed and Elves were chuckling in perfect unison, their lips moving at the exact same time, their eyes locked onto me with an unsettling intensity. A shiver crawled up my spine. No one else seemed to notice. Why would they? To the untrained eye, these were just revelers enjoying the Yuletide festivities. But I knew better.

I had seen this before. If you knew what to look for, you could recognize the signs, the terrifying reality most people wouldn't. The Black Queen's Corruption was insidious, a creeping black ooze that could worm its way into women's minds, taking control. Her court was made up of those forgotten and spurred by society. Those that were overlooked and nobles barley acknowledged the existence of. They spread carefully throughout the gala unseen, making their slow, calculated approach toward me.

The High Elves that remained in the world tended to fall into two categories. The first were those who had awoken from their ancient slumber, dazed and disoriented in this modern era. Extremely dangerous, yes. Deadly to the unprepared, they could devastate cities easily. But ultimately, they could be dealt with, hunted down, and eliminated given time and effort. Then, there were the others, the ones who had endured. The ones who had survived the Fall, the collapse of magic, and the end of their reign over the world. These were the High Elves who had clawed their way forty millennia the long way, evolving into something far more terrifying. They were the ones who had learned to adapt, to thrive in the shadows of Kindred's rise.

The Black Queen was the most infamous of them all. Her true form was a mystery, spoken of only in hushed whispers by those unfortunate enough to have survived her corruption. She didn't need to reveal herself directly; the signs of her presence were unmistakable: the pitch-black eyes of those fully consumed by her will, the slow, seeping ooze that leaked from their bodies she used to spread her infection, the eerie grace with which they moved in unison, like marionettes on invisible strings. Those poor souls were easy enough to spot and avoid.

But her Court? They were different. They were the willing. Those who had accepted whatever dark bargain she offered, whose minds remained their own, at least in part. These were her agents, walking among the unsuspecting, near impossible to detect until it was too late. And right now, they were here, watching me, moving with silent intent through the throng of distracted nobles and partygoers.

Panic tightened my chest as I fumbled for my Link, desperately trying to call emergency services. My fingers trembled as I pressed the command, but the device refused to connect. My stomach dropped. Of course. The Black Queen had timed her attack perfectly. The spirit world was at its closest approach tonight, the veil between worlds thinned to the point of near dissolution. On nights like this, magical interference was at its peak, signals scrambled, connections faltered, and anything relying on traditional arcane networks became unreliable at best.

I tried again, this time dialing directly to familiar faces that could help. Taimi, Adora, and Maeriel. Each attempt failed, the silent buzz of disconnection mocking me. My pulse thundered in my ears as I realized I had no way to warn them. No way to tell them what was happening before it was too late. No way to escape before, the Black Queen dropped her charade and moved openly.

I had to do something. I had to find another way. My mind raced through possibilities before latching onto a desperate solution, Lotha's gift. The special red Linking crystal she had given me earlier. If anything had a chance of breaking through this magical interference, it would be that.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry as I whispered a silent prayer that whatever runecraft that the crystal was made with were strong enough. I called one last time with my Link, hoping against hope that someone on the other end would hear me before it was too late.

All around me, the Court's members were still closing in, their smiles wide, their eyes beginning to darken as the Black Queen took more control away from her court. I needed to move, needed to get out of the open before she took me again.

The Link buzzed in my hand, the hollow ringing echoing in my ears like a funeral knell. Each unanswered chime sent my heartbeat racing faster, pounding against my ribs with growing desperation. The palace's festive lights and glittering decorations blurred into a swirl of color as my focus narrowed on the unrelenting sound of the Link. I counted each tone, a grim measure of my dwindling hope.

And then, finally, on the eighth ring, there was a click. A pause. A moment of unbearable silence. Then, her voice came through, though something was off. "Heeey," she drawled, in a strange, confident but hesitant tone.

I didn't waste a second. My voice came out strained but steady, "The Black Queen's Court is here."

There was no delay this time. The hesitation evaporated from her voice, replaced by sharp, clipped professionalism. "How many and where?" she demanded, her voice a low whisper now, as if she had already slipped into the mindset of a hunter on the prowl.

I scanned the crowd, heart hammering. "Viewing platform outside the main pavilion," I said, lowering my voice as I glanced around, my eyes darting from one suspicious figure to another. "At least two dozen. Cursed and elves." My mouth felt dry, my breath came in short, shallow bursts. "They're moving in."

"Can you get away?" she asked, the urgency clear in her voice, though laced with an undercurrent of something I couldn't quite place. Worry? Frustration?

I shook my head, even though she couldn't see me. My throat tightened, and I forced the words out in a strained whisper. "No. The crowd's everywhere. If I try to run, she'll start moving in the open. People are going to get hurt, badly." My fingers tightened around the Link as I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. I could feel their eyes on me, dark and predatory, closing in ever so slowly like a net tightening around a struggling fish.

There was a brief pause on her end, and then a resolute answer: "I doubt she's here just for you, John. You're a bonus, not the target." A beat of silence. "Try to slip away if you can. I'm on my way and raising the banners."

Raising the banners. My stomach churned at the phrase. It meant she was calling in every available resource, security forces, local militia, and possibly even a few of the more... unconventional enforcers. It was the kind of move that would send ripples across the entire nation, and it wasn't something done lightly. But the fact that she was already taking this step told me everything I needed to know.

This wasn't just a threat. It was a catastrophe in the making.

I exhaled shakily and forced my legs to move, weaving subtly through the thick crowd. The palace grounds were alight with festivities, laughing nobles clinking glasses, couples embracing, and dignitaries locked in hushed conversation under the open, enrapturing spirit-touched sky. But beneath it all, I felt the invisible threads of danger tightening, pulling me toward an inevitable confrontation.

I kept my voice low, speaking into the Link. "I'm moving, but it's slow. Too many people, too many eyes. If they realize I'm onto them, it'll get ugly."

"Stay calm. I'm a few minutes out." Her voice was tight but reassuring, like she was holding back something more intense than she wanted to admit. "Keep your head down, and John?"

"Yeah?" I murmured, ducking behind a column as another Court member strolled past, her expression vacant yet focused.

"Don't do anything stupid, like trying to play the heroine again. This isn't a threat you can trick into a drinking contest."

A dry chuckle slipped out before I could help it. "Yea, I know."

The call dropped abruptly, the interference finally taking its toll, leaving me with nothing but the dull, ominous silence that followed. I tucked the Link away into my vest with trembling fingers, forcing a slow, measured exhale through my nose, willing my nerves to steady. A few minutes. I just had to last a few minutes.

The crowd around me carried on in blissful ignorance, their laughter and chatter forming an unbroken facade of normalcy. But I could feel the undercurrent of something dark lurking just beneath the surface. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to move to run, but I knew better. I had to blend in, act natural, or risk setting them off too soon.

Adjusting my vest with a casual roll of my shoulders, I eased toward the edge of the platform, scanning the sea of finely dressed guests with practiced subtlety. The Court members were good, too good. They moved with an unnerving grace, slipping through the crowd as if they had always belonged, weaving through the nobility with the effortless charm of predators in their element.

A harpy woman, draped in silken layers that fluttered like falling petals, laughed with exaggerated delight at something her companion had said. Her gaze flicked to me, just for an instant, before drifting lazily away. But I saw it. The way her pupils black contracted too sharply, the predatory glint lurking behind her too-wide smile.

Near the railing, a cursed succubus leaned with an air of practiced indifference, her dark, curling horns gleaming under the ambient glow of the gala lights. She toyed with her drink, swirling the black liquid in slow, deliberate motions while murmuring to an unsuspecting nobleman. Her posture was languid, casual, but I could sense the coiled tension beneath it, the way her fingers drummed lightly against the glass, her tail swaying with an eerie, calculated rhythm. She wasn't engaged in idle conversation; she was waiting. Watching.

They were all watching me.

I forced a swallow, my throat dry as sandpaper, and took another step back. The laughter rang out again soft, hollow, and echoing far too perfectly from multiple directions at once. It was like a hunter's call, a signal of sorts. And then it hit me. They weren't just closing in on me; they were positioning themselves to take everyone here. The entire pavilion, filled with nobles, dignitaries, and influential figures none of them suspecting the trap that was slowly tightening around them. This wasn't just about me. This was a harvest.

The most powerful noble in the Federation, brimming with potential, drunk, and oblivious. Even worse, most of them had their magic shackled by the oaths women had sworn upon entering the palace. The binding pacts made by oath mages meant to ensure decorum and safety. They could easily break those very oaths, but it would leave them vulnerable, drained, and almost defenseless for a short while, and that was all the time the lurking Court needed to overcome and infect them.

Panic coiled tight in my chest, my instincts screaming at me to act, to warn someone, but before I could make another move, a hand touched my back.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I stiffened instantly, my breath hitching in my throat.

A familiar, sickeningly sweet voice purred into my ear, "Don't move, you fucking slut."

My stomach dropped. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Bannerlady Tomae.

Somehow, impossibly, she was free. I could feel the sharp tips of her claws pressing against my lower back just enough to hurt, but not enough to break the skin. Yet.

I swallowed hard, my voice a barely audible rasp. "How are you free?"

She laughed, a chilling, lilting sound that sent shivers racing down my spine. That same laugh as the rest of the court. The one that had haunted me in my nightmares. "Oh, you sweet, naive little thing," she cooed, her breath warm against my ear. "Did you really think they could hold me? My mistress was very… displeased with my failure. Nearly cost me everything when I almost let her plan be discovered." She pressed her claws in just a fraction deeper, making me wince. "But imagine her delight when she found out I'd found you. She was so very pleased."

I clenched my jaw, heart hammering against my ribs. "Let me go," I said, struggling to keep my voice even. My mind raced, looking for any opening, any way to escape, to buy time.

Tomae chuckled softly, a purr of satisfaction. "Oh, I couldn't do that," she whispered, her claws tracing slow, taunting circles against my skin through the fabric of my vest. "My mistress would very much like to have a little chat with you."

I tried to twist free, but the grip on me was like iron, her strength far beyond what it should have been. Then, as I chanced a glance into the reflective surface of a nearby silver platter, I saw it.

Her eyes.

Pitch black.

Empty.

The eyes of the Black Queen.

I froze, every muscle in my body locking up in pure, primal terror. No. No, no, no.

Tomae, or whatever was left of her, smiled against my skin, her voice now tinged with something deeper, darker. "She sees you now, John," she crooned. "She wants you. The milking stud stolen by her sister. A stud who somehow is not rutting everything in sight. She would very much like to find out what Maeriel did to you and allow you to have a mind still."

I gritted my teeth, panic threatening to overtake me, but I forced myself to stay calm. If I gave in to fear, if I reacted now, it would trigger the Court to act immediately. I couldn't afford that.

Think, dammit.

"You'll have to do better than this, Tomae," I murmured, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Resist, a deal can be made, and amnesty found."

Her grin widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against my ear. "Oh, far too late for that, tonight," she whispered, her tone dripping with sadistic glee. "Tonight, my mistress will give me everything I ever wanted, and you'll see just how much pain a person can survive before passing out."

My fingers twitched at my side, itching to reach out trying to get a grip on her. My thoughts raced, a few minutes. I just had to last a few minutes. But with the Black Queen's Court closing in, and Tomae's claws at my back, every second felt like a lifetime.

And somehow, I knew deep down…

I was running out of time.

I had one choice left. The choice I never wanted to make. The one that would damn me, that would seal my fate in ways I couldn't yet fathom. But I knew deep down, without a shadow of a doubt, that if I was captured, what awaited me would be a fate far worse than death. The Black Queen didn't just take prisoners; she devoured souls, twisted minds, and left only hollow puppets in her wake. I couldn't let that happen to me again.

My hands found purchase against Tomae's side, pressing into the toned muscle beneath her elegant gown. Her grip tightened on me, claws pricking through the fabric of my vest, enough to draw pinpricks of blood. Her face hovered inches from mine, a sickening grin curling across her lips.

"What do you think you're doing, you stupid himbo?" she purred mockingly, her voice dripping with venomous amusement. Her eyes, those terrible pitch-black voids, bore into mine, and for a heartbeat, fear paralyzed me.

I knew exactly what I was doing.

Like all men, I couldn't wield magic in the way women could. We lacked that extra sense, that deep connection to the world that allowed creation. The ability of women used one to shape the world to create life, to conceive and change the world. But that didn't mean we were powerless. No, I had spent years enduring, surviving, being forcibly drained of my mana, redirected, siphoned, milked. I knew the feeling, how to channel it, how to manipulate it in ways that weren't meant to be possible. I had been nothing more than a battery for so long, but now I would turn that curse into my salvation.

I made the choice.

With a deep breath, I reached inward, past the layers of fear and pain buried deep within me, past the years of forced suppression. And then, with a shudder that rocked my very bones, I reactivated my core.

It hit me like a thunderclap.

A flood of raw, untamed power surged through my veins, a roaring inferno that had been locked away for so long finally set free. My muscles tensed, my senses sharpened to razor clarity, and in that instant, the world shifted. I felt the crackling current of magic pulsating all around me through Tomae, through the very air, through the distant hum of the spirit world pressing ever closer.

Tomae's smirk faltered, confusion flickering across her features as she felt the shift. "What…?"

Before she could react, I did what I had been trained, no forced to do for years. I pulled.

A violent gasp tore from her throat as I seized the magic within her, gripping it like a lifeline and yanking it into myself. The air around us crackled, and her body seized, eyes widening in sheer disbelief. The Black Queen's influence clung to her like tar, writhing and resisting my touch, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

"No!" she shrieked, thrashing against me, but I held firm, fingers digging into her side as I drew more and more from her mana. Her glamour faltered, flickering like a dying flame, her once-glossy hair dulled, her regal attire shifted into something ragged, and her elegant features twisted into something far more desperate, far less human.

All around us, the crowd began to stir in confusion, and then, like the breaking of a dam, alarms blared through the night. The wail of sirens sliced through the pavilion, accompanied by the pounding of hurried footsteps as security forces scrambled to respond to the disturbance.

Tomae's legs buckled beneath her, and she sagged against me, panting heavily, her claws losing their grip. "You… you don't know what you're doing…" she whispered, a tremor in her voice.

But I did. I knew exactly what I was doing.

My core burned hot, the long-dormant wellspring of power within me coming alive with a vengeance. I could feel it humming through my skin, electrifying every nerve, filling me with strength I hadn't felt in years. But it wasn't just strength; it was hunger.

My body ached with the desire to take more, to strip her dry, to drain her until there was nothing left but an empty husk. A dark part of me relished it the thought of turning the tables, of making her feel what had been done to me so many times before.

But I pushed that urge down, and fought to stay in control.

Tomae whimpered, her voice reduced to a broken whisper. "Please... stop..."

I took one last pull, then released her abruptly. She collapsed onto the floor, gasping and trembling, looking up at me with something close to terror. She wasn't laughing anymore.

The Black Queen's voice, cold, distant, and laced with cruel amusement, echoed through Tomae's lips as she died, the kitsun beginning to dissolve into an inky, writhing mass of black ooze. "Interesting..." the voice mused, a silky whisper that sent ice crawling down my spine, each syllable carrying a weight of sinister delight that made my stomach churn.

I staggered back a step, my chest heaving with ragged breaths, the stolen power still thrumming beneath my skin like a restless beast. My muscles coiled, instinct screaming at me to run, but I stood my ground, clenching my fists tightly at my sides. "Stay away from me," I growled, my voice low, edged with a desperate defiance I wasn't sure I could maintain.

The Black Queen's laughter slithered through the air, an eerie, hollow sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. It resonated within my bones, a cruel mockery of something once human, now twisted beyond recognition. "Oh, John..." she purred through Tomae's fading form, those soulless, midnight-black eyes boring into mine, devouring me with their endless hunger. "Don't you remember how wonderful it felt to be one with me?" Her words dripped like honeyed venom, sweet and poisonous, awakening old scars I had buried deep within. "You can fight all you like, but you'll be mine again... soon enough."

As if to punctuate her promise, Tomae's body collapsed entirely, the last vestiges of her flesh melting away into a bubbling pool of darkness that writhed and pulsed with unnatural life. The putrid stench of corruption stung my nostrils, and I had to suppress the urge to retch. Around me, the air grew thick with panic as the court's silent agents, hidden among the crowd, finally made their move.

Screams shattered the relative peace of the pavilion, rising in a deafening cacophony as chaos erupted. The Court had begun their attack. Guests trampled over one another in their desperate bid for escape, noblewomen shrieking, and the ever-present hum of mana flaring through the air as defensive wards failed to activate.

Sirens blared in the distance, their shrill wail slicing through the night like an alarm bell from the heavens. They were coming the Dragoons, but I knew it wouldn't be enough. Not against her.

I cast a final, fleeting glance at the pool of writhing black ooze that had once been Bannerlady Tomae, my gut churning with something dangerously close to guilt. Then, shoving the feeling down, I turned on my heel and slipped into the fleeing crowd, using the chaos as my cover.

I had made my choice. I had opened the door to something I could never take back.

Now, I had to live with it. If I survived the night.

----------------------------------------

Codex

Oath of Office of the President of Atlantica

"I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend Atlantica against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to her Majesty Lizbeth, Queen of Albion, Empress of the Federation, her heirs and successors; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation, domination, or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. May Atlantica bind me to this Oath, so help me, Aspects."