*

Born of shadows. Forged in blood, her power wakes, The laws of men and gods she breaks. A scream, a storm, a world undone. Her reign of night has just begun.

*

The ground trembled beneath my feet, and the vibrations hadn’t ceased since that unearthly scream tore through the walls. I held my breath, heart pounding with a mix of excitement and fear I hadn’t felt in years. Each member around me, each acolyte and sorcerer, wore expressions of horror and awe, their eyes wide as if they were witnessing a miracle. No, a revelation.

The scream had shattered every glass vial, every brittle tool, and what was more terrifying, several of our strongest protective arrays now lay fractured, flickering, useless against whatever was awakening in that cell. The door to the subject’s cell loomed before me, barely hanging onto its hinges, as if the power from within had bent it to its will.

I pushed forward, my hand trembling as I reached for the door. Excitement rippled through me, electrifying my veins. All these years, all these trials, and here was the proof of our success, proof that our experiments hadn’t just survived; it had become something more.

Inside the cell, I could barely recognize the walls that had once contained the subject. They were scorched, scratched, twisted out of place as if they had tried to escape the very being they’d once confined. And there in the center, unmoving on the ground, was Subject number 17, the embodiment of every twisted hope, every broken boundary, every drop of blood spilled for our cause. His—no, her figure was crumpled, surrounded by dust and debris, silent and still.

But even in that quiet, there was something more. Power simmered in the air, like embers after a wildfire, lurking, alive, waiting to erupt.

“Is it… conscious?” one of the acolytes whispered behind me, his voice shaky. I ignored him, too captivated by the form in front of me.

I stepped closer, noting the physical transformation that had progressed so vividly. Long, silver hair spilled around her shoulders like liquid moonlight, framing a face that was neither boy nor girl, neither human nor monster. Her skin, pale and smooth, almost seemed to glow, the veins beneath tinged with a strange, unnatural hue. The years of injecting succubus and vampire blood had forged something wholly unique, a creature caught between two worlds and yet belonging to neither.

A thrill coursed through me, and I leaned down, examining her with a gaze I couldn’t tear away. This was no mere subject. She was the manifestation of our grand vision, a perfect blend of darkness and beauty, a creature sculpted from our obsessions and ambitions. And here she lay, as still as death, defying even our attempts to control her.

I reached out, hovering my hand just above her cheek, feeling the faint pulse of magic resonating from her skin.

“Lady Ysara.” A voice broke my trance, and I turned, narrowing my gaze at the interruption. It was Therin, another highranking member of our order, his face drawn and pale. “We need to understand the extent of the damage. The arrays…”

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

“Forget the arrays,” I hissed, my voice sharper than I intended. “What we have here is worth a hundred broken wards.”

“But—”

“We have done the impossible,Therin. And you’re worried about broken glass?” I could see his hesitation, the cautious fear that had restrained him all these years. But I was different. I had poured everything into this, willing to go further than any of them. And now, I stood before the result of our labor, of my vision, lying at my feet.

Therin flinched, stepping back, but his eyes remained fixed on the subject. I followed his gaze, letting my own excitement pulse again. There was something about her stillness that unsettled me, yes, but also drew me in. Her transformation had surpassed our expectations, defied even the limits of our own understanding. I could feel it, lurking beneath her skin, a power ready to emerge.

“Have her restraints been reapplied?” I asked, though we both knew the answer. No restraints could hold her now. The transformation had surpassed any measure we had.

I lowered myself, crouching beside her, carefully observing her face for any flicker of consciousness. She appeared lost, a void where once there had been resistance and resilience. And yet… I knew better. Beneath that serene mask lay a storm, waiting for the right moment to tear through everything in its path.

“Lady Ysara,”Therin interrupted again, voice tense, “if she awakens—”

“She will awaken,Therin,” I replied, voice brimming with anticipation. “And when she does, we will witness the pinnacle of our creation.”

A ripple of fear flickered in his eyes. “She’s unpredictable. The scream… it was beyond anything we’ve seen.”

“Of course it was beyond anything we’ve seen.” I straightened, my gaze hardening. “We aren’t dealing with a mere experiment. We’re dealing with the embodiment of everything we have sacrificed for. Every failure, every ounce of pain she’s endured, has brought her closer to this moment.”

I watched as her chest rose and fell in slow, shallow breaths. Even unconscious, her body emitted an aura, a quiet thrum of power that was both captivating and unnerving. She was changing, evolving with every breath, transcending the limitations of her once human form.

Around me, I felt the cultists’ uncertainty, their excitement tinged with dread. But I felt no such fear. No, for me, this was nothing short of a revelation. To think that we had once doubted her, that we had considered her survival unlikely, that we had thought she might wither away like the others before her. She had defied every prediction, every limitation we placed upon her.

“Prepare for her awakening,” I commanded. My voice left no room for hesitation. “We need her conscious.”

Therin hesitated. “Are you certain that’s wise?”

“Do you doubt me,Therin?” I turned to face him fully, my gaze boring into him. “Do you doubt the fruits of our labor?”

His eyes shifted to mine. “ No, I don’t doubt. But her scream nearly killed us, Ysara. What if she turns on us the moment she awakens? ”.

“No, that won’t happen.” I interrupted. “She has endured everything we inflicted upon her. She has adapted. Strengthened. Evolved.” My voice softened, almost reverent. “This is no longer just about creating the perfect being. This is about transcending mortality, pushing the boundaries of existence itself.”

Therin swallowed, his expression conflicted. I didn’t care for his trepidation. I had long left behind the limitations of fear, of caution. This was about the power that lay within her, the power that had nearly shattered these walls with a single scream.

“She’s not human anymore,”Therin murmured.

“She was never meant to be,” I replied, almost smiling. “The blood has shaped her, molded her into something greater than we ever imagined.”

A murmur of agreement passed through the gathered cultists. They, too, were beginning to understand. They had seen what she had endured, the transformations that had rippled through her body with each injection, each spell. Her hair had turned a silvery hue, her figure reshaped, her spirit forged in defiance. She was the epitome of our dark arts, the living proof of our triumph over nature’s feeble laws.

And now, she was ours.

Or so I told myself.

But as I looked down at her still form, a tiny sliver of doubt pierced through my thoughts. What if this creation, this perfect being, was already beyond our grasp? What if we had opened a door that could never again be closed?

“Lady Ysara,”Therin said, his voice softer now. “She… doesn’t respond.”

“Then we’ll make her respond,” A cold smile forming on my lips. “Our subject has much to show us yet.”