Chapter 9: Cracks in the Foundation

The rumble intensified, the walls of Wonderland quaking with unnatural force. Shadows slithered and writhed along the edges of the room, growing darker, deeper—alive with a malevolent will. Devereux felt his breath catch in his throat as he stepped back, his instincts screaming at him to run.

Avra, however, remained rooted in place, cradling the newborn spirit in her arms. Her calmness amidst the chaos was almost unsettling. She glanced at the trembling walls, her expression unreadable.

“Wonderland doesn’t like this,” Devereux said, his voice edged with panic. “You’re unraveling something it’s fought to keep hidden.”

Avra tilted her head, looking down at the spirits who clung to her like a beacon of safety. “Let it unravel, then,” she said softly.

Devereux swallowed hard. He had spent years understanding Wonderland’s rules, navigating its shifting halls, and avoiding its traps. It was a place of beauty and horror, equal parts dream and nightmare. But now, it was responding like a wounded animal, lashing out against an intruder who dared to defy its will.

“You don’t understand,” he said, his voice rising. “If you keep pushing, this place won’t just collapse—it’ll take you with it.”

Avra met his gaze, her eyes calm but piercing. “Maybe it’s time for it to collapse. Maybe it’s time for something new.”

Before Devereux could respond, the room erupted. The shadows coalesced into towering forms, grotesque and misshapen, their glowing eyes fixed on Avra. They moved with an eerie grace, their movements silent but purposeful.

“Spirits,” Devereux muttered, his heart racing. “The dark ones. The ones who couldn’t let go.”

The spirits were corrupted remnants of what they had once been, twisted by years of neglect and despair. They had become Wonderland’s enforcers, ensuring no one disrupted its delicate balance.

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Avra turned to face them, her expression unwavering. The newborn spirit in her arms cooed softly, seemingly unaware of the danger.

“Stay behind me,” Devereux said, moving to place himself between Avra and the advancing spirits.

But Avra shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “They’re not here to hurt me.”

Devereux blinked, confusion and disbelief warring on his face. “Are you insane? Look at them!”

“I am looking,” Avra replied, her voice steady. She stepped forward, holding out a hand toward the nearest spirit.

The spirit froze, its form flickering uncertainly.

“They’re just like the others,” Avra said, her voice soft but clear. “Forgotten. Lost. They don’t want to hurt anyone—they’re just angry.”

The dark spirit hesitated, its glowing eyes flickering like a dying flame. Slowly, it lowered itself, its towering form shrinking until it stood at eye level with Avra.

“See?” she whispered, offering it a small smile.

Devereux stared in disbelief as the spirit’s monstrous form began to change. The sharp edges softened, the grotesque features smoothing into something almost human. Within moments, it had transformed into a young boy, no older than ten.

The boy blinked up at Avra, his eyes wide with confusion. “What… what happened?” he asked, his voice trembling.

Avra knelt down, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been here a long time,” she said. “But it’s okay now. You don’t have to be angry anymore.”

The boy looked at her, his eyes filling with tears. “I just… I wanted someone to find me.”

Avra pulled him into a hug, her expression softening. “I found you,” she said simply.

Devereux felt his knees weaken as he watched the scene unfold. This was impossible. Wonderland didn’t work like this. It consumed, corrupted, destroyed. It didn’t heal.

But then he remembered who Avra was—what she was.

“You’re not just anyone,” he said aloud, his voice trembling. “You’re something… different.”

Avra glanced back at him, her expression unreadable. “Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe I just see things differently.”

The remaining dark spirits hesitated, their forms flickering uncertainly. One by one, they began to shrink, their grotesque features melting away as they transformed into children, each one more lost and confused than the last.

Devereux’s breath caught in his throat as he realized the scope of what Avra was doing. She wasn’t just changing Wonderland—she was undoing it.

And Wonderland wasn’t going to let that happen without a fight.

The rumble beneath their feet grew stronger, and the walls of the room began to crack. A low, guttural sound filled the air, like the growl of a beast awakening from a long slumber.

“Avra,” Devereux said urgently, his voice barely audible over the noise. “We need to move. Now.”

But Avra didn’t move. She stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the spirits she had freed, her expression calm and resolute.

“I’m not leaving,” she said. “Not until they’re safe.”

Devereux clenched his fists, his mind racing. If they stayed here, Wonderland would consume them all. But if they left, Avra’s work would be undone.

For the first time in years, he felt truly helpless.

And for the first time, he began to wonder if Avra was the key to ending Wonderland’s curse—or if she was the one who would doom them all.