I had never suspected the True Lord Styx to be able to smile. But the subtle curve of his lips transformed his severe features into something almost gentle, creating an unsettling contrast to the rich, dominating strength within his aura.

  Enrosha shifted her weight, her towering form still easily dwarfed by the ancient Vampire's presence. "How do we reach him? The underground kingdoms are sealed to outsiders, especially after what happened recently."

  "We fly," Styx replied simply, then paused, tilting his head as if reconsidering. "Or perhaps not. Time grows short, and our enemies have many eyes."

  He stepped closer, his cloak rippling around him like liquid shadow. Up close, I could see subtle details I'd missed before. Networks of ancient scars scorched his visible skin, occasional shimmers of something other beneath his human-like appearance, and the way light seemed to bend slightly around him.

  "I will take us directly," Styx announced. "Though I should warn you—my method of travel is unsettling to the uninitiated."

  Before any of us could respond, Styx spread his arms wide, his cloak expanding outward. What had appeared to be simple black fabric suddenly rippled and transmuted, the edges reshaping themselves into vast, membranous wings that engulfed the night sky above us.

  "Closer," he commanded softly, his voice resonating with enough energy to make the air vibrate.

  We exchanged glances but stepped forward as instructed.

  "This will be unpleasant, for you," he warned, his lips barely moving.

  The transformation began subtly at first. The air darkened around us. Shadows stretched and coiled worms. Then came the cold, not the familiar chill of night air, but something more penetrating, as if the very concept of warmth was being overwritten.

  I felt it begin as a crawling sensation beneath my skin, like thousands of infinitesimal pinpricks moving in random patterns across my body. My lungs constricted as the air grew thick, almost viscous, making each breath a deliberate struggle.

  Beside me, Qali gasped, her hands stuck at her side. Enrosha stood rigid, her eyes wide with alarm as veins across her exposed skin darkened to black.

  "Gods what is happening?" Enrosha managed through clenched teeth.

  Styx didn't respond. His form was becoming less solid, more like an impression of a being than a physical entity. The wings of his cloak expanded further, and reality itself seemed to tear along its edges, revealing glimpses of something beyond: void.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  His aura no longer felt external. It was inside me now, flowing through my veins, pressing against my thoughts, and bringing visions that made me want to claw my brain out with my bare hands. Concurrent with everything else, a constant, high-pitched, blood-curdling scream seemed to echo forever, always behind me. This was the most terrible thing I’ve ever experienced.

  "Do not resist," Styx's voice echoed, though his lips didn't move. "Surrender completely."

  The ground beneath our feet dissolved into smoke. The megalith, the forest, the moonlight, it all faded into swirling darkness. I felt my physical form becoming indistinct and my consciousness stretch across vast distances while also being compressed into a single point of awareness.

  Time and space dissolved into a liminal void. We were everywhere and nowhere, moving through layers of reality never meant for mortal perception. Through the maelstrom of sensation, I caught glimpses of other places—vast underground caverns glittering with bioluminescent fungi, the ruins of ancient civilizations buried beneath Earth's land and sea, and a massive, technological city of crystal tucked somewhere nobody could find it.

  There was something else—a presence, vast and watchful, peering through the dimensional barriers at our transit. Something that recognized Styx and recoiled.

  Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the transit ended.

  Reality reasserted itself with a force that left all three of us stumbling. Smooth and solid stone, polished to a mirror shine, materialized beneath my feet. The air was cooler here, with unfamiliar scents of earth and exotic flora.

  I blinked and my vision slowly cleared to reveal our new surroundings. We stood in a vast chamber hewn from living rock, its ceiling lost in shadows above. Bioluminescent crystals in myriad colors grew from the walls, casting an ethereal, shifting light across the space. At the center of the chamber stood a massive bed on a raised dais, its frame carved from a single piece of obsidian, draped with fabrics of deepest blue and silver.

  And upon that bed, now sitting upright with an expression of stunned disbelief, was the Drow King.

  Styx's form had returned to its previous state, his cloak once again appearing as simple fabric.

  "Forgive the intrusion, old friend," Styx said, his voice carrying that same harmonic quality that made my skin prickle. "But circumstances have forced my hand."

  The Drow King's gaze moved from Styx to us. His eyes, a brilliant blue like his daughter's had been, widened in recognition and then narrowed in fury.

  "Anunnaki," he spat, the single word carrying centuries of hatred.

  Styx stepped forward, positioning himself between us and the king. "Not quite," he replied.

  The air in the chamber grew heavy, but not with Styx's familiar, terrible, brand of presence. This was different. A pressure was building from the Drow King himself as he rose from his bed.

  "You bring the spawn of my daughter's murderers into my private chambers?" the king asked, his voice dangerously soft. "Explain yourself, Styx, before I forget our friendship."

  The Drow King's aura impacted us.

  It wasn’t the psychotic, creeping horror of Styx's presence, but something equally overwhelming in its own way. A crushing weight, like gravity itself multiplying exponentially around us. A gravitational super-force that threatened to make us one with the polished stone floor. My knees buckled, my small frame offering little resistance despite my enhanced genetics. Beside me, even Enrosha's towering form bent under the weight. Her muscles strained hard as she fought to remain standing.

  "I bring you," Styx replied calmly, like he wasn’t the least bit affected by the Drow King’s emanation, "the echoing whispers of revolution."