Scene One – The Aftermath
The room still smelled of iron and panic.
Katherine knelt beside Jeremiah's limp body, her hands pressed hard against the wound in his side, blood soaking through her fingers faster than she could stem it. His breathing was shallow, his skin pale as marble. "Stay with me… please…" Her voice cracked, trembling with the effort of holding herself together. Around them, the Guild medics worked frantically, their shouts blurring into background noise.
Caleb stood a few feet away, blade still in his hand, his expression eerily blank. The others shouted at him — Jax ready to strike, Lyra's eyes burning with fury — but something about the glassy emptiness in his gaze froze Katherine. This wasn't him… and yet, it was his hand that had driven the knife home.
"Get him out of here!" Broadman barked, storming into the room with two armed guards. "Now!"
The medics loaded Jeremiah onto a stretcher, but Katherine didn't move until his hand slipped from hers. The void left behind felt like a wound of its own.
When she finally turned to Caleb, her heart pounded with a conflicting mix of rage and confusion. "Why?" she demanded. "Why would you—?"
"I… don't…" Caleb's voice faltered, eyes darting like a man waking from a dream. "I don't remember."
Broadman's hand clamped on his shoulder. "We'll get our answers. But until then, he's in containment."
As the guards pulled him away, Katherine caught a flicker — just a flicker — of something in his eyes. Not fear. Not remorse. Something darker. It made her stomach twist.
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Scene Two – Fractures
Hours later, the Guild's infirmary was quiet except for the rhythmic beeping of Jeremiah's heart monitor. He lay motionless under pale white sheets, every line of his body still. The medics had stabilized him, but the coma… that was something no healer could fix easily. Not even him.
Katherine sat at his bedside, her fingers lightly brushing the back of his hand. She hated the sterile stillness of the room. Jeremiah had always been so alive — frowning, smiling, arguing with her, teasing her — and now it felt like the light had been cut from him.
Footsteps sounded behind her. Lyra slipped in, her eyes shadowed. "They're saying it wasn't Caleb's fault," she murmured. "That he was… influenced."
"Influenced?" Katherine's voice came out sharp. "He nearly killed him."
"I know," Lyra said quietly, leaning against the wall. "But Broadman's convinced someone got into his head. Mind control, psychic override, maybe something worse."
Katherine's lips pressed into a thin line. "That doesn't change what happened."
"It changes how we fight it," Lyra countered. She hesitated before adding, "Marcus thinks it's Obsidian work. And if that's true… this isn't just about Caleb anymore."
Katherine looked down at Jeremiah's still face. She could almost hear him telling her not to act rashly, to think before moving. But she wasn't sure she had the patience for that anymore.
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Scene Three – The Interrogation
In a dimly lit containment cell, Caleb sat at the metal table, hands bound. Broadman loomed over him, the silence between them thick and oppressive.
"You stabbed one of our own," Broadman began, his voice flat. "Explain."
"I told you — I don't remember," Caleb said, his voice shaking. "I… I was talking to him. Then everything went black. When I came to, he was on the ground, bleeding."
Broadman's eyes narrowed. "Do you remember anything unusual before that?"
Caleb's brow furrowed. "There was… someone. A woman. Blonde hair, but not… natural. Eyes like gold. She smiled at me, but it wasn't—" He broke off, shivering. "It wasn't a normal smile."
Broadman exchanged a glance with Marcus, who was standing in the corner, arms folded. Marcus didn't speak, but his expression told the truth: he recognized the description.
When Caleb was finally left alone, the blankness returned to his eyes for just a moment. His lips curled upward into a faint, sinister smile — the same one Seraphyne had given him.
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Scene Four – Lines Drawn
Night settled over the Guild. The halls were quiet, but tension seeped through the air like smoke. Katherine stood on the training deck, staring out over the city lights, the wind cold against her face. She felt Marcus approach before she heard him.
"She's making her move," Marcus said simply. "Lady Seraphyne. She's the one who did this to Caleb."
Katherine's jaw tightened. "Then we end it. Before she hurts anyone else."
Marcus studied her. "Revenge won't wake Jeremiah."
"This isn't about revenge," Katherine said, her voice low. "This is about making sure no one else ends up in that bed."
For a long moment, they stood in silence. Somewhere deep inside, Katherine knew the next step would pull them further into the Obsidian's game. But as she looked back at the infirmary window, where Jeremiah's shadowed figure lay still, she felt the decision settle like stone.
Whatever it took, she would bring Seraphyne down.
To be continued....