Chapter 50 – Thirty Percent of Midnight
Pain had a sound.
Peterson heard it ringing in his ears as he struggled to breathe, pinned to the cracked pavement beneath Afre's boot. Every inhale burned. Every exhale tasted like iron. His vision blurred at the edges, red and violet auras clashing overhead like two suns trying to crush each other.
Afre leaned down slightly, not even straining. "You're tough. I'll give you that. But toughness without weight behind it? That just means you last longer while losing."
Ravena stood a few steps back, staff planted into the ground, shadows coiling lazily around her legs. She wasn't rushing. She didn't need to.
Naëlle shouted his name again, voice cracking. "Peterson! Please—get up!"
Peterson's fingers twitched.
I can't…
I won't…
His system interface flickered violently in his vision, numbers jumping, warnings overlapping.
[WARNING: Host Body Near Collapse]
[WARNING: Veve Synchronization Unstable]
[Midnight Resonance Meter: 30%]
Peterson's teeth clenched.
Thirty percent…
Images flashed through his mind—not memories, but echoes. Shadows swallowing enemies. A lattice of darkness trapping armies. A scythe cutting through monsters that thought themselves kings.
Makroz…
The Midnight King…
Afre felt it first.
The pressure around Peterson shifted.
"Hm?" Afre muttered. "What's this?"
Peterson's chest rose sharply as he forced air into his lungs. His heart slammed once—hard—then twice, then steadied unnaturally.
His voice came out low. Rough.
"…System."
Naëlle's eyes widened. "Peterson—don't!"
[COMMAND RECEIVED]
[ERROR: Midnight King Summoning Incomplete]
[Requirement: 100% Resonance]
[Current Resonance: 30%]
Peterson laughed weakly. "Figures…"
Afre smirked. "Talking to yourself now?"
The system continued, cold and merciless.
[ALTERNATIVE AVAILABLE]
[Emergency Manifestation: PARTIAL MIDNIGHT FORM]
[Power Output: 30%]
[Duration: 3 Minutes]
[Cooldown: 3 Hours]
[WARNING: Severe Physical Strain]
Peterson didn't hesitate.
"Do it."
The world went dark.
Not black—void.
Shadows erupted from Peterson's body like a living storm. Afre was forced back as the ground beneath them cracked outward in a circular wave. Ravena jumped back instantly, eyes glowing as she raised her staff defensively.
Naëlle shielded her face as wind howled past her, carrying whispers that didn't belong to this world.
Peterson rose slowly to his feet.
But it wasn't just Peterson anymore.
A tall silhouette formed behind him, overlapping his body like a second skin made of shadow. Long, flowing darkness draped from his shoulders like a coat, its edges shifting and alive. His eyes burned white—not glowing, but empty, like holes punched through reality.
Veve markings did not appear.
Instead, shadows obeyed.
[PARTIAL MIDNIGHT FORM ACTIVATED]
[TIME REMAINING: 2:59]
Afre's grin vanished.
"…Now that," he said carefully, "is something."
Ravena's voice was tense for the first time. "That's not possession."
Peterson spoke—and his voice carried weight, layered, but still his.
"No," he said. "I'm still me."
He raised his hand.
The shadows moved instantly.
The ground beneath Afre fractured into a perfect grid.
Afre jumped back just as the Midnight Lattice snapped into place, lines of darkness shifting, folding, forcing space to betray him.
"Shit—!" Afre twisted midair, barely avoiding a spatial collapse.
Peterson stepped forward.
[2:31]
His staff formed—not metal, not wood—but shadow hardened into shape. It shifted rapidly: blade, hammer, scythe, whip—each transition seamless, faster than before.
He swung.
The air screamed.
A wave of compressed darkness slammed into Afre, sending him crashing through a wall and into the street beyond.
Naëlle gasped. "Peterson—your control—"
"I know!" he snapped, veins of shadow crawling up his arms. "I can feel it slipping!"
Ravena attacked.
Dark purple energy surged forward, her staff releasing a barrage of condensed shadow spikes.
Peterson raised his hand.
An invisible barrier snapped into existence.
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.
Each impact shattered part of the shield.
[Barrier Integrity: 2/6]
Peterson grimaced. "Damn it—!"
He countered, shadows forming chains that lashed toward Ravena, wrapping around her arm and staff. She snarled, ripping free with a surge of power that sent Peterson skidding backward.
[1:47]
The meter surged.
[Midnight Resonance: 42%… 47%… 50%]
Peterson felt it—more power pressing against his ribs, his spine, his will.
Afre reappeared behind him.
Too fast.
A punch slammed into Peterson's side, ribs cracking audibly.
The shadow coat flickered.
Peterson coughed blood.
Afre grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the ground. "This strength of power isn't enough, kid."
Ravena stood over him, staff glowing. "But now we know."
Peterson tried to rise.
Failed.
[TIME REMAINING: 0:18]
Naëlle screamed, "Peterson, stop! You're tearing yourself apart!"
Peterson turned his head toward her, vision dimming. The shadow form was unraveling, peeling away like smoke in wind.
He forced his voice out.
"…Naëlle."
She ran to him, dropping to her knees. "I'm here."
His hand shook as he grabbed her sleeve. "Open… a portal."
Her breath hitched. "What?"
"Loa's world," he whispered. "Papa Legba… you can do it."
Afre scoffed. "You're not going anywhere."
Peterson's shadow form collapsed completely.
[PARTIAL MIDNIGHT FORM ENDED]
[Cooldown Initiated: 3 Hours]
Peterson lay broken on the ground, barely conscious.
He met Naëlle's eyes.
"Please."
Her jaw tightened. Fear warred with resolve.
"…Okay," she said. "Hold on."
And as Afre and Ravena stepped forward—
Naëlle slammed her palm into the ground and began chanting.
The air cracked.
Reality bent.
A gate began to open.