— –Alexander Montclair– —
Freedom.
The concept felt so distant now. He'd touched it, barely. Just enough to know what it might feel like. And then it slipped through his fingers, like everything else.
His head hurt. Not the usual kind of pain either, it was deeper, pounding right behind his eyes like someone was driving a nail through his skull. His thoughts were all over the place, scattered and hazy. But the flashes were still there, clear as day. The moments when things had started to make sense again.
He remembered the spear, the one made of blood. It hadn't stopped S'ym for long. Maybe a few seconds at best. Then the bastard was moving again, tearing through the stone walls like it was wet paper. Nothing slowed him down.
They were close. So close. Kitty had a plan, a real one. A way out.
Then something activated. A spell, engraved on the walls of the castle. And somehow, it had blocked Kitty's powers. She couldn't phase anymore. Just like that, it all fell apart.
Fucking magic. Of course there had to be some sort of curse or spell that could block or disrupt mutant abilities.
With no other choice, they'd had to run straight through the front entrance. Right in front of Belasco. That was where it all went wrong. And just like that, he had been left behind.
Still, Illyana had escaped, and that had made everything worth the price.
He could remember an older woman, maybe in her 60s? 70s? She had fought Belasco, and from the brief glimpse he got, he could only assume her to be Storm. Perhaps she had found a way in and out of Limbo, and if so, then Illyana would be safe.
Maybe now, he could finally die in peace.
A few more spells ought to do it. He had felt it back then, his own soul collapsing inside of him. And even now, he felt the exhaustion.
Thinking back, it made sense, if Limbo corrupted the soul, then doing it too fast would destroy it. He had seen first hand how Belasco had taught Illyana from the very basics, and the moment she would cast a spell, they would be left in the room for days, sometimes even a week or two before the next lesson.
It must have been a resting period.
He didn't have that time. Didn't want it either. If he pushed too hard and broke completely, that was fine. If he died here, that meant no one else would come for him.
It'd be over
*Crack*
He flinched.
It sounded like glass breaking, sharp and sudden, but when he looked around, there was nothing. No change in the room. No shift in the air. Just... stillness.
He didn't dwell on it. Couldn't afford to. Time was running out.
He searched the walls, found a piece of rock with a sharp enough edge, and pressed his arm against it. Hard enough to cut. Blood welled up quickly, warm, steady. He knelt. His hands moved almost on their own as he began drawing the circle. No tremble. No hesitation.
But he had only gotten halfway when he felt a small wave of pain. His hands locked up halfway through. Every finger stiffened, joints aching. But he kept going. Pushed through it. And finally, he spoke.
"Audit vocem—"
He tried to chant, but the moment the words left his mouth, he felt his tongue begin to burn. Then, the fire spread through his entire body, causing him to collapse as he clawed at his neck. He couldn't breathe, his whole body was going numb, and as he felt himself begin to fade, the pain subsided.
*Crack*
"A little gift for my most promising student." Belasco said, his tone almost affectionate, snapping him out of his thoughts, and as he looked up he saw Belasco, resting his back on one of the walls as he looked at him. "Can't have you dabbling in magic without my watchful eye, now can we? That would be… irresponsible."
Alex didn't answer, taking a few more heavy breaths to steady himself as he stood up. Looking at Belasco directly in the eyes.
He had almost expected him to be angry, but no, he looked as happy as ever. Like everything they had done had just been another part of his plan. Like everything was still under his control. And perhaps, it was.
"Belasco." He called out, for the first time in months, trying to anger him enough for him to strike.
But the demon only smiled.
"Really, you are going to have to try harder than that." Belasco answered with a shrug. "I never really cared, you know?"
*Crack*
Belasco's smile widened. His eyes lit up with something almost like pride. Almost.
"Oh?" Belasco suddenly raised his eyebrows as he looked at him, the grin on his face spreading as he stepped closer. "The little chick is finally breaking the egg. And here I thought you had died in there."
Then, with a snap of his fingers, Alex fell to the ground again as the pain began to course through him again.
Belasco knelt down, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring the kill. His long, claw-like nails dug into Alex's scalp, yanking his head back with a sharp tug. Alex's eyes watered, but he forced himself to meet Belasco's gaze.
"I had other plans for you, boy." Belasco murmured, his breath hot and sour against Alex's face. "Something grander, more… permanent. But this?" He chuckled as his free hand hovered over Alex's chest. "This is so much better."
Before Alex could react, Belasco's nails plunged into his chest, piercing flesh with a sickening crunch. A white-hot glow pulsed from the demon's hand. His body convulsed, every muscle screaming, but no sound escaped. The pain was beyond comprehension, like his very soul was being torn apart.
After what felt like an eternity, Belasco withdrew his hand, his fingers glistening with dark blood. In his palm, he held a small, pulsating crimson orb. An orb he recognized from the necklace he had given Illyana.
"Perfect timing, as always." Belasco mused, twirling the orb between his fingers like a child's toy. He released Alex's hair, letting his face slam against the ground with a dull thud. Alex's cheek pressed into the cold stone, dirt and blood mingling under his skin as he writhed, struggling to breathe.
Trying to gasp for air, Alex pushed his body up, and as he looked ahead, he saw the very ground beneath him begin to shatter. Like a broken mirror, his surroundings started to crack and fall apart, thin lines spreading outward with every breath. And soon enough, another massive headache slammed into him.
Then, as Belasco released the curse, Alex let out a sharp gasp, chest rising and falling as he tried to stabilize, to get a grip on something, anything. To regain a semblance of control. But he was too far gone now.
Yet still, as he scrambled, and crawled on the ground, he couldn't escape it.
Belasco wasn't reacting. He just stood there, staring at him with that same unreadable expression. So Alex could only assume that what he was seeing wasn't real. Maybe it was all in his head.
Maybe he had finally lost it.
Yet still, even as he scrambled across the ground, dragging his body forward like some half-dead thing, he couldn't escape it. It was disorienting, maybe even more than when he had stepped through the portal his father had made. The world was collapsing.
His vision flickered.
From his right eye, he saw the floor of his cell in Limbo, stone, cold, familiar. But from his left… he was home. Back in his house.
He blinked.
Now he was in the lab, hunched over a half-finished project.
Another blink, he was underwater, floating in the middle of the ocean.
And then again, he was in a field. Open skies. Wind. But the sensation under him never changed. He still felt the cold stone floor beneath his fingers. Not grass. Not water. Not wood. Just stone.
What he saw wasn't real. Not anymore.
He was fading in and out of reality, like something inside him was coming apart. Then, without warning, his body was wrenched upward.
His vision cracked again, splintering like glass. The world around him kept changing, flashing into scenes he didn't recognize, places he couldn't name. Each shift left his head spinning.
He nearly threw up.
But just as fast, the images vanished. And he was back.
Belasco was holding him in the air now, one hand curled tight around his collar, lifting him like he weighed nothing. The daemon's eyes were wide, manic, his grin stretching farther than it should've.
Then the air itself cracked.
The strange, glass-like fractures started to spread, peeling apart until the world around them shattered completely, leaving only him and Belasco, floating in a broken kaleidoscope of space.
And then, piece by piece, Belasco began to crack too. Just like everything else.
For a second, he floated in the air, feeling the pressure of being held by the neck. But the next, he was falling.
Not toward the ground. Not in any direction he could name. Just, away.
He didn't know if he was screaming. Just the sensation of being pulled, violently and endlessly through something. He tried to think, to piece together anything. A spell. A thought. A reason. But nothing came. Just gravity, or what felt like gravity, dragging him through the cracks in existence.
He was weightless and heavy all at once, like his body was stretched across a thousand places and none of them at the same time. The images around him flashed faster now, planets, stars, cities, creatures he couldn't name. Windows into a thousand different worlds, each one slamming open and shut like doors in a storm.
But then, a soundless pressure wave hit him, and his body twisted mid-fall. The next thing he knew, he felt as if he were crashing through a window.
— –Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon– —
The horse's hooves drummed softly against the wet earth, muffled by the dense fog curling along the roadside. Morning mist clung to her hair and cloak, and every breath she took came out in a thin, pale cloud. The road ahead bent into the trees, crooked, narrow, and empty. Good.
She nudged the mare forward with a gentle tap of her heel.
Another few weeks? Maybe. The journey from Velen to Novigrad wasn't short, but at least she had a decent horse under her now. Stubborn, but reliable.
She exhaled through her nose, sharp and tired.
It was almost laughable, in a bitter sort of way. After spending so long in that strange world filled with technology, she had hoped that the Wild Hunt would have lost her scent. That maybe, just maybe, she'd been lost to them long enough that they'd moved on.
Of course not. That would've been too kind.
They'd barely made it back to Skellige, she and Avallac'h, when the Hunt found them again. One breath, they were searching for Yennefer or Geralt, the next they were fighting for their lives.
Avallac'h had taken the brunt of it, cursed with some foul, ancient magic she hadn't even had time to understand. Then, just like that, they were separated.
She'd landed in Crookback Bog. Of all places. Drenched and dazed, stumbling through the muck before the Crones found her. She didn't like to think about them, twisted, grinning things, but she'd escaped before they could do anything permanent.
After that came the Baron.
Philip Strenger. The Bloody Baron, people called him. Strange name, but he hadn't seemed bad, not really. He'd taken her in, let her sleep beneath a real roof for a few nights. Gave her food. Asked few questions. And after she saved his life from a Basilisk, nasty thing, all teeth and scale and stink, he gave her this horse.
"You're the only one who's stuck around, you know that?" She patted the mare's side gently.
The horse snorted, ears flicking back but not breaking pace.
Ciri smiled faintly, then let it fade.
She wished she could've stayed longer. Just a few more days to breathe, to think, to come up with some kind of plan, any plan, for finding Geralt or Yennefer. Ideally Yennefer. If anyone could help with the phylactery and whatever curse Avallac'h was under, it was her.
But things were never that easy. Never had been.
She'd used her power to save the Baron. Just a moment, just a flicker, but that was enough. That kind of magic lit up like a flare to anyone who knew what to look for. Staying meant dragging more people into her mess.
She couldn't do that again.
So she left. Alone. Again.
Now she was headed toward Novigrad, with no real guarantee that anyone would be there waiting. But if she was lucky, Dandelion might be. Loud, charming, and impossible to miss, he had a way of showing up in the places that mattered. If anyone could point her toward Geralt or Yen, it'd be him.
Still, none of that changed the way her bones ached. The way her eyes stung from lack of sleep. The way every muscle in her body felt like it had been pulled too tight, stretched over too many days and too many miles.
She was exhausted. And the worst part?
She didn't know how much farther she had left in her.
But then, just for a moment, that exhaustion vanished.
It was sudden, sharp. Like something hot igniting beneath her skin. Not pain exactly, but pressure. Her blood felt like it was boiling, pulsing with a strange, urgent heat. She sat up straighter in the saddle without thinking, eyes narrowing. The sensation tugged at her, pulling, leading.
She clicked her tongue and nudged her horse faster.
The farther she rode, the stronger it got. The warmth spread through her veins like wildfire, guiding her off the main road and into the thick underbrush beside it. Her mare snorted in protest, ears pinned back, but Ciri pressed her legs in and pulled hard on the reins, forcing her down the narrow slope and into the trees.
Branches scratched at her cloak. Wet leaves slapped her face.
Then she saw him.
A man, maybe a little younger than her, maybe not. Brown-haired, slumped on the ground like he'd been spat out of the world itself. Clothes torn, arms scraped and bleeding. He looked like hell. Worse, actually. Like he'd been running on empty for weeks and had finally given up pretending he could stand.
But the moment she drew near, his head snapped up.
Something shifted behind his eyes. A flicker of awareness. Recognition?
"Ah… fuck." He struggled upright, legs shaking beneath him.
Ciri blinked. He said it like he knew her. Like she was someone he hadn't expected to see again.
Then he dropped.
Clutching at his head, he collapsed to his knees with a strangled grunt, his entire body tensing like he was fighting something inside himself. And just like that, the heat in her blood flared again, twice as strong, thrumming in her ears like a war drum.
'No. No, it can't be.' Her breath caught.
"Shit." She hissed under her breath.
She knew that feeling. That chaotic pull. The way the world seemed to twist and stretch around him. It was the same way her powers had first surged to life, wild, raw, and wrong.
But it wasn't possible. She was supposed to be the only one. The only one with the Elder Blood.
Kicking her leg over the saddle, she dropped down and sprinted toward him.
"Hey, breathe!" She barked, dropping to one knee beside him. Her eyes scanned the treeline, her fingers already twitching toward her sword. She could feel it, like lightning about to strike. If she could sense him, then the Wild Hunt wouldn't be far behind.
"Calm down." She snapped, gripping his face and forcing him to look at her. "You can control it. But you need to focus. Look at me."
His eyes, half-glazed and fever-bright, locked onto hers. And then he collapsed, dead weight in her arms.
"Damn it!" She growled, her jaw tight as she caught him before he hit the ground. He was lighter than she expected, but she didn't hesitate. Slung him over her shoulder, dragged him to the horse, and shoved him over the saddle with more effort than grace.
They had to move. Now.
She swung up behind him, grabbed the reins, and kicked the mare into a gallop, mud flying beneath them as the forest swallowed their path.
The Hunt would come. But they'd have to catch her first.
— –Tandy Bowen– —
Sitting up with a groan, Tandy looked around, her hazy mind slowly starting to remember what had happened. And then it hit her, the men, the boat, the pill. As she finished putting the pieces together, she shot upright, her heart hammering in her chest. She staggered to her feet and bolted for the front of the cell, grabbing the cold iron bars hard enough that her knuckles went white.
"Alex!" She shouted, her voice cracking as panic surged through her. "Alex!"
She darted from side to side, trying to peer into the cells across from hers, past hers, anywhere. The corridor curved just enough to block her view. Her stomach twisted.
"Alex!"
"You're gonna alert the guards if you keep screaming like that." A voice said, calm and worn down.
As she spun around, she saw a middle aged Asian man who sat against the far wall of her cell, slouched in a corner, dressed in a filthy, torn suit. His tie was gone, shirt half unbuttoned, and his face, sunken and tired, barely moved as he looked at her. Like he'd seen this all before.
"I'd like to enjoy my final moments in peace." He added dryly, closing his eyes like he meant it.
Tandy froze for a moment as she stared at him. She hadn't even realized she wasn't alone.
There were others. A few scattered bodies sitting or lying against the walls. Some looked awake. Some didn't. She vaguely recognized a few faces, passengers from the boat. One woman was quietly sobbing into her knees.
"Have you…" Tandy swallowed. "Have any of you seen a guy named Alex? Brown hair, brown eyes..." She explained, going into as much detail as she could.
Yet no one answered. Just blank stares. One girl shook her head faintly before turning away.
"They've been taking people." Another voice spoke up, this one from a cell across the corridor. A young black man, sitting with his back against the wall, his arms loosely resting over his knees. "One at a time."
"Taking them where?" She asked as she felt her throat tighten.
"They don't say. Just show up, grab someone, and disappear." He looked away. "Sometimes they bring 'em back."
"But? You said sometimes." Tandy quickly stepped closer to the bars, gripping them again. "What happens the other times?"
"I don't know." He answered, hesitating for a few moments before adding. "But those that do come back… they're not the same."
She felt her mouth go dry at the answer.
"They're a mess." He said, voice lower now. "They are shivering and acting like they are high as hell."
There was a long pause. Then the man in the suit spoke again, not even bothering to open his eyes.
"It's definitely a drug." He said flatly. "Or something like one."
Tandy paced around the cell for a few moments before she pressed her back to the wall, sliding down until she was sitting on the cold floor. Her legs folded up against her chest as she stared at the opposite wall, not really seeing it. Her mind wouldn't stop racing.
And, then, she finally broke down crying.
What was she supposed to do? Her family didn't care, she'd be surprised if they even realized she was gone. No one would be looking for her. And, the one person she could trust, was…
"Ahhhh!" She finally shouted letting out all of her frustrations. Just when things had started to finally make sense.
She thought, God, she had really thought, that once Alex settled into Empire State, once the dust from all the chaos had cleared, maybe there'd be a place for her. For them.
She'd seen him pull away, sure. Seen the stress, the sleepless nights, the way he sometimes stared off like he was somewhere else entirely. She hadn't blamed him for it. Not really.
But now?
Now she just wanted to scream for what they'd lost. For the life they might've had. The little moments she'd let herself believe in, the stupid daydreams of holding his hand in public, crashing at his dorm, laughing over takeout on a fire escape.
All of it, ripped away.
And here she was. Alone in a cell, crying for a version of her life that was never going to happen.
— — —
A few days passed, a few days in the cold cell, surrounded by strangers. There was no food, no real rest. Even the bathroom was just a simple bucket that the guards would pick up to clean once a day. Thankfully, she had been able to talk with the other girls to form a temporary barrier around each other whenever they needed to use it. Though that didn't make having to use a bucket any easier. Still, the guards passed them wet rags to clean themselves with once a day which did somewhat help make things more bearable.
Maybe they were being kind, or maybe they didn't want them to get sick. After all, she was sure that if a disease spread through the cells it would make their experiments worse.
She had only dazed off a few times, but she felt as if she had gotten no sleep. The cold concrete and being surrounded by strangers didn't help. And to make matters worse, the place had begun to stink, even with the few stuff the guards were doing to keep them "healthy."
In the end, she had fully given into the delusion. Rather than thinking about her situation, where there was nothing she could do, she simply decided to imagine what her life outside could have been.
It hurt to think about, but, at the same time, it felt nice. It gave her hope for what she would do if she were to get out. Crying felt nice too. It was the sort of stuff she had stopped herself from doing before, but now, it felt like a waste not to.
She was still wiping tears off her cheeks when she heard it, footsteps. Heavy boots.
Her head snapped up, eyes red and blurry, just as a group of armed guards came into view, their rifles slung low but ready. They flanked a man in a crisp white lab coat, clean and pressed like he'd walked out of a boardroom instead of a prison.
The scientist scanned the room with clinical disinterest, flipping through a clipboard as if reading off a grocery list.
"You." He said, pointing at the black man across the corridor, the one who'd spoken to her earlier. Then his gaze drifted over the others. "You." He said again, this time to the Asian man slumped in front of her.
And then his eyes locked on Tandy.
She tried to look away, begging in her mind that he wouldn't pick her, but it was too late. His expression didn't change, but his voice sharpened just slightly, like he was already imagining what she'd look like under a microscope.
"And you."
She froze. Her stomach turned to ice.
Behind him, the guards moved in sync, rifles raised, eyes hard. One of them barked an order, she couldn't even register the words, and her body just moved. Numb. Obedient. Like something in her had already given up.
She didn't want to go. Every part of her screamed not to. But her legs carried her forward anyway.
They made them walk in front, with the guards right behind them in case they tried anything. They moved down the corridor, past dozens of other cells, faces pressed to the bars. Some hopeless. Some curious. All silent.
Her eyes darted frantically, searching every face. She wanted to see Alex one last time, one last time before she died… or worse. But no, he wasn't there. She wanted to ask. She wanted to scream his name.
But her lips wouldn't part. The fear stopping her from doing anything.
A few minutes later, they were led into a stark white room that smelled like bleach and antiseptic. The lights above buzzed and hummed, painfully bright, like they were meant to disorient more than illuminate.
She was shoved into a metal chair, her wrists and ankles quickly strapped down. The restraints were cold. Tight. Impersonal. Across from her, she saw the same happen to the other two. All of them in rows now, like test subjects lined up on a conveyor belt.
The man in the lab coat paced in front of them, flipping through his clipboard with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Now." He said, cheerful in a way that made her stomach turn. "Normally I like to go one by one. Take my time. Be thorough."
He paused, adjusted his glasses.
"But today's special. I've made a few… adjustments." He said, tapping the side of the clipboard like he was proud of himself. "And I want to do some quick comparative tests. See which one of you yields the most satisfactory results."
Tandy's fingers twitched uselessly against the restraints. Her heart was pounding so loud, it drowned out everything else. And then, the man in the coat pulled a syringe.
"Don't worry." He said, as if he were commenting on the weather. "You'll enjoy this far more than I will."
The smile that followed wasn't cruel. It was worse than cruel, it was casual. Like this was just another day at the office.
Tandy tensed, her breath catching in her throat as he approached. Then came the sting, just a sharp prick in her arm, barely more than a pinch.
For a moment, nothing.
She clenched her teeth, bracing for pain. She expected fire, or sickness, or something that matched the horror clawing at her chest. But what came next made her gasp.
Warmth. Spreading through her veins like sunlight. Starting in her chest and blooming outward. Her hands, her legs, her neck, everything melted into comfort. Like slipping into a hot bath after a storm. Like wrapping herself in a blanket she hadn't known she missed.
She felt… Safe. Like nothing could hurt her. Like everything was going to be okay. Tears welled in her eyes again, but they weren't from fear this time.
She wanted to cry because, for the first time in forever, she didn't feel afraid. Didn't feel hollow or small or lost. The noise in her head dulled to a soft hum. Her muscles relaxed without her meaning to.
It was so easy to just let go.
But then, that warmth shifted, subtly at first. Like something underneath it had begun to rot. The lights in the room grew brighter. Brighter than they had any right to be. She blinked. Then blinked again.
No change.
The brightness didn't dim. It grew, spreading like fire through her vision. White-hot. Blinding. It wasn't just the fluorescents anymore, it was everywhere. It was in her eyes, behind them, inside her skull.
She shut her eyes tight.
It didn't help.
She could still see it, brilliant and colorless, pressing in from every direction. It wasn't light like a lamp or a torch. It was light that invaded, that stripped things bare. It was harsh and cold and alive.
Her breath caught. Her heart thudded somewhere far away, muffled beneath the pressure in her ears.
Then came the vertigo.
Like her body was being peeled away, layer by layer, stretched into something she couldn't comprehend. The room, the chair, her own skin, all of it felt distant. Irrelevant. As if she'd been yanked through herself and into some place that had no shape, no up or down. Only light. Only noise.
But there was no sound. Just that overwhelming presence. Like staring into the sun with your soul.
She tried to scream but no air came out. Her mouth opened, but her voice was lost, swallowed by the sheer weight of it all. Thoughts frayed. Time slipped.
There was no her. No now. No before.
Just this blinding, burning something, chewing at the edges of her mind.
And then, as suddenly as it came, it was gone.