Chapter 13: The Shadowed Hunt
The Nevermore grounds were a gothic maze under the moon's pale glow, statues looming like silent judges, their stone eyes glinting with judgment. The air carried a sharp ozone tang, a metallic bite that stung Oliver Smoak's throat, tying to the sour fear of the mirror room and the Rave'N's chaotic aftermath. His boots pounded frost-kissed grass, each step a desperate drumbeat, breath fogging in the chill night.
The psychic minion pursued, a formless shadow blurring through a stone pillar, its ethereal growls a physical force vibrating in his bones.
"It's not real, but it can shred us."
His heart thundered, the compass in his pocket humming wildly, its needle spinning, a tether to Glint's gift and the Serpent's mystery. The minion's claw swiped, a hiss like tearing silk ripping his jacket's sleeve.
[SYSTEM: Warning—Psychic Construct Detected. Physical Barriers Ineffective. Recommend Tactical Retreat.]
The System's voice was a cold jolt, his fingers brushing his tie, a frayed anchor against panic.
"Tactical retreat? I'm sprinting for my life, you digital nag!"
Wednesday Addams ran beside him, her black dress a shadow in motion, braid swinging like a metronome, eyes scanning with forensic precision.
"She's got a plan. She always does. I just need to keep pace."
The grounds' chill bit his skin, the minion's growls a relentless pulse, urging him to think faster, move smarter.
Wednesday veered into a hidden garden, its hedges a tangled labyrinth, the air warm with damp earth and the heavy scent of exotic flowers, their petals slick with dew.
She pointed to a rusted drain grate, half-buried in moss, its edges crusted with age. "It won't fit," she said, voice taut, fingers gripping her knife with lethal intent. "Psychic echo. It has mass."
Oliver nodded, mind racing, sweat beading on his brow. He cast a Spinae spell, conjuring a wall of thorns, their jagged tips glinting like blades under the moonlight.
The minion passed through, unfazed, its growls louder, a psychic weight crushing his chest.
"Physical barriers are useless. It's a mind game."
He glanced at Wednesday, her eyes blazing with resolve, her knife slashing the air in frustration. The garden's warmth clung to his skin, flowers brushing his arms, their scent cloying.
"We outsmart it. We confuse it."
His resolve hardened, the compass's hum syncing with his pulse, a call to action tying to the mirror room's violet glow and the Serpent's mystery.
They ducked into a greenhouse, its glass walls fogged with condensation, the air thick with the rustle of leaves and an earthy tang, a faint metallic undercurrent lingering. The minion's presence was a crushing force, its psychic hum throbbing in Oliver's bones, his head pounding like a drum.
"Think, Smoak. Morticia said feel it. What's its weakness?"
He recalled her lesson—emotion over logic—and cast a Sonorus spell, amplifying a cacophony of screeching metal and shattering glass, the sounds bouncing off the glass walls. The minion faltered, its form flickering like a dying flame, overwhelmed by the sensory assault.
"It's working. Chaos is its kryptonite."
Wednesday's lips twitched, a rare nod of approval, as she tossed a rock, its clatter amplifying the noise. The greenhouse's humidity was suffocating, leaves sticking to their arms, sticky with sap.
Oliver's magic surged, improvisational and alive, a spark of confidence igniting. The minion's growls faded, its form unraveling, a shadow dissolving under the sonic barrage.
The minion shattered, its fragments glowing like fireflies, coalescing into a small, dark crystal that pulsed faintly, its cold surface chilling in Wednesday's hand. The air cleared, smelling of fresh rain, a stark relief from the ozone's bite.
[SYSTEM: Minion Destroyed. Reward: 100 SP. Artifact Found: Eldric's Psychic Crystal.]
Oliver's shoulders sagged, relief mingling with exhaustion, his breath ragged. Wednesday held the crystal, her eyes narrowing, voice low and deliberate. "This is a key. His leash for his minions. A piece of his network."
"We've got a piece of Eldric. But it's a trap, too."
The greenhouse's silence was heavy, the crystal's glow a warning, the compass humming, pointing toward Jericho. The narrative bridge loomed: the crystal was a weapon, but using it demanded allies, a new strategy forming, tying to the mirrors, the gem, and the Serpent's mystery.
"The minion's gone, but Eldric's still out there. The crystal's a key, but it's a double-edged sword. Wednesday's my partner now, not just a guide. Enid's safe in the girls' dorm, but I can't tell her about this—not the System, not the crystal. It's my secret, and it's staying that way. Jericho's next, and I'm not failing."
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