The Villain Professor's Second Chance

I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees, eyes locked onto Anastasia's. The firelight flickered between us, casting long shadows along the walls of the cabin. There was something off, something gnawing at the back of my mind since we left the altar. And now, with Aurelia and Lyan out scouting, I finally had the opportunity to address it.

"So," I began, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade, "why did you do it?"

Anastasia looked up at me, confusion crossing her features. "What are you talking about, Draven?" she asked, her voice trembling. She played the part well—the nervous mage, confused and unsure—but I wasn't buying it. Not this time.

"The countdown," I said, my tone cold and unyielding. "Every loop, you always mention the countdown. Always. And yet, this time, you didn't say a word." I leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest, my eyes narrowing. "Why is that, Anastasia?"

Her face went pale, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

I didn't move, didn't blink. I simply watched her, the silence stretching between us, growing heavier with each passing second. "You always tell us how much time we have," I continued, my voice low, almost a whisper. "Every loop, every mission, you always make sure we know exactly how long we have until the main event. But this time..." I shook my head slowly, my gaze never leaving hers. "You didn't even mention it once."

Yes.

Just like how Aurelia has her quest board talking about protecting the city, my quest board is about protecting the queen.

And Anastasia's quest board is only a countdown.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, something shifted in her eyes—a flicker of something dark, something that didn't belong. Her face relaxed, the fear melting away, replaced by something else. Her lips twisted into a smile, cruel and mocking, and she let out a soft, dark laugh.

"You really are sharp, Draven," she said, her voice no longer trembling. It was different now—deeper, more confident, with an edge that sent a chill down my spine. She straightened, her posture changing, the nervousness gone. "It took you long enough."

I didn't react. I simply watched, my expression cold, detached. "So," I said, my tone flat, "you're not Anastasia."

She laughed again, the sound echoing through the small cabin. "No," she said, her eyes glowing with a sinister light. "I'm not."

I studied her, taking in the subtle changes—the way her eyes seemed to burn with an unnatural glow, the way her smile twisted her features into something almost monstrous. "Tiamat," I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Her smile widened, her eyes narrowing. "An alter ego, if you want to be specific," she said, her tone dripping with mockery. "But close enough."

I remained impassive, watching her with a detached curiosity. It was almost fascinating—how easily she had hidden beneath Anastasia's guise, how seamlessly she had played her role. "Why now?" I asked, my voice cold, devoid of emotion.

"Why appear now?"

She shrugged, her expression one of cruel amusement. "Because, Draven, I grew tired of the game," she said, her eyes locking onto mine. "And because, frankly, I wanted to see your face when you realized you'd been deceived." Find adventures on My Virtual Library Empire

I didn't give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I simply watched, my gaze steady, unflinching. "What now, then?" I asked, my voice flat.

Tiamat's alter ego smiled, her eyes glinting with a malevolent light. "Now," she said, her voice echoing with a power that didn't belong to Anastasia, "we see just how far you're willing to go."

Before I could react, her right hand began to shift, contorting, dark energy pulsing through her body. The skin twisted, blackened, morphing into something unnatural. Her arm extended, her fingers dissolving into a swirling mass of darkness—a black hole of pure abyssal energy.

I watched, my eyes narrowing slightly, but I didn't move. There was no panic, no fear. I simply watched as the black hole expanded, growing larger, the abyssal energy pulsing, consuming everything in its path. She moved toward me, her smile twisted with malevolent glee.

"Surprised, Draven?" she taunted, her voice echoing, the power behind it unmistakable. The air around us seemed to warp, the very fabric of reality twisting under the force of her magic.

But I remained still. I watched as the black hole grew closer, as it began to engulf me, my body consumed by the swirling darkness. There was no resistance, no struggle. I allowed myself to be swallowed, the world around me fading into nothingness, replaced by a void of darkness.

Tiamat's laughter echoed through the void, a sound that seemed to reverberate through my very soul. "You didn't even resist," she said, her voice filled with mocking amusement. "Are you truly that resigned to your fate, Draven? Or do you have some plan I cannot see?"

I opened my eyes, the darkness around me slowly giving way to an otherworldly landscape. We were no longer in the cabin. The surroundings were surreal—twisted shards of rock floated in the air, suspended by some unseen force. The sky was an endless void of darkness, stars scattered across it like shattered glass. The energy here was different from the plane where I had faced Tiamat before. It was more personal, more focused—as if it were a manifestation of a fractured consciousness.

I turned my gaze to Tiamat's alter ego, still in Anastasia's form. She stood a few paces away, her eyes glowing with that same sinister light, her expression one of curiosity. "You didn't even resist," she repeated, her voice softer now, almost contemplative. "Are you truly that resigned? Or is there something more?"

I met her gaze, my expression calm, unreadable. "The cabin is our safe house," I said, my voice steady, cold. "It would be troublesome if it were destroyed in a struggle. Here, it's just you and me. No distractions."

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to gauge my intentions. For a moment, there was silence—a heavy, oppressive silence that seemed to hang in the air between us. Then, she smiled, her lips curling into a twisted, mocking grin.

"You think you understand me, Draven?" she asked, her voice filled with amusement. "You think you know what I'm capable of?"

I watched her, my gaze steady, unflinching. "I've faced you before," I said, my tone even. "You're not the first version of Tiamat I've encountered. And you won't be the last."

Her smile faltered, her eyes narrowing, the dark energy around her flaring. The air grew heavier, the pressure building as the energy swirled, the abyssal magic responding to her emotions. She stepped closer, her expression shifting between amusement and annoyance.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" she said, her voice low, dangerous. "You think you can defy me? That you can break this cycle?"

I didn't answer. I simply watched, my eyes locked onto hers, my expression cold, detached. Her frustration was evident, the energy around her growing more chaotic, the twisted shards of rock vibrating, shuddering under the force of her power.

She lashed out, her hand moving with a speed that would have been impossible for a normal human to follow. Dark energy surged towards me, a wave of abyssal power that seemed to warp the very air around it. I didn't flinch. I raised a hand, my own magic flaring, deflecting the worst of the attack, redirecting the energy away from me.

Tiamat's alter ego paused, her eyes narrowing further, her expression one of annoyance. "Why do you resist?" she asked, her voice filled with frustration. "Why do you keep coming back, knowing that each loop ends in failure?"

I tilted my head slightly, considering her words. Then, I smirked, a cold, calculated smile that seemed to infuriate her further. "Because," I said, my voice calm, deliberate, "there's something you fear. Something that makes you desperate to stop me from reaching the altar. And that means there's a way to end this."

She laughed, the sound echoing through the void, her eyes glinting with malice. "End this? Foolish mortal," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You think you can comprehend the depths of my power? You think you can defy the inevitable?"

I took a step forward, my gaze never leaving hers. "I don't need to comprehend it," I said, my voice cold, unyielding. "I just need to find the cracks. And you've already shown me one."

Her smile faded, her eyes widening slightly, a flicker of something—something almost like fear—crossing her features. For the first time, her confident facade seemed to waver, her expression shifting to one of genuine concern.

The dark energy around us grew thicker, the air colder, the oppressive weight pressing down on me. The void seemed to twist, contorting, as if responding to her emotions. Her eyes narrowed, her gaze locking onto mine, her expression hardening.

"Let's see if you can survive long enough to find these so-called cracks, Draven," she said, her voice low, dangerous. The void began to collapse around us, the twisted shards of rock shuddering, the darkness closing in, the oppressive energy growing more intense.

I watched her, my gaze steady, unflinching. As the void twisted, contorted, I took a step forward, my eyes locked onto hers.

"That's my line," I said, my voice cold, calm.

And then the darkness swallowed us both.