Villain's Last Chance

The silence after the attack was more unsettling than the fight itself. The labyrinth had withdrawn, but its presence still lingered in the air, pressing against my skin like a second shadow.

Cairon had taken the lead again, his steps sharp, purposeful. He hadn't spoken much since the mist's attack, but I could feel the tension radiating off him.

Marek, trailing behind us, muttered under his breath. "Tell me we're getting close to something useful. Because if I have to almost die one more time—"

"You will," Cairon interrupted, his voice edged with certainty. "This place isn't done with us yet."

I didn't argue. The labyrinth's tests weren't random. They were deliberate, targeted. It wanted something from us. Or from me.

And I had a feeling I knew what.

The path ahead sloped downward, leading into another cavernous hall. The air grew thick with the scent of old parchment and iron. A bad combination.

Marek wrinkled his nose. "Smells like a library got burned down in here."

It wasn't far from the truth. The chamber was filled with broken pillars, scorched walls, and shelves stacked with decayed tomes. At the center of the room was a stone pedestal, cracked but still standing.

And on it—a book.

No. Not just a book. The Codex.

But that was impossible. The Codex was already bound to me, sealed within my very being.

Yet here it was, resting on the pedestal like it had always been waiting.

I stepped closer. The air pulsed around it, the same energy I felt whenever the Codex responded to me. The book's cover was black as ink, its pages gilded in gold, humming with something ancient and hungry.

Cairon was beside me in an instant, his sword drawn. "This isn't right."

"No," I agreed. "It isn't."

Marek took a cautious step back. "I don't suppose we could just not touch the clearly cursed object and keep walking?"

A whisper slithered through the air.

"You cannot ignore what is already written."

The voice wasn't human. It came from everywhere and nowhere at once, resonating through the chamber like a second heartbeat.

The book trembled. Then, it opened.

A page flipped on its own. The text was written in blood—my blood. I knew it before I even recognized the symbols. The same glowing script that sometimes appeared on my skin, remnants of my bond with the Codex.

My stomach twisted.

The words began to shift, rearranging themselves until they formed something new. Something meant for me.

A pact.

Cairon stiffened beside me, reading it as quickly as I did. His voice was sharp, warning. "Elara, don't—"

I barely heard him. The pact's meaning burned itself into my mind.

The labyrinth wasn't just testing me. It was offering me a choice.

Power.

Unshackled, limitless power. A way to sever my bindings to the Codex—not by rejecting it, but by mastering it. By becoming something beyond the villain I once was.

But there was a price.

There was always a price.

Marek's voice cut through the heavy silence. "I don't like that look on your face. At all."

I clenched my fists, forcing my mind to clear. The pact wanted something in return for its power.

Blood. A sacrifice.

And not just anyone's. Mine.

The Codex pulsed against my chest, its power already recognizing the offer. It was waiting for my decision.

I took a breath. Steadied myself. Then I reached for the book.

Cairon caught my wrist before I could touch it.

"Elara." His voice was low, controlled. But his grip was firm. "Think about what you're doing."

"I have."

His jaw tightened. "This isn't the way."

"You don't know that."

His golden eyes burned into mine. "I do."

The tension between us was sharp enough to cut. The air crackled. Something between us had been shifting since the moment we entered this cursed labyrinth, but now—now—it felt like it was reaching a breaking point.

I swallowed hard. "If I don't take control of this power, it will control me."

Cairon's grip on my wrist didn't loosen. If anything, it tightened. "Then we find another way."

"There isn't another way." My voice was quieter now. "You know that."

He did. That was the worst part. I could see it in the way his expression hardened.

But he still didn't let go.

Marek, sensing the growing storm between us, took an awkward step back. "So, uh. Not to interrupt, but if you two need a moment to dramatically argue over potentially life-altering decisions, can we do it after we leave the creepy death chamber?"

Neither of us moved.

Neither of us looked away.

Then, slowly, Cairon exhaled.

When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. "If you do this, there's no going back."

I knew that. I had known it from the moment I first woke in this body, bound to a fate I never asked for.

But I wasn't just a villain anymore. I wasn't just a pawn in this story.

I was rewriting it.

So I pulled my wrist free from Cairon's grip.

Then, with steady hands, I placed them on the open Codex.

The moment my skin met the pages, the world shattered.

Pain lanced through me, deep and consuming, like molten fire carving through my veins. The chamber blurred. The walls trembled.

And I fell.

Fell into darkness. Into memories that were not mine. Into whispers of power and death and choices long forgotten.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard Cairon shout my name.

But it was too late.

The pact had been sealed.