Puppeteer's Last Dance

A/N: Warning: Upcoming chapters contain descriptions of violence, gore, and intense emotional trauma. Reader discretion is advised.

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Lightning carved through the storm-black sky, each bolt finding Aurelius with devastating precision. The air itself seemed to crackle with ancient power, heavy with the weight of forbidden magic.

Evangeline stood motionless at the ritual's edge, her outer calm belying the intense concentration beneath. Through her will alone, she guided the raw energy coursing through his convulsing form, weaving it with the aether that flowed through his veins. Without her protection, he would have perished within moments—his body reduced to ash by the third or fourth strike.

The domain around them pulsed with each lightning strike, shadows dancing across the twisted landscape like living things. Through it all, Evangeline maintained her vigil, her fingers moving in subtle gestures that conducted the deadly symphony of power.