Chapter 41 : Storm, Rain, and the Blazing Resolve
The next day, it was as if the world itself was mourning. The sky darkened, thunder roared without end, and torrential rain lashed the entire region with relentless fury. The wind howled like the roar of some ancient beast awakened from its slumber. Trees bent and twisted wildly, and old buildings groaned, as if ready to collapse at any moment.
In one of the few luxury apartments still standing strong despite the raging weather, Sylvia lay lazily on a plush bed. This room was cleaner than most ruins scattered across the city. The white walls remained intact, the large windows overlooked the devastation, the thick carpets muffled every step, and a crystal chandelier above swayed gently in the breeze leaking through a cracked window.
The owner of this place? Long dead. Taken by me yesterday, in silent death. Only a fleeting look of fear remained before it all ended.
On the lower floors, a few survivors huddled together in despair, praying the storm would pass, praying the world would return to normal. But to Sylvia, they were nothing more than a meaningless backdrop. She didn’t care. All she wanted now was simple to rest.
Yet...Her mind stirred old emotions once more. She remembered how she had once been surrounded, attacked, and trapped. She remembered how humanity repaid kindness with betrayal.
Without her realizing, thick black aura began to seep from her body, flooding the entire room. The walls trembled slightly, and a faint "crack... crack..." echoed from the floor beneath the bed, where hairline fractures began to form. The pressure of her suppressed fury coiled tightly, almost ready to burst.
"They must pay..." Sylvia thought, her dark eyes glowing like embers. "But... when? How soon should I crush that military stronghold?"
The thought coiled around her like a venomous serpent. Yet for now, her body remained languid, lying still, eyes blankly staring at the cracked ceiling, listening to the symphony of the storm outside. The wind battered the window again and again, as if the world itself was urging her to act.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city, inside a crumbling military base...
Sofia sat quietly in one of the dimly lit logistics rooms. In her hand, a small tube filled with swirling red liquid spun slowly—reagent. The red crystal they had risked their lives to obtain—now revealed to be born not only from hardship, but from lies.
Across from her, Viktor lowered his appraisal device with a heavy expression.