Chapter 96 : Past-Life Nightmare
The dream began like they always did: in fire.
Not the warm crackle of a hearth or the comforting glow of stove embers—but the ravenous, open-mawed hunger of wildfire. It devoured the city beneath her feet—golden domes melting, marble streets cracking under smoke and heat, people screaming prayers to gods that would not answer.
Revantra stood in the middle of it all, untouched by the flames.
The air around her shimmered. Heat waves danced across the ruined horizon like ghosts in mourning. Ash swirled in the sky like snow.
And then came the angels.
Kneeling.
Rows of them. Wings folded in submission. Heads bowed so low their halos scraped the scorched ground. Their white robes were torn, blackened with soot and divine blood.
At the center of it all, a throne of black stone. Carved from obsidian or shadow, it pulsed faintly with power—living, humming, hungry.
And she was on it.
She saw herself—older, yes, but unmistakably her. Queen Revantra. Not the reborn girl of now, but the true version. The Demon Queen. A creature of calm cruelty, regal and terrible, draped in flowing black lined with crimson. Her eyes burned gold. Her expression held neither rage nor compassion. Only judgment.
A man knelt before her. One of the angels? No—something else. Human, perhaps. Familiar.