11- Cracks and Whispering Shadows
The earth bore the scars of war.
The sky was still gray, the wind still cold.
V’s motionless body lay on the ground. His broken staff rested a few steps away, its severed chains buried in the soil. A heavy silence had settled over the surroundings, yet it felt less like peace and more like the labored breaths of an approaching storm.
The Eternals had formed a circle.
But this was not a circle of protection.
It was perhaps a court.
Perhaps the beginning of a gallows.
Ikaris stood tense, his shoulders rigid, eyes fixed on V with an icy, piercing gaze.
Druig crossed his arms over his chest, a familiar smirk on his face—this time laced with venom.
Sersi seemed caught in between, her eyes shimmering with a fractured hope.
Phastos clenched his fists, staring down at the ground, trying to swallow the fear rising within him.
Ajak had her hands clasped tightly together, silently praying with an expression carved by pain.
After several seconds of wordless tension, Ikaris erupted:
“This ends here,” he said, his voice like the slash of a blade. “You all saw him. With your own eyes. This… thing… is our enemy.”
Druig raised an eyebrow, his tone coldly mocking.
“How quick you are to judge, Ikaris. Are you sure you’re not just speaking to your reflection?”
Ikaris turned to him, lightning flashing in his eyes. “I am the guardian of this world. And you—you’re a coward who’s always flirting with the dark.”
Druig stepped forward, his gaze sharp as steel. “Or maybe I just understand the meaning of power better than you ever could.”
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Sersi intervened, her voice trembling.
“Enough! This fight is taking us nowhere!”
But her words weren’t enough to still the storm raging between them.
Phastos spoke through clenched teeth. “We can’t ignore this! What if he wakes up… and attacks us?”
Ajak’s prayer was left unfinished as she slowly opened her eyes. Her voice was soft, yet cracked like a fractured shield.
“There is still hope. A choice is being made within him.”
Ikaris shook his head slowly.
“A choice?” he asked, his voice low with simmering rage. “What did you see in him, Ajak? One of us? No. What we saw… was a monster. And monsters must be stopped.”
Druig let out a harsh, ironic laugh. “The true monstrosity is killing your own brother just because you fear the dark.”
His words silenced Ikaris.
But the tension in the air thickened, as if everyone was on the verge of attack.
?
V was lost within himself.
He was being dragged through the darkness…
And then—
A figure appeared.
A tall, slender man.
Black wings unfurled from his back, casting an even deeper shade upon the night.
His eyes burned with searing red light.
His face was both familiar and terrifying.
With a trembling voice, V asked:
“Who… are you?”
The man stepped forward.
With each step, the surroundings darkened, shadows danced in his wake.
His voice was deep, echoing, filled with an incomprehensible power:
“I am the Herald of Oblivion.”
His wings spread wide, shrouding the sky.
“Do not fear the darkness within you, child,” he said.
“The dark has not come to destroy you. It has come to complete you.”
V staggered back, trembling.
A war raged inside him, like a soul trapped between fire and ice.
“I… I just want… to be free.”
The Herald of Oblivion leaned in closer.
His eyes locked with V’s.
“There is no salvation.”
“There is only acceptance.”
The darkness dripping from his wings began to coil around V.
“If you deny yourself, you will vanish.”
“But if you embrace your darkness… you will become eternal.”
?
In the real world, the Eternals were still locked in debate.
Sersi, her eyes glassy with tears, turned to Ikaris.
“If we kill him, what does that make us? When did we give up on our humanity?”
Ikaris clenched his jaw, his voice broken. “I am protecting this world. The people. He… he could destroy them all.”
Phastos took a heavy step forward, sorrow crackling in his voice:
“Maybe that’s exactly why we need to understand him. Because… we’ve become strangers to humanity ourselves.”
Ajak took a deep breath.
She was tired.
So very tired.
“We will wait,” she said at last, her voice weighty like a verdict.
“We will wait until he wakes. And then… he will speak for himself.”
Her words were like the declaration of a temporary truce.
No one was satisfied, but no one could argue.
Ikaris pulled back, fists clenched.
Druig rolled his eyes but remained silent.
Phastos lowered his head.
Sersi wiped away her tears.
And they all formed a slow, heavy circle around V.
Silence fell once more.
?
Within himself, V took another step.
As the Herald of Oblivion faded from sight, only one final whisper lingered in his ears:
“Remember…
The dark will make you whole.”
A small crack formed in V’s heart.
And from that crack, a new power—tainted by shadows—began to seep.
The awakening was near.
Very near.
And the world… was not ready for it.
