Chapter 156 The Shadow Lord Returns
In the cold, sterile whiteness of the vast space, a suffocating silence filled the air. Tension prickled and swelled between the figures as they stood, disoriented, all too aware of Loki perched on a grand, dark throne ahead. His eyes bored into each of them, holding a glint of malice barely masked beneath a sardonic grin.
Williams, teeth clenched, broke the silence, unable to contain the fury boiling within him. "What's the meaning of this, you bastard?!" he spat, fists tightening as he stormed forward, his every step weighed with rage. But just as he closed the distance, he was jerked to a halt, his legs suddenly locked in place as if seized by invisible chains. Confusion flashed across his face, and he looked down, horror dawning in his eyes as he noticed a jagged rod, black and rusted, stabbed through his abdomen, its twisted metal cruelly embedded deep within his flesh.
"Arrgh!" he choked, his hands instinctively clutching at the rod, blood beginning to seep through his fingers. His breathing grew labored, each exhale a pained rasp. "Damn it!"
Behind him, more screams filled the air. Williams turned his head, jaw clenched against the agony, and saw the others in similar states of distress. Each of them had been impaled by rods, the metal spikes jutting obscenely from their torsos, gleaming wetly with their blood. The pain was unmistakably real, tearing through their bodies in waves, each pulse of agony deepening the horror in their eyes.
"See what happens," Loki's voice cut through the chaos, a mocking lilt in his tone, "when you attempt something I never sanctioned? Wait for my command next time, or I'll make you suffer worse."
Trisha staggered forward, trembling, her face pale and contorted in a mixture of fear and anger. "Why… why are you doing this?" she whispered, though her voice was barely steady. But her defiance was rewarded with a silent, dark sneer from Loki. The rod in her gut twisted sharply, digging further into her abdomen until it burst through her back with a sickening crunch of bone and muscle, splattering blood onto the cold white floor. Her scream was agonizingly raw, her knees buckling as she collapsed, her body wracked with pain. Discover more content at empire
Josh, standing beside her, balled his fists, his gaze burning with hatred. "When I get to you, I swear, I'll kill you, you—" His threat was cut off, his words dissolving into a strangled scream as his rod plunged deeper, tearing through muscle and sinew. He doubled over, his hands clawing at the air, his body spasming under the relentless torture. Blood dribbled from his lips as he struggled to stay standing, every breath a fight against the merciless agony.
"Do be quiet," Loki sneered, waving a dismissive hand. His eyes gleamed with twisted satisfaction as he watched them writhe, feeding on their anguish. Then, his gaze sharpened, and with a casual flick of his wrist, the white void began to shift, dissolving around them, slowly transforming into a new, chilling scene.
The pristine, colorless space around them shattered, replaced by a fragmented vision—a glimpse into Sarah's past. It was her memory, stark and vivid, as if plucked from her mind and displayed for all to see. A suffocating dread filled her as she recognized the familiar scenes unfolding around them.
"What… what are you doing?" she stammered, horrified. "These are my memories! You don't have the right to invade them like this! Stop it!"
Her plea was ignored. Loki smirked, savoring her desperation. "Oh, but that's precisely the point, Sarah. Let's see all your dirty little secrets, shall we?"
The scenes shifted rapidly, snapshots of Sarah's life flashing by, each one more damning than the last. Her deeds, the choices she had buried deep, the dark paths she had walked—all of them laid bare. The group watched in appalled silence as the memories painted a portrait of a woman driven by selfish motives, of cruelties inflicted without remorse, of actions unredeemed by any noble purpose. As each memory unraveled, Sarah's proud, defiant posture shriveled into one of shame. Her shoulders hunched, her head bowed, the arrogance she once wielded so effortlessly stripped away. Her lips parted, but no words came—no defense, no denial. She was laid bare, vulnerable and humiliated.
After what felt like an eternity, Loki finally pulled them from her mind, leaving Sarah standing there, hollow and broken. Loki's grin widened as he turned his gaze to Williams, his eyes alight with a new, sadistic excitement.
"I'd love to do you next," Loki drawled, his voice slick with amusement, "but I think our little spy deserves a proper introduction first. Isn't that right, spy?"
Williams's heart hammered in his chest, fear prickling his skin. He staggered back, eyes darting to the others, confusion and panic gripping him. "No… no, I'm not the—" His words were cut off by a searing pain as the rod in his gut wrenched deeper. He let out a strangled cry, doubling over as the blood poured from his wound.
"Oh, don't worry. Since you're so eager, we'll see through *all* the spy's memories." Loki smirked, lifting a hand.
The scene around them shifted once more, this time plunging them into a decrepit shack. A thick stench of decay hung in the air, mingling with the cries of terrified children huddled in filthy cages. The sight was sickening—a haunting portrait of human depravity. One by one, the children's faces turned toward them, hollow eyes staring into nothing, their lives already broken.
A collective sense of horror filled the group as they realized they were seeing the memories of someone among them. This was no mere mistake or past wrongdoing. This was intentional evil—actions taken without conscience or remorse, engineered to create suffering. The memory flashed forward, revealing the familiar face of Haze, who had orchestrated everything. The destruction of Rika Zero, the betrayals to the Void Walkers, the alliances with the Fatek—all of it led back to her.
As the final images faded, the group stared at Haze in stunned silence, each of them piecing together the realization that she was not only their betrayer but a force of destruction responsible for so much of their suffering. Haze stood in the center, her lips curling into a grin, unrepentant, her eyes glinting with malice. She threw her head back and laughed, a sound so wild and discordant it clawed at their minds.
"Now you know," she hissed, her laughter subsiding into a twisted smirk. "Surprised? I've been pulling your strings this entire time! Haze… Noel… Dawning Blood. Does it matter? Let's get serious now, shall we?" She raised her hands to her face, covering it before spreading her arms wide, her grin widening as she stared them down. "Who's dying first?"
From the throne, a deep, furious voice cut through the air—not Loki's, but that of two figures who appeared beside him, faces twisted with rage. One of them stepped forward, his fists clenched tightly, his knuckles white.
"Enough of this," Axel growled, his voice low and trembling with barely restrained fury. His gaze locked onto Haze with a deadly intensity, his body poised, every muscle tensed like a coiled spring. He spoke, his voice a growl, "You… I'm going to kill you, you bloody murderer."
The room shuddered with the weight of his threat, the cold walls seeming to press in around them as the final, fatal standoff began.