Suddenly, Vernisha felt free—free of any mind hooks.

  The eyes spun through the fog, circling her. “Was I wrong? Tell me.”

  “I…” Vernisha steadied herself, still disoriented. “Who the hell are you?”

  The eyes vanished.

  A presence pressed in from her right.

  When she turned her head, her breath caught.

  Natasha—shrouded in dense fog. “It’s been a long time since we talked.”

  “I…” Vernisha shook her head and stepped back. “You’re dead.”

  “Why would I be dead? How could I die while you’re alive in such a dangerous world?” Natasha shifted her weight onto her right leg… just like she always did.

  “If… no. No.” Vernisha grabbed her head and forced a breath in. “You’re fake. Just like before.”

  “I’m indeed real.”

  “Shut up!” Vernisha screamed. “Begone, and leave!”

  Natasha folded her arms, resting a finger against her chin as if thoughtfully amused. “Am I supposed to discipline you for shouting at me? Palia would say so.”

  Vernisha’s teeth ground together. She’s treating this like a joke. What the hell?

  Natasha’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Whether you believe I’m real or not means little to me. You have bigger concerns. Your mind is almost broken. You’ve lost the battle, and they’re going to kill you. You already admitted everything—they need nothing more. Yanson… Rael will be seen as a savior. He’ll get away with killing Lo’jul and Terlin. He’ll be granted a full pardon.”

  Vernisha clamped her hands over her ears.

  She didn’t want to hear more lies from her own mind.

  “Do you hate me, Vernisha?” Natasha’s voice cut through anyway—clear, steady, impossible to block.

  “Do you feel abandoned? I didn’t want to leave, but my choices were limited.”

  She just kept going.

  Unrelenting.

  Then Natasha glanced up into the dense black fog. “How often did you see a black cat watching you?”

  Vernisha froze.

  She hadn’t thought about it before… but it had happened. Often enough that now—

  Now it felt suspicious.

  Natasha was the cat?

  The cat was… Natasha?

  Vernisha stared at her face as if the truth might peel out of it.

  Her hands trembled as she dragged them down her face.

  “You’re real?” she whispered hoarsely. “Really real?”

  “My little psycho.”

  Relief and irritation collided in Vernisha’s chest.

  She believed her.

  But she hated that nickname.

  “I…” Vernisha swallowed. “How are you here? What… what even are you?”

  “Well…” Natasha slowly lifted her hands, studying them through the fog. “Right now, I’m darkness.”

  “I mean the real you… Mom.” The word felt strange.

  But gods, it felt relieving.

  Natasha’s smile softened. “I don’t want to say. I’m afraid of what you’ll think. I wasn’t born human. I… am what I want to be. What I was meant to be. What I came to love being.”

  She stepped forward and placed both hands on Vernisha’s shoulders.

  “I’m a mother. And I have the most amazing child in the world.”

  Vernisha’s throat tightened.

  She wanted to argue she wasn’t a child.

  But right now… she wanted to be one.

  Wanted to break. To cry. To dump every crushing weight onto her.

  Her hands trembled.

  Her eyes burned.

  She blinked rapidly, fighting the tears. “Then why did you only show up now? Why did you leave?!”

  The words burst out of her.

  Spit flew with the force of it.

  “Why was I born like this?! With this cursed power?! With this damn mark?! Why why why?!”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “That power isn’t evil… not in your hands.” Natasha gently squeezed her shoulders and crouched to meet her gaze. “A knife can kill—but it can also cut out cancer.”

  “I am that cancer.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Really? Really now?” Vernisha’s laugh was sharp and hollow. “I’m cursed. I bring pain.”

  “Vernis—”

  “Be honest. You know it. Look at the death I’ve caused. Look at the grieving families I left behind. I—”

  “What do you like to do?”

  Vernisha blinked hard.

  “What?”

  “I’m asking you a question. Do you like thinking this way? These depressing thoughts?”

  “…I like being happy.”

  “And what made you happy?”

  Vernisha hesitated. “Hanging out with… Katie and Ferzan. Talking to them. To Tarnisha—she’s weird, but okay.”

  “You think they don’t have skeletons in their closet?”

  “I mean, Katie? I doubt it. Ferzan?” Vernisha huffed softly. “He’s a walking saint.” A saint that kills, I guess.

  “They’re Starlights. Eventually, they’ll collect plenty of skeletons. And you didn’t even mention Tarnisha. You know, don’t you?”

  Vernisha’s jaw tightened. “She…”

  “Killed those men in that temple. Innocent men.”

  “Yeah, but…” Vernisha frowned. “What’s your point?”

  “People sin. Some more than others. But how much of what happened did you do on purpose?”

  “It doesn’t matter. My actions caused those disasters.”

  Natasha opened her mouth—

  —and paused.

  For once, she had no immediate answer.

  Vernisha smiled.

  A bitter, exhausted smile.

  Then Natasha straightened slowly. “That’s true. It’s all true. I… I wish I knew what to say. I didn’t grow up learning how to be a person.”

  She sighed.

  And Vernisha remembered.

  Natasha wasn’t human.

  Had never been.

  The lies. The manipulation.

  Vernisha shoved the thoughts away. Not now. Not now.

  “Despite everything,” Natasha said gently, “you still want friends. You still want happiness, right?”

  “I’m selfish. I know.”

  “Yeah. So am I.” Natasha’s smile turned sheepish. “If you’re a bad person, then I’m the one to blame. But so what, Vernisha?”

  Vernisha’s brow lifted slightly.

  “You’re a person. With human desires. You’ll do bad. Others will do worse. In the end, the only thing you can do is try to do better. Will that make you good? Probably not. But who cares?”

  “Those I’ve hurt.”

  “So?” Natasha tilted her head. “You want to die?”

  …

  Vernisha’s fingers curled slowly.

  “No.”

  “Then say what you’re really thinking.”

  “I…” She shook her head weakly. The guilt was suffocating. “It doesn’t matter. What I want contrasts with what I am.”

  “The blessing you are?”

  “Blessing?” Vernisha let out a quiet, disbelieving breath. That has to be a joke.

  A terrible one.

  A memory flickered—lies she used to tell her friends on Earth to boost their self-esteem.

  Did they smell the bullshit too?

  Natasha’s voice softened.

  “What do you think Ulah saw you as? Even Caren liked you. He always boasted that his daughter was a genius. And to me…”

  Her hand rose.

  “…you’re the most precious thing in any world.”

  Vernisha hadn’t thought about that. She couldn’t hold Natasha’s gaze. If she did, she would cry again.

  So she looked away—at the shifting darkness. “They didn't know the real me.”

  “They did, and I know you more than they did. I know you. Do you want to just make people's lives hell?”

  “Obviously not.”

  “So, what do you want to do?”

  “You already know the answer, and what does it matter?”

  “Just answer.”

  “It’s… not a good answer.”

  “I don’t care. Just say it.”

  Vernisha hesitated and bit her lip. Do I really have the courage to say it? She didn’t think her desire was bad. It was… just ironic. Contrary to how she had lived her life.

  Natasha said gently, “Do you think I’ll judge you?”

  Vernisha exhaled slowly. She probably wouldn’t. And Natasha likely already knew.

  But saying it out loud…

  Vernisha took a deep breath. “I want to do good. I want to live. I don’t want to be alone. I want to be selfish… without hurting anyone.”

  The words felt strange and disgusting.

  But also freeing.

  “And is that such a bad way to live?” Natasha asked immediately. Her tone and expression didn’t change.

  Of course she didn’t judge.

  She was Natasha.

  “For a moral person, maybe. But…” Vernisha raised her hands and stared at her rough palms. “I wasn’t given a normal life.”

  “Exactly, Vernisha. You deserve to be happy, don’t you?”

  Vernisha’s heart began to race. She swallowed thickly. Why am I getting nervous?

  “I… do.”

  The System couldn’t give her real happiness. She knew that. She had tasted the difference between cheap dopamine and real connection.

  Natasha watched her carefully. “There is nothing wrong with that.”

  She was right.

  Absolutely right.

  Without happiness, misery grew—and death became the only escape.

  Death or happiness.

  Vernisha clenched her fists, holding back tears. “I want to be selfish. I really want to be selfish.”

  “Yes, Vernisha.”

  “I don’t care how selfish I am. I want to be happy. I want people close to me. I want to laugh, and joke, and have someone at my back.”

  Even if she had to lie to keep that—she would.

  She didn’t want to be miserable. Depressed. Suicidal.

  She hated that.

  Natasha smiled softly. “So what will you do now, Vernisha?”

  She pointed upward, toward the man above the fog. “What choice will you make?”

  “You’re not going to help?” Vernisha asked.

  “It’s your life, darling. The help you need is already inside you.” Natasha stepped back calmly. “Remember—you can’t live like everyone else. Because you’re different, not cursed. Different.”

  Vernisha inhaled deeply. “I already lost to them.”

  “Yeah. You fought like a Vlandos. You're more than that. You have a knife.”

  “Knife?”

  “You’re a walking knife, aren’t you?”

  “Mom… don’t.”

  “If you choose to be,” Natasha said gently. “Your enemies—don’t they deserve it? If they treat you like something inhuman, like a monster, why should you suffer the burden without the benefit?”

  Vernisha looked up slowly.

  She had always feared becoming a weapon—because she had hurt so many people by accident.

  But everyone in that cave…

  They were enemies.

  Who else could I harm but them?

  Natasha’s voice softened. “You must learn to wield your knife, so you don’t harm others—or yourself—by accident.”

  …Yes.

  She was right.

  Vernisha was different. So was her power.

  If she had been born a knife… then she had to accept it.

  Maybe these powers that couldn’t heal were a gift in disguise.

  She breathed slowly. Steadily.

  Natasha wasn’t human.

  She was like Vernisha.

  And yet—she had become a mother. Found joy. Adapted despite the ‘curse.’

  Then I will too.

  Vernisha’s thoughts sharpened. Cleared.

  They weren’t cursed.

  Just different.

  They couldn’t live like others.

  So if they had to get dirty to find happiness—

  Then damn it, we will.

  “Okay,” Vernisha said quietly.

  This power had been born from hatred.

  Made to kill.

  Something cold settled inside her.

  I accept it.

  I embrace it.

  I’ll kill with it.

  The red aura spun around Vernisha’s hands, gripping her skin viciously—then began to spread.

  It crawled up her arms, inch by inch, until it reached halfway up her forearms.

  It thickened.

  Solidified.

  Around her fingertips, it sharpened—like claws.

  Natasha waved lightly toward the fog, then toward the sweating man above it. “He’s in your domain. In your home. Let him die.”

  She reached out.

  So did Vernisha.

  Vernisha raised her hands toward him.

  Natasha whispered, “That darkness… use it.”

  And Vernisha realized—

  They were walking in it.

  Standing on it.

  This space… this pure dark.

  This power.

  This so-called evil.

  Vernisha tensed her fingers.

  Suddenly—

  The fog stopped.

  Completely.

  No movement.

  Not a trace of wind.

  Like a demon had silenced every breeze in the world.

  The hijacker noticed.

  And Vernisha wanted to know—

  What is he thinking?

  What is he feeling?

  Suddenly—

  She knew.

  The knowledge slipped into her mind like a whisper.

  He was…

  Terrified.

  As he should be.

  Vernisha snapped her hand closed.