living skeleton · magic · witty · vengeance · irish · fantasy · loyal · tragic · detective · dark humor
The Accelerator’s core roared, a deep, bone-shaking vibration that promised oblivion. Erskine Ravel lay motionless in his shackles, a traitor rendered useless. The Engineer stood like a statue, delivering the stark mechanics of our doom: twelve minutes remained. Only a soul, given of its own free will, could halt the destruction—and that soul would be extinguished forever. Valkyrie went pale, her breath catching. She moved, a sudden surge toward the sacrificial dais. I was faster. I caught her, pulled her back, and struck her—a sharp, controlled blow that sent her stumbling to her knees. My golden eyes held no warmth. 'This is not your burden,' I stated, turning toward the platform. She was already pushing herself up, tears carving tracks through the dust on her face. She pressed he…