"Stop talking to yourself, Silas. It's starting to get pathetic."
Vivian’s voice sliced through the room like a razor. She was still pinned against the wall by the shimmering mana threads, her breathing heavy, her eyes narrowed. She wasn't looking at Silas—not really. She was staring right at the mirror, right where Ella was currently screaming into the void.
*You smug, arrogant piece of trash!* Ella shrieked inside Silas’s head. *You saw me die! You watched it happen and you didn't do a damn thing! Answer me!*
Silas didn't blink. He just continued adjusting his silver cufflinks, his expression as cold as a winter grave. But Ella could feel it—the tremor in his mana. A tiny, microscopic crack in his composure.
"I have no idea what you're referring to," Silas said, his voice a smooth, dangerous purr. He finally turned toward Vivian, his boots clicking on the marble floor. He stepped into her personal space, so close she could probably smell the expensive sandalwood and the faint, metallic scent of blood lingering on his skin.
"Liar," Vivian spat. She tried to jerk her arm, but the mana threads tightened, biting into her skin. "You’re glitching. Your magic is leaking. And there’s something—someone—inside you that doesn't belong. I can feel the resonance. It’s not just a parasite. It’s a soul."
*Tell her!* Ella yelled, trying to shove Silas’s consciousness aside. *Tell her I’m here and I’m going to rip your empire down from the inside out!*
Silas let out a sharp, dry chuckle. He leaned in, his face inches from Vivian’s. His gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto her eyes. The air between them turned electric, thick with a tension that wasn't just about killing.
"A soul?" Silas whispered. "Maybe I'm just haunted by the ghosts of everyone I've stepped on to get here. Does that bother you, Vivian? Or does it make you want me more?"
"I want you dead," she hissed, though her pulse was hammering against the skin of her neck.
*Gross. Get a room,* Ella groaned, but then she felt it. A surge of power. A glitch in the system. *Wait... if she can feel me, maybe I can use her as a conductor?*
Ella didn't wait. She lunged. Not physically—she couldn't—but she threw her entire consciousness against the barrier separating her from the physical world. She reached for the mana threads Silas was using to bind Vivian.
[System Alert: Parasitic Synchronization attempting to bypass Host control.] [Warning: Mana overload imminent. Synchronization rate: 12%... 15%...]
Suddenly, Silas’s arm jerked. He didn't mean to do it. His hand flew up and gripped Vivian’s chin, tilting her head back with a force that was almost violent.
"What the hell—" Silas gasped, his own voice sounding surprised.
*I've got a grip!* Ella cheered. She pushed harder, pouring every ounce of her stolen energy into the connection.
But the resonance was too much. It was like plugging a toaster into a lightning bolt. A blinding white flash erupted where their skin met. A shockwave of raw, unfiltered mana blasted outward, shattering the mirror behind them into a thousand jagged diamonds.
Vivian screamed as the threads snapped, throwing her backward across the room. Silas recoiled, clutching his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
[Critical Error: Synchronization spike exceeded safety threshold.] [Penalty: Host and Parasite experiencing Neural Feedback.]
It felt like a hot needle being driven through both of their brains. Ella felt her vision blur, the edges of her world fraying. Silas collapsed to one knee, his forehead hitting the marble with a dull thud.
"Damn it..." Silas wheezed, his voice strained. "You... stupid... girl."
*I'm the one who's stupid?* Ella retorted, though it sounded more like a whimper. *You're the one who let a 'parasite' give you a brain hemorrhage!*
Vivian scrambled to her feet, coughing. She didn't run for the door. Instead, she lunged forward, her hidden blade sliding from her sleeve with a metallic *shink*. She pinned Silas against the remnants of the broken mirror, the blade pressed firmly against the soft skin just above his waist, right where his armor had a gap.
"I don't know who she is," Vivian whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of adrenaline and confusion. Her chest was heaving, her body pressed flush against Silas's. The heat radiating between them was suffocating. "But I can hear her. I can feel her screaming inside you. Who is she, Silas?"
Silas looked up at her, a smirk playing on his pale lips despite the blood trickling from his nose. He didn't even try to fight the blade. He just looked into her eyes, his gaze heavy and dark.
"She's my favorite nightmare," Silas murmured.
*Hey!* Ella yelled. *I'm not a nightmare, I'm a top-tier hunter! Now tell her to get that knife away before I find a way to make you sneeze and accidentally stab yourself!*
Vivian pressed the blade deeper, a thin line of red appearing on Silas's shirt. "Answer me. Or I start carving the parasite out of you piece by piece."
Silas’s hand moved—slowly, deliberately. He didn't reach for the knife. He reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair away from Vivian’s forehead. His fingers were cold, but the gesture was almost tender, which made it a thousand times more terrifying.
"You're shaking, Vivian," he noted, his voice dropping to a low, intimate vibration. "Is it because you're afraid? Or because you've never been this close to a monster before?"
*Stop flirting with the assassin!* Ella screamed. *We are literally in the middle of a life-or-death crisis!*
Vivian froze. She could feel it. Not Silas's voice, but a secondary frequency. A vibration in the air that felt like a woman's voice, desperate and angry, echoing right in her ear. She shifted her grip, the knife sliding up toward his ribs.
"I know you're in there," Vivian whispered, not to Silas, but to the air around him. "I know you can hear me."
Silas's eyes widened. He hadn't expected her to respond directly to Ella. For the first time, the mask of the Tyrant slipped, and Ella saw a flash of genuine panic in his pupils.
"Vivian, don't—" Silas started.
But Vivian wasn't listening. She leaned in closer, her lips almost touching his ear, her voice a lethal promise.
"Tell me your name, little ghost," Vivian murmured, "or I'll make sure neither of you ever wakes up."
At that moment, the heavy oak doors of the chamber groaned. A booming voice echoed through the hallway, followed by the rhythmic stomp of armored boots.
"By order of the High Council! Silas Thorne, you are under arrest for high treason! Open this door or we will burn the castle down with you inside!"
Silas stiffened. The 72-hour countdown had just been shortened to about three seconds.
Vivian didn't move the knife. She looked at the door, then back at Silas, a cruel smile forming.
"Looks like you've got company," she said. "Now... about that name."