Eva’s heart pounded in her chest as the scent of smoke thickened the air. Max’s arm was firm around her waist, his eyes scanning the horizon, his every step steady and purposeful. They had arrived at the vampire stronghold. But what they saw upon entering shattered any hope they had of finding things normal.
Flames licked the sides of crumbling buildings, twisting in the wind like living creatures. The dark sky above was filled with ash, drifting lazily in the turbulent air. It looked like the world itself was dying, as though the entire place was on the verge of collapsing under the weight of something far greater than they had ever imagined.
“Max…” Eva whispered, her voice barely audible against the crackling of the fire. She was shaking, unable to look away from the chaotic destruction surrounding them. She felt the weight of her breath as she spoke again, more urgently this time. “Where is Silas?”
Max’s eyes narrowed, scanning the wreckage. “He’s here. I can feel it. It’s like the whole damn place is charged with his power.”
Eva’s gaze shifted to the center of the stronghold, where a strange glow flickered in the midst of the devastation. Her blood ran cold as her eyes locked onto the figure standing there, suspended above the ground. Silas.
He was glowing, a soft, radiant light that burned so brightly it seemed to push back the darkness around him. His tiny form floated several feet off the ground, his limbs relaxed but graceful in the stillness. His face—so innocent, yet so impossibly ancient in that moment—was illuminated by the light surrounding him, his eyes closed as if in concentration.
Eva’s breath hitched. “Silas…”
The moment she spoke his name, his eyes snapped open. They were no longer the innocent eyes of a child. They were dark—red, in fact—burning with a power far beyond anything they had ever encountered. There was no recognition in them, only something unreadable, something far older, deeper, and darker than the child she had known.
“Mother…” Silas whispered, his voice soft and distant, like it was carried on a wind from another world. His lips barely moved, but the sound of his voice echoed in Eva’s ears like a strange lullaby.
Max stopped beside her, his jaw clenched tight, his body tense. “What’s happening to him, Eva?” His voice was strained, thick with worry. “What’s going on here?”
Before Eva could answer, a figure stumbled into view from the burning wreckage. Vladymyr. He was kneeling, his hands pressed to the ground, his eyes leaking blood as though the power Silas radiated had torn him apart from the inside. His once regal, cold composure had shattered. Now, he was nothing more than a broken man, his strength gone.
Vladymyr’s voice, raw with pain, scraped through the air. “He is not a child,” he hissed, his words barely more than a whisper. “He is the storm.”
Eva’s heart skipped a beat, the weight of his words sinking into her chest like a stone. The storm. She understood now, more than ever, that Silas wasn’t just a boy. He wasn’t even just the key to the prophecy. He was the storm that would either save them or tear everything apart. She had known he was special, but this? This was beyond anything she could have imagined.
“Silas,” she called, her voice breaking as she took a hesitant step forward. “Please… come back to me. We’re here. You don’t have to do this.”
But Silas didn’t respond. His eyes flickered in her direction, but they were distant, cold. “You should not have come,” he said in that same eerie, unrecognizable language. The words spilled from him, foreign syllables twisting the air around them. Eva’s heart clenched. He didn’t recognize her anymore. Not like he once had. He was no longer the son she had carried, the son she had watched grow, laugh, and love.
Max took a step forward, his voice calm but firm. “Silas, listen to us. This isn’t who you are. You’re not alone.”
But the air around them shifted. The very ground trembled beneath their feet, and Eva stumbled slightly, catching herself against Max. The sky above cracked, a sound like thunder splitting the heavens in two. The wind howled, and in that moment, she knew. She knew what was happening.
The prophecy, the one they had heard whispers about for so long, was finally igniting. It was beginning.
The earth beneath their feet began to break open, deep fissures forming like a wound in the world itself. The sky above shifted, the stars vanishing from view as dark clouds twisted together, gathering in an impossible vortex. The world around them seemed to be ripping apart, as though the very fabric of reality was unraveling.
Silas floated higher into the air, his tiny body glowing even brighter, casting long shadows across the ground below him. His eyes—still burning red—flickered between Eva and Vladymyr, the power crackling in the air like electricity.
Max reached out for Eva, his grip tight as he pulled her closer to him, his eyes wide with fear. “Eva, we have to do something! He’s—he’s not our son anymore. Not like this.”
Eva could hardly breathe as she watched her son, feeling as though her heart was breaking into a thousand pieces. The son she had loved, the one who had brought hope, was now something else entirely. And yet, in his eyes—his deep, burning eyes—there was still a flicker of recognition, a flicker of the boy he used to be.
The ground cracked even wider beneath them, and the world seemed to tilt. In that moment, everything froze. The sky above them split open, revealing nothing but darkness. The winds howled, and the twins’ prophecy—one of light, one of darkness—was finally being fulfilled.
Eva’s heart hammered in her chest, the weight of the future crashing down on her. She knew they had reached a tipping point.
The storm was here.
And now, the question was: which twin would rise?
