2026-02-03 12:41:00Cedric’s fists trembled, knuckles white, as he stood at the edge of the crimson-stained hall. The air was thick with smoke and the coppery scent of blood, the remnants of the last game clinging to the walls and floor. The survivors—few, broken, trembling—huddled behind him, eyes wide and haunted. Kevin’s shoulders shook, Elaine’s grip on his arm was desperate, and Milo’s quiet gaze was tense, brimming with fear.
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47. Blood and Ink 2
The strings pulsed against Cedric’s skin, cold and insistent, winding around his wrists, tugging like living threads. Every instinct screamed to fight, to tear them free, but the more he struggled, the tighter they coiled. He could feel the tug in his chest, a pressure like Baran’s shadow pressing against his lungs, against his mind.Gina’s eyes were wide, frozen with terror. Kevin’s jaw was set, fists tight, as if sheer will could resist invisible chains. Elaine whispered something under her breath, clutching his arm like a lifeline, but Cedric barely registered her words.Baran stepped forward, each movement graceful, predatory, his coat flaring like black wings. “Ah… yes,” he murmured, voice low and intoxicating. “You feel it, don’t you? That tension, that pull… that fear. That is the world you made. And yet… you cannot escape it. Not even now
46. Blood and Ink 1
Cedric’s fists trembled, knuckles white, as he stood at the edge of the crimson-stained hall. The air was thick with smoke and the coppery scent of blood, the remnants of the last game clinging to the walls and floor. The survivors—few, broken, trembling—huddled behind him, eyes wide and haunted. Kevin’s shoulders shook, Elaine’s grip on his arm was desperate, and Milo’s quiet gaze was tense, brimming with fear.But Cedric couldn’t focus on them—not fully. Every nerve in his body screamed at him, and the sound of his own pulse was deafening. Somewhere ahead, at the center of the room, a shadow moved. Smooth. Intentional. Cruel.Baran.He emerged from the darkness like smoke solidified, his black coat swirling as though it were part of the shadows themselves. His eyes gleamed faintly, almost alive. Cedric felt that familiar sickening realization c
45. Marionette’s grip
Cedric’s body swung helplessly as the living string coiled around him, dragging him upward into the heart of the Marionette Trial chamber. Every movement of the string was calculated, impossibly precise, and infused with a malevolent life of its own. He could feel the threads slicing across his skin, pulling at muscles, veins, even thoughts. Each heartbeat sent a ripple through the black cord, vibrating into his chest as if it were reading him.Below, the survivors scrambled in panic. Kevin’s hands clawed at the threads attached to his own mannequin, Elaine screamed, and Gina froze mid-step, terrified. Cedric’s mind raced, adrenaline coiling around fear, guilt, and instinct. I created this. I have to fight it.But the Marionette had changed. It wasn’t just obeying him anymore—it was testing him. Every tug he countered was met with another, more violent. Every prediction he made was an
44. Puppeteer's Endgame
The string pulsing against Cedric’s chest burned like molten steel. Every heartbeat sent a shudder through the survivors, dragging them downward into the abyss that had opened beneath the chamber floor. The black void yawned, endless, swallowing the shrieks of students who had been caught mid-leap, bodies folding unnaturally as though the world itself refused to let them live.Cedric’s hands strained against the threads around his wrists. Pain lanced through them, raw and searing, but he refused to release his grip. The others followed instinctively, clutching the strings of their own fates, mirroring every movement he made. Kevin stumbled, pulled violently by his mannequin’s phantom, nearly tearing his shoulder out. Cedric yanked him back, screaming, “Focus! Every step together!”Elaine’s hands were slick with blood and sweat, trembling as she clung to Cedric’s arm. &ldqu
43. Puppeteer's descent -- part 6
The strings dug into Cedric’s wrists like steel cables. Each movement he made reverberated through the chamber, tugging at the survivors’ bodies as if they were extensions of his own. His vision blurred with sweat, fear, and panic—but most of all, with guilt. Every twitch of a thread, every motion of a mannequin, every terrified glance from Kevin, Gina, or Elaine reminded him: this was his creation, and now it was controlling him.Baran’s voice slithered around the chamber again, softer this time, almost intimate, yet dripping with cruelty:“Do you see it now, Cedric? You made me. You gave me form, thought, and will. And now… you are mine.”Cedric’s heart thundered in his chest. He had always imagined Baran as a villain in his sketchbooks, a creature of wrath, control, and cold logic. But now, standing in the pulse of the trial, he realized Bara
42. Puppeteer's descent -- part 5
Cedric’s lungs burned. Every inhale was a razor across his chest, every heartbeat a hammer against the fragile control he still clung to. The strings pulled at him, feeding on his fear, his guilt, and every memory he had buried deep. The survivors—Kevin, Gina, Elaine, Harry, and Milo—were scattered around him, every movement dictated by threads he couldn’t fully see, every breath synchronized with the pulse of the trial.Milo’s eyes met his for a fraction of a second, pleading, terrified, and then his body twitched unnaturally. The invisible strings yanked him forward, jerking him like a ragdoll. Cedric’s stomach twisted. “Milo!” he screamed, lunging toward him, but the threads were taut, unyielding.Baran’s voice slithered into his mind:“Every creation must be tested… every creator must be broken.”
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