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Convergence iv
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2024-10-29 19:42:56~ Sven turned up at the site at nightfall the following day. Not only was the change a temporary one, but the werewolves he now created, the dark hearts, could not take human form. This made traveling by day impossible. Changed, he moved with them, sticking to the woods and shadows of the cities, making their way to Hedgewood. From where he was at the prison, he had to travel halfway across the country, using magic to make the trip shorter.
When he got to the site, Barabbas was waiting for him with clothes folded in his hands. His lieutenant was not sure what to make of Sven's company. Neither did he know what to say about his boss. He looked at the three for some time before he said—
"I… wasn't aware we had more men."
Sven changed into his human form. While taking his pants and putting them on, he answered,
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Enter the Shadows To Hell and Back ix
~Martha moved to run to Nico as a shadow took possession of his body. Four steps in his direction, she stopped. Nico faced her direction, his eyes twin pools of swirling mist. The thing inside of him had his lips turn up in a smirk. With hot tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks, Martha clutched her fingers into tight fists. The words came from the pits of her stomach. The ground under her feet undulated, rippling with energy as she spoke them. Nico charged in her direction, his face twisted in rage. Martha held up her hand, palm open, continuing the chant, repeating it with fervor and a new understanding. Death fueled shadow magic. Hate. Anger. All the dark things that sullied the world. The spell was the most powerful she had ever attempted since Ava infused the revenant soul with hers. She had to release control to it. Allow the magic to ru
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~Martha couldn’t breathe, her anxiety tightening her chest. Through her link with Nico, she could feel his growing distress. It urged her to move faster as she sprinted through the hidden tunnels leading down into the subway. Back at Anax Corp, Vescovi was assembling a team, a process that was taking longer than was comfortable with her. Nico and the others needed immediate help. Communications, already spotty, had gone dead. Not a single response, only the constant frying of static. Unable to stand around doing nothing while the man she loved probably laid gutted and dying, Martha snuck off when no one was looking. None of the others knew what she was planning to do. If they did, they would have tried to stop her. She was the passive one. The one who chose not to fight. For a werewolf, her reliance on that part of herself never went past her prim
