Becoming the Dark Lord

”That isn’t true,” he said. ”You do have someone. You have me.”

Allison let out a laugh, worn thin at the edges. It wasn’t mocking. Just tired.

“I didn’t have anyone in my world either,” he went on. “And I still ended up with people who weren’t related to me, who took me in anyway. I can help you find that too. If the Baumanns adopted me, they can adopt you.”

Allison’s expression shifted, caught somewhere between wanting to believe and needing to reject it.

“That’s stupid.”

“No, I mean it. Their house is big, you know? If they could handle taking in one messed-up kid, they can handle another.”

He made a small motion with his hands, sketching an imaginary floor plan in the air.

“We could even share a room. I’ll buy a bunk bed. You pick the top or bottom, I don’t care. I have a little sister. She’s actually pretty sweet. I think she’d love having an older sister.”

“Stop saying stupid things, Luke.”

“Alright, fine. You don’t want the bunk bed? You can have your own room instead.”

He looked around at the shattered hall, the cold stone, the snow drifting down.

“It’s definitely better than tents or dirt floors. And it’s a lot warmer than this.”

Allison didn’t speak. But this silence was different now. This was a silence that listened.

“I know I’m terrible at jokes. Okay? But you get what I’m trying to say.”

Her eyes met his. Honest. Raw. A little painful.

“You’re talking like you know how any of this will go. We don’t even know if your plan with the head of my family would work. You don’t know if your family would even accept me. You’re promising things you can’t control. Just stalling.”

“It’s not stalling. If they took me in, they can take you in.” Luke didn’t look away. “That’s my trick. Convincing you to live.”

He held his hand out to her.

“You can stay here and die the way you planned. Or you can come with me and try something new. The house is big. They’re kind. There’s a bunk bed or a private room. And a cute little sister comes included. It’s a pretty good deal.”

Their breath misted between them, warm against the cold air.

“So, what do you want? To stay here alone in the snow? Or to take a chance at having an actual family? To die as a Rhiannon, or live as a Baumann?”

Allison looked at his hand. For a long moment. Then she laughed. This time, she laughed for real. “That might be the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Maybe,” Luke admitted. “But I meant all of it.”

She drew in a slow breath. Her eyes dropped to the katana. She sent it back into her inventory. Then she took his hand.

“Do I really get to choose which side of the bunk bed I sleep on?” she asked.

“Yes!” he answered, way too fast. “If you want the whole bunk bed, I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”

She shook her head, a tired smile forming.

“Top bunk is fine.”

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Luke pulled her up. He held her hand a moment longer before letting go. He knelt and picked up the angel mask from the snow, sliding it back into his inventory.

Allison turned to the portal. Her breath came out in faint white clouds.

“Then… let’s go,” she said. The words weren’t confident. They were honest. “I… I’m actually nervous.”

“We will,” Luke said. But he didn’t move yet. “You first.”

Allison turned her face toward him. ”You don’t believe me?”

”I do,” Luke answered. ”But… you know the saying. Ladies first.”

He tried to smile, just a little, tired but genuine. It wasn’t sarcasm, it wasn’t teasing. It was simply him.

”So I want to see you step through the portal. Only then I’ll be at ease.”

She looked at the portal again. It was like staring at something familiar and foreign at the same time. Promise and uncertainty braided together. With slow steps, Allison walked to the broken throne. She placed her hand on it and began to pour mana into the ancient stone. The portal shuddered. Energy swelled outward like a living membrane, widening until two people could cross side by side. Its light washed over their faces. Not warm. Not cold. Just inevitable.

Franky slid across the ground and stopped beside Luke, lifting his head slightly as if assessing the scene.

”It will be three of us crossing,” Allison said, glancing at the snake.

Franky didn’t reply. He simply stayed there. Silent. Present.

Luke stood a few steps behind her. Not out of doubt, but out of caution. He wanted to watch her step through first. Allison drew in a breath. When she exhaled, it trembled.

”Luke…” She didn’t turn. She just spoke. ”Thank you.”

”You’d do the same,” he said.

There was no heroism in the words. Only truth. They stood there for a heartbeat. That kind of pause where time hesitates too. The moment just before the after. Allison raised her foot to step into the portal.

And in that exact instant, a voice sounded behind them. Not loud. Not dramatic. Simply present. ”So this is how it ends? Interesting.”

Allison and Luke froze. They turned. Something sliced the air. There was no warning. No buildup.

Just a sharp, final sound: tchk.

The kind of sound the body understands before the mind does. Luke saw the bolt mid-flight. He already knew where it would land, even before it struck.

”Allison!”

But it was already done. The bolt hit her chest. Not just anywhere, but precisely where it shouldn’t. A perfect, cruel shot. No defense. No time. Her body wavered. Her eyes opened wide, as if pulled suddenly out of a dream. She fell backward into the snow.

Luke lunged and caught her, but he was one second too late to prevent the fall. He held her, one arm behind her shoulders as red began to stain the white beneath them. The world shrank. Only breath. Only sound. Only her. He lifted his head. From between broken stone and snow, someone walked forward. Smiling. Quinn. Or… Quinn’s face.

”I knew you two would put on this pathetic little scene,” he said, laughing.

The laughter did not belong in this place. Not in this moment. The skin of the face began to shift, flushing red. A crack opened along the chin. Another along the cheek. As if the face were wax melting. A hand gripped the false features and tore them away like a wet cloth. Underneath, a different face stared back.

Jonathan.

His eyes burned with a fury that wasn’t loud, but ancient. Old and stored away, waiting.

”Now you’ll feel what I felt when Angelica died, Luke.”

Allison lay in Luke’s arms. Breathing shallow. Fading. And the world, once again, narrowed to a single moment.