CHAPTER 10 - THE RETURN OF THE CRIMSON COUNTESS

The sky above the calm forest of universe 14 slowly streaks with dark red veins, as if space itself were bleeding. The breeze stops; the birds flee. Seated on her floating throne in the manor's dark hall, Saphira raises her head, her calm gaze sharpening. "She's approaching." Around her, the servant dolls interrupt their silent ballet. The butlers from the abyss freeze as one. Even the twins, seated near Saphira with a cosmic teapot in their hands, shiver. "Mother," says the sister who manipulates time softly, "this isn't a simple visit, is it?" Saphira smiles. "She's an old friend. Don't let her appearance deceive you." A sinister vibration shakes the manor's foundations. The dimensional grids crack slightly, and a colossal carriage emerges from a crimson and black magic circle. Pulled by four six-eyed horses made of shadows and red muscles, it advances slowly, as if the ground were twisting under their hooves. An aura of majestic horror spreads around the equipage. Around the carriage, there are deformed knights, clad in black armor adorned with jagged runes. No faces, just helmets devoured by divine jaws. "Your Majesty," a doll murmurs, its cracked mask trembling, "should we strike her down?" "No," replies Saphira, rising with grace. "I told you." She descends the steps, followed by the twins. "She's a guest. You don't recognize her? Hahaha. Let me introduce you." The carriage door opens. A slender leg touches the ground, followed by a figure of demented elegance. The Crimson Countess appears in a blood-red halo. Her dress is made of living fabric, sewn from nightmares. Her eyes gleam with a golden light, her smile wide, predatory, magnificent. She extends her arms. "Saphira, my dear little blue thing, you haven't changed." Saphira, in her adult gothic form, approaches, smiling. "And you, Crimson Countess, you are always so dramatic." The countess's gaze slides over the tense dolls, the wary twins, the manor walls. She inclines her head. "You've built a fortress of dark dreams, just as I predicted." The twins bow gently. "We didn't know her," says the brother, guardian of the Book of Fate, "but her aura is ancient." "She's more than that," Saphira whispers. "She's the Goddess of Monsters and one of my allies at least, for today." A lounge is prepared. The tea steams in cups forged from the souls of fallen stars. The Countess crosses her legs on a golden bone armchair. The doll servants still tremble slightly. One of them involuntarily bares its fangs, which amuses the countess. "Your children are fierce, charming. Do you train them or inspire them?" "I simply love them, and they serve me because they love me. It's not the same thing, Countess." The two goddesses exchange a knowing look, a complicity born of millennia of horror and bursts of laughter. "And your son?" The Countess asks, taking a sip of the black tea. "Nékridhal is asleep, but he feels your presence. He'll dream of you tonight." "I hope it won't be a nightmare." "With you, it's always a nightmare, but sometimes, I like that." As The Countess rises, her monster knights await her without a word. The carriage doors open with a sinister murmur, but before she leaves, she leans towards Saphira. "You're going to need me soon, little lightning bolt. The paradoxes are moving in the shadows, and I have a role to play in their downfall." "You'll be invited, but be careful. My dolls don't like intruders, not even beautiful ones like you." The Countess laughs softly, her fangs gleaming in the shadow, and she disappears into her carriage, leaving behind a trail of red petals and the scent of monstrous eternity.

END OF CHAPTER 10 - THE RETURN OF THE CRIMSON COUNTESS