JAYNAYAH

The snap of Michael’s neck echoed in the silence like a gavel coming down on a life sentence.

Then, everything just… stopped.

The violet haze that had painted my vision crowded out, leaving the dim, dusty reality of the room. The ancestral voices, those screaming witches and weeping omegas who had fueled my ascension, didn’t fade away—they simply vanished. It was as if a vacuum had been switched on inside my skull, sucking out the noise and the power in one violent rush.

My knees buckled. It wasn't a slow descent; it was a collapse. My body, no longer sustained by the rage of the dead, remembered it was...