Oritochi Clan

Chapter 7: Selene Noir's Redemption

The portal shimmered like an open wound, in reality, its edges crackling with unstable energy. Surge and Artemis sprinted through the chaotic, shifting expanse of light and shadow, the rift's gravity pulling at their existence.

"This thing better hold," Surge muttered, his voice strained as he adjusted the relic tucked inside his jacket.

Artemis glared at him, their golden armor dented and smeared with ash. "Maybe you should stop tampering with reality, and we wouldn't need to run through your broken shortcuts!"

Before Surge could retort, the portal ahead rippled violently, and a figure emerged from the swirling chaos. She stepped out with uncanny grace, her form illuminated by the eerie glow of the fractured dimensions around her.

"Selene?" Surge blurted, nearly stumbling to a stop. His eyes narrowed in disbelief, then widened with theatrical panic. "Crap, are you about to tell me you're pregnant? Because I'm not great with diapers—"

"Shut up, Surge," Selene Noir snapped, her voice sharp but trembling, her usually confident demeanor replaced with something far more fragile. Her crimson eyes, which always carried an alluring, dangerous glint, now seemed haunted.

Surge stopped dead, his grin fading as he scrutinized her. She was different. The ever-composed manipulator he knew was gone, replaced by someone who looked as though she'd crawled out of hell itself. Her dark, sleek combat suit was scorched in places, and her hands trembled at her sides.

Artemis moved instinctively, drawing their blade and stepping in front of Surge. "What are you doing here?" they demanded, their voice laced with suspicion.

Selene raised her hands slowly, her crimson nails catching the faint light. "I'm not here to fight. I need to talk. To both of you."

"You need to talk?" Surge echoed, his voice tinged with mockery as he crossed his arms. "That's rich, coming from someone who usually lets her knife do the talking."

Selene's jaw tightened. "Surge, I've seen what you're doing. I've seen the damage. And it's worse than even you realize."

Surge laughed, though it was more out of irritation than humor. "Damage? Please. Reality's just a big sandbox; I'm the kid flipping it upside down. What's the worst that could happen?"

Selene stepped closer, ignoring Artemis' blade hovering near her throat. "The worst? I'll show you."

She raised her hand, and a shimmering orb of energy formed in her palm. Within it, images began to materialize—fractured timelines, screaming faces, people trapped in infinite loops of torment. Families being ripped apart, entire cities vanishing as though they had never existed. And in the center of it all was Surge, his grin unchanging as he walked through the wreckage, oblivious to the lives destroyed in his wake.

Artemis recoiled, their face twisting in horror. "Is this real?"

"It's what happens when he toys with fate," Selene said, her voice breaking. "Every time he shifts a thread, it snaps somewhere else. These people—they're not just gone. They're unmade. Their memories, their connections, even their souls—erased."

Surge stared at the images, his cocky demeanor cracking. A flicker of guilt crossed his face momentarily, but it was gone just as quickly.

"So what?" he said, though his voice lacked its usual bravado. "It's not like I'm forcing anyone to stick around. People leave. That's life."

Selene's eyes burned with fury. "You don't get it, do you? You're not just breaking lives—you're breaking existence. Every fracture weakens reality itself. If you keep this up, there won't be a timeline left to manipulate."