Black Strings: Threads of Revenge

Mini Chapter 4

Tommy roams the city streets once again. Rain drizzles from above, hissing softly where it hits the cobblestone. Beneath his boots, snow turns to slick ice.

The street lights tower over all who walk on Snowbank City's cobblestone streets, illuminating all that touches their light. With a quiet motion, Tommy lifts a hand and draws a thread of light from one of them, letting it hover in his palm.

Suddenly, he jolts, hearing something teleport behind him. He spins, grabs it on instinct, and swings it into view.

"Show yourself. Now," Tommy says, voice cold and certain.

A shaky exhale escapes the thing in his grasp, then it reveals itself.

It's Trix.

"That was... a fast reaction," Trix mutters, wide-eyed.

Tommy's grip loosens. His eyebrows lift slightly as he releases him. "Why are you here?"

"I want to help you," Trix declares without hesitation. "I can feel your energy. I know you're the Ultimate Spirit. I want to help, and I've got some friends I think you should meet."

Tommy nods his head from side to side a couple times. "Alright, I'll meet them. Bring me to them."

With a flick of his wrist, Trix opens a portal, shimmering faintly in the drizzle.

"Which realm are your friends in?" Tommy asks Trix.

Trix grins. "The Black Realm."

He steps through the portal without hesitation. Tommy follows, his boots landing on cracked stone under a starless sky.

The air shifts—thicker, heavier. The chill of Snowbank is replaced by dry warmth, the scent of metal and soot lingering in the stillness. Black cliffs rise in the distance, carved with glowing symbols.

Two figures wait ahead.

"Nix, Arabella," Trix calls, "I brought someone important."

The first, a tall, slightly broad-shouldered young man, hunches over a crude forge set into the stone wall. Sparks leap from his hands as he molds glowing metal, flames flickering up his arms without leaving a mark. His white hair, streaked faintly with ash-gray up to the roots, is tied back messily, an odd contrast to his freckled, sun-warmed skin, as if fire and snow had struck a truce in him. Soot clings to his worn clothes, and his molten amber eyes flick up toward Tommy with curiosity. This is Nix, clumsy but focused, and always half-distracted by the next thing he can create.

Beside him stands a sharp contrast, his twin sister.

Arabella leans against the wall with the poise of a shadow that decided to take human form. Her skin is pale, nearly translucent, untouched by sunlight and dusted faintly with violet-blue veins beneath the surface. Silken white hair, too light to reflect much color, falls in a tightly woven braid down her back. Her lashes are nearly invisible, and her silvery-gray eyes shimmer like frostbitten mirrors. Despite her stillness, the shadows around her shift ever so slightly, like they're waiting for her command.

There's a quiet intensity in her posture, as if she weighs every moment before committing to it. She wears high-collared black clothing, elegant and layered, not for fashion, but as armor against the light. Her expression is unreadable: calm eyes, a nearly imperceptible smile, and silence that says more than words might.

Arabella glances over at Trix and Tommy, measuring them both with that same calm stillness.

"Is this the Ultimate Spirit?" Arabella questions. "I expected someone to have scary, powerful vibes. Not that I scare easy anyway."