Nova's Blade

Chapter 19

Backstage, Nova girds herself for the upcoming fray, her focus sharpened to a razor's edge. She weaves through the air, her crimson sword an extension of her resolve, honing her movements in a dance of controlled chaos. The suit, now familiar, responds to her every command, growing more fluid and natural with each precise strike. Alistair watches from the sidelines, his gaze holding a glint of admiration as Nova masters her preparation, bracing for the storm of the imminent battle.

In the solitary confines of her dressing room, Morgana gazes into the mirror, her reflection a stark silhouette of menace. The mirror ripples, distorting her image as it morphs into the smirking visage of her father, Mr. Galante. His smirk oozes with disdain, an invisible sneer that chills her bones.

"Always the restless spirit, aren't you?" He scoffs, "You think you can mold the world to your liking?"

"I'm faring better than you ever did," she retorts, the corners of her lips curling into a cruel smile that reflects her father's.

"We'll see," he smirks, his image wavering before fading into the form of her brother. Her harsh, predatory gaze softens momentarily as she faces him.

"Morgana, you've changed," he says, concern seeping through his words.

"Change was forced upon me. Fight or die, that's the game," she snaps, her eyes blazing with defiance. "Do you think I chose this path?"

"What about home, Morgana? What about our family?"

She sighs, a strange melancholic note in the midst of her bitterness. "I had to escape father's grasp. Mother... she stopped loving me."

"But the aftermath, Morgana... the empire you usurped, the innocents you slaughtered. That's not you."

"It had to be someone," she retorts, a sadistic grin twisting her features.

Her brother's image flickers, replaced by the ghostly figure of Iris. The concern in her eyes, too, pierces through Morgana.

"What do you want?" Morgana spits, a venomous glare shot Iris' way.

Speechless, Iris fumbles with her words, her spectral form wavering. "I stood my ground for you, until I couldn't anymore."

"If you'd tried harder, maybe I wouldn't be here," Morgana scoffs, her voice echoing off the cold walls.

"'I sorry my child," Iris utters, her voice imbued with a sorrowful tenderness.

Punching the mirror, shards of glass fly around the room, reflecting the twisted joy in Morgana's eyes.

"I'm not your daughter!"

"But you're mine," a soft, unfamiliar voice chimes.

Morgana whirls around to find a strange woman standing behind her, her eyes filled with an odd mix of sorrow and hope. Shock courses through Morgana, her lips parting in a gasp, "Mom?"

Tears brim in the woman's eyes as she nods, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Morgana's cheek. "I never wanted any of this for you. I wish I could have been there. Iris... she did her best."

"Her best was too weak," Morgana sneers.

"I hope you understand one day, Morgana. We all want to do better, but life... life sometimes gets in the way. I hope you can forgive me."

"For what?"

"For leaving you."

With a flicker of something resembling remorse, Morgana looks down, her eyes glistening. "I... I blame myself for what happened to you."

"You were the best thing that ever happened to me, Morgana."

"Really?"

"Yes."