Heathen Chronicles - Changed

Chapter 37 - The Breaking Point

Raphael's POV

I stared at the General, my breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. The venom from the creature's talons—my mother's talons—was a slow-moving fire in my veins. My wings felt like lead weights pinned to my back, shredded and useless.

But it was the sight of him, standing over the carcass of the woman he had destroyed, that truly burned. He looked at me not as a person, but as a prize. A trophy to be mounted.

'He thinks I'm playing hard to get? He thinks this is a game?'

"You speak of legacies and kingdoms," I spat, the copper taste of blood coating my tongue. "But all I see is a coward hiding behind a desk and a needle."

The General's smile didn't falter. He moved with a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age, his blazer discarded to reveal a tactical harness loaded with specialized tech. He wasn't just a leader; he was his own experiment.

"I am the architect of the new world, Raphael. And every architect needs a cornerstone."

He lunged.

***

Dwayne's POV

We were huddled in the back of the black jet, the hum of the engines vibrating through the floor. It felt like a cage, even though it was our only way out. I looked at Taylor and Ntsakela; their faces were pale, illuminated by the harsh red emergency lights of the hangar.

"Where is she?" Ntsakela whispered, her voice cracking. "We can't leave her."

I looked toward the cockpit where Bash was arguing with the twins. Through the reinforced glass, I could see the chaos outside. The Heathens were a blur of wings, steel, and silver light.

Then I saw them. Victoria and Jeydon. They were tucked into a corner of the jet, whispering to each other. They didn't look scared—they looked expectant. Like they were waiting for the General to walk through the door and hand them their reward.

'If Raphael doesn't kill them, I swear to God, I will.'

The building groaned again. A heavy scent of ozone filled the air. The storm was here.

***

Ripper's POV

Temptress was a whirlwind of silver. Her triton whistled through the air, inches from my throat. She was faster than before, fueled by a desperate need to please the General.

"He'll discard you just like the rest, Temptress!" I roared, parrying a strike that sent a shockwave up my arms. "You're just a placeholder until he gets Raphael!"

"Liar!" she shrieked, her face contorting into something hideous.

I felt a pull in my gut—a cold, hollow sensation. Raphael's light was dimming. She was giving up. The grief of her mother's fate was dragging her into the dark.

'No. Not today. You don't get to die today.'

I ignored Temptress's next move, taking a shallow cut to my shoulder just so I could get inside her guard. I slammed the hilt of my sword into her jaw, sending her spinning back.

"Oblivion! NOW!"

***

Oblivion's POV

The soldier with the exoskeleton didn't feel pain. Every time my blade connected, it made a sickening clink, barely leaving a scratch on his gray, hardened skin. He swung his axe again, a mindless machine of destruction.