IX

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ɴᴇᴡ ᴏʀʟᴇᴀɴꜱ
May 2018

Beyoncé paced around her apartment, her mind racing with unease. The last few weeks had been tense, filled with cryptic messages and subtle threats. It had all started with a chilling note left on her windowsill: *"Your presence is required. Do not ignore this summons."* There was no signature, but she didn't need one. She knew who it was from.

Her father, Matthew, had finally reached out, and that meant only one thing—trouble. Beyoncé had avoided the Dominion for years, staying far away from its dark, suffocating grasp. But now, it seemed the past was catching up with her. As the leader of the Dominion, her father was ruthless, manipulative, and utterly unforgiving. If he wanted something, he would stop at nothing to get it.

Beyoncé glanced at the clock, feeling the dread settle in her stomach. She had been avoiding this for days, hoping it would go away, but the unspoken command was clear. Her father wasn't asking—he was demanding. And if she didn't comply, the consequences could be devastating, not just for her, but for the people she cared about. She had to face him, even if every instinct told her to run.

With a resigned sigh, she grabbed her jacket and left her apartment, slipping into the night like a shadow. The streets were eerily quiet, the city's usual bustle muted under the dark sky. As she walked, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, like eyes were tracking her every move. It wasn't paranoia—she knew better. Matthew's enforcers had a way of blending into the shadows, always lurking, always observing.

---

The entrance to the Dominion was hidden, buried deep within an abandoned subway station, long forgotten by the rest of the world. To anyone else, it looked like a dead end—a dark, dilapidated tunnel that led nowhere. But to those who knew, it was a gateway to a world that most humans could never comprehend.

Beyoncé approached the hidden entrance, her heart pounding as she descended the crumbling steps. The air grew colder, and the familiar scent of damp stone and stale air enveloped her. She reached the bottom, and a pair of heavy, iron doors loomed ahead, carved with ancient symbols that pulsed with an eerie, otherworldly glow. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on the cold metal, feeling it hum beneath her palm before it creaked open, revealing the dark expanse beyond.

Inside, the Dominion was a labyrinth of winding corridors, lit by flickering torches that cast long, jagged shadows on the stone walls. It was a place of power and fear, a kingdom hidden from the world above, ruled by the beings who thrived in the darkness. Beyoncé had grown up here, surrounded by the Dominion's twisted rules and cold, unyielding hierarchy. She had escaped once, but now it felt like she was being dragged back into its suffocating embrace.

She made her way through the corridors, her footsteps echoing in the silence. The further she went, the stronger the sensation of being pulled into the depths of something dark and inescapable. Finally, she reached a set of ornate doors, guarded by two figures who straightened as she approached.

"Miss Beyoncé," one of them said, bowing slightly. "Your father is expecting you."

She nodded, swallowing the knot of anxiety in her throat, and pushed the doors open.

---

The chamber was massive, with high ceilings that disappeared into the darkness above. The walls were lined with intricate tapestries and ancient artifacts, relics of the Dominion's long, bloody history. At the far end of the room, seated on a grand, throne-like chair, was Matthew. His presence was commanding, his posture relaxed, but there was a cold, calculating glint in his eyes as he watched her approach.

"Ah, Beyoncé," he said, his voice smooth and deceptively warm. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about us."

Beyoncé forced a smile, though it felt brittle. "I've been busy."

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