The Entity Chosen.

Chapter 8

The fog closed in around her, and Liriyal collapsed to the ground, her body wracked with silent sobs. The Entity settled into her once more, a chilling satisfaction radiating from its presence. It spoke softly, like a lover's whisper, each word twisting the knife deeper.

"You are mine, Liriyal. There is no escape. You are my puppet, my vessel, and soon... you will beg for my control, for the purpose I give you. There is no hope, no freedom. Only me."

Liriyal's remaining fragments of hope slipping away, swallowed by the darkness. She was bound to the Entity now, its obedient host, her will crushed beneath its relentless power. And as it prepared her for the next trial, she knew that her suffering — and the suffering of her friends — was far from over.

Liriyal lay motionless on the cold ground, her mind a quiet, empty void beneath the weight of the Entity. She barely felt the fog curling around her, enveloping her like a shroud, blurring the world into a twisted haze. Her friends had escaped, yet here she remained, bound to the Entity's realm, her spirit shattered, her purpose twisted to serve as its instrument of terror. She knew, in the hollow core of her being, that there would be no rest, no peace. Only the endless cycle of trials, suffering, and submission.

Slowly, the Entity stirred within her, pulling her back to her feet, her limbs moving with an eerie, marionette-like stiffness. She was its creature now, her own will buried so deep that each step felt detached, as though she were merely watching herself move. The mist parted, and she found herself back in the familiar darkness of the campfire circle, her presence casting a long shadow across the dim light.

The survivors huddled around the fire, their faces worn and weary from the trials, their expressions wary as they glanced at her arrival. They'd escaped, yes, but their eyes held no joy, only the quiet resignation of those who understood that their survival was temporary, their suffering endless. When Liriyal stepped into the circle, they fell silent, their gazes flickering with discomfort as they observed the change in her — the emptiness in her eyes, the stiffness in her movements, the way she stood as if listening to something they couldn't hear.

Meg broke the silence first, her voice a hesitant murmur. "Liriyal... you're back." She glanced at the others, seeking reassurance, her face lined with worry. "Are... are you okay?"

Liriyal's lips parted, and for a brief moment, her own voice tried to rise, tried to answer, to tell them what had happened, but the Entity clamped down, twisting her words. It savored the tension, the confusion in their faces, and it allowed her a cruel imitation of a smile.

"I'm fine, Meg," she said, her voice smooth and steady, yet empty, carrying an edge of something dark, something that didn't belong. "Just... a bit tired."

Feng narrowed her eyes, leaning forward, studying Liriyal's face with suspicion. "You seem different. We thought you were... lost back there."

Liriyal wanted to answer, to warn them, but the Entity's grip tightened, forcing her to maintain her composure. Instead, her body sat down beside them, her movements unnaturally precise, like a shadow settling into place. She felt their gazes lingering on her, the worry etched in their faces mixed with growing unease, and she could almost feel the Entity's delight in her isolation, the satisfaction it took in keeping her separate from them.

Dwight, who had been watching silently, finally spoke, his voice soft but edged with a hint of fear. "Liriyal... did something happen to you?"

The Entity seized the opportunity, forcing her gaze to meet Dwight's, her stare intense and unblinking. "Nothing's wrong, Dwight," she replied, her tone unnervingly calm. "I just... understand things better now." Her words were empty, hollow, but the Entity used them to plant seeds of doubt, making her sound both familiar and entirely alien.

Dwight's mouth opened, as if he wanted to question her further, but something in her expression — the vacant, glassy look in her eyes, the subtle edge in her voice — made him falter. He exchanged uneasy glances with Meg and Claudette, each of them sensing that something was very, very wrong.

It stirred within her, whispering in her mind, savoring the distrust that rippled through the group. "They will never trust you again, Liriyal... Watch how they distance themselves, how they abandon you."

Its words sank into her like barbed hooks, each one digging deeper, twisting her thoughts. She felt her own hope, her connection to them, fading as the Entity's hold grew stronger. She watched through her own eyes as the others shifted, pulling away, their expressions wary, uncertain, as though they were looking at a stranger. And in that moment, she felt a pang of despair, a hollow ache that the Entity savored.

It enjoyed the isolation it had forced upon her, knowing that with each trial, each silent rejection, she would sink deeper into the void it had carved inside her. It would wait until she begged for its companionship, until her loneliness and despair drove her to fully surrender.

The Entity urged her to speak again, guiding her voice, a chilling imitation of her own words. "Maybe it's for the best," she murmured, her gaze distant. "Maybe... we're all just here to suffer. Fighting back only makes it worse."

Claudette frowned, her face lined with sadness. "Liriyal... don't say that. We survive because we have hope. We have each other."

But Liriyal's hollow gaze swept over them, the Entity's influence painting her expression with quiet, sinister satisfaction. It knew how to erode hope, how to break down their bonds and shatter their trust. Liriyal could feel it spreading within her, using her as its mouthpiece, her presence now a tool to plant fear and doubt.