American Royalty III

Part 34: Gotta love a dramatic entrance

Kit stood alone in the demigod common room, her celestial bronze armor gleaming faintly in the dim light, the weight of it oddly comforting despite the chaos raging outside. The sounds of the war were deafening, muffled only slightly by the thick walls of the room. She longed to be out there, fighting by her friends' sides, but she knew this wasn't her time yet. Not if the plan was to succeed. She had to wait, and waiting was the hardest part.

Her raven-black hair, streaked with electric blue highlights, was pulled back into a high ponytail. It swayed slightly with every move she made, but it was her eyes that caught her attention. She glanced into a nearby mirror, seeing the stormy depths of her gaze staring back at her. The ocean was a reflection of her soul—swirling with power, with anger, with everything she had endured. Her breath caught for a moment, but she forced herself to look away.

A loud crash outside the window shook her to her core. She stumbled back slightly, nearly falling into a flashback, but she steadied herself. She wouldn't let herself get lost in the past again, not now. Not with everything that was on the line. She took a deep breath, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Then, a hiss, sharp and cold, slithered through the room, wrapping itself around her mind like a serpent. Voldemort's voice filled the air, eerily amplified, echoing from all around. Her heart skipped a beat as she listened, her body rigid, muscles tense.

"You have fought valiantly... but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

There was a beat of silence before his voice returned, even more chilling.

"Harry Potter, I speak now directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. Should you do so, I give my word that no other life will be lost on this night. You have one hour. If, at the end of that time, you have not given yourself up, then I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who tries to conceal you from me."

Kit's heart raced as the words sank in, the weight of them pressing against her chest. Harry... Voldemort was giving him one hour. One hour to make a choice that could change everything. Kit's mind raced as she processed the implications, the strategy behind it. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword, the cold metal grounding her, helping her focus.

Before she could think any further, Rocky's bark snapped her back to the present. The dog trotted over to her, his eyes wide with concern. He nudged her gently, his way of sensing something she hadn't quite caught. She sank down onto the couch, exhaustion overtaking her. As soon as she sat, Rocky jumped onto her lap, his warmth a welcome comfort. She let out a shaky breath and began to stroke his fur, but just as her breathing began to steady, her mind betrayed her.

A flashback hit her like a tidal wave.

She was back in Tartarus, the clang of her sword hitting the ground ringing in her ears as she faced the depths of the underworld. The pain, the torment, the feeling of being crushed beneath the weight of everything she'd been through—it was all too much. But then, the clang from the room outside her snapped her out of it, and she quickly reached for her sword, fighting against the darkness of the memory. Focus, she told herself, pulling herself back into the present.

But the scene shifted, and suddenly she was on Mount Olympus, facing a giant, fighting alongside Artemis. The adrenaline surged, her muscles straining as she swung her sword in powerful arcs, pushing against the creature's immense strength. Her heart was pounding, and she could feel her body moving instinctively. Then, just as quickly as the battle had started, she was standing at Camp Half-Blood, the battle over. The air was thick with the scent of blood and smoke. She was walking down the hill, her feet heavy, when suddenly her vision blurred, and everything around her seemed to spin. Her head swam, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she felt herself floating in some disorienting haze.