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Chapter 7 – In the Heart of the Night

If darkness had a color, that night was painted with it.

The sky was no longer the sky—stars had been replaced by trembling cracks, and time had begun to tear like warped fabric. The silence echoing through the ruined walls of Kamar-Taj carried more than just the emptiness that follows a battle: it held the breath of something approaching—unseen, yet felt in every cell.

Wanda, Wong, and Strange moved away from the still-open gateway, passing through the silence left behind by the Ancient One’s sacrifice. But the path did not lead to peace—it led deeper into the dark.

Their steps were slow, breaths unsteady. Each bore the weight of silence on their shoulders, avoiding eye contact as if that alone might shatter them. Yet the air… the air had changed.

Wanda stopped abruptly. Magic trembled in her palm. Her gaze locked on a point ahead—an energy seeping like a fracture through the void, teetering between being and non-being.

Wong’s voice rose in a whisper. “Is that… a calling?”

Strange glanced at the Time Stone. “No,” he said. “This… is different.”

The darkness was speaking—as one of their own.

At that moment, the sky tore once more. And the being that fell through it did not fall—it floated. A tall, slender silhouette… cloaked in every shade of black, yet somehow glowing despite them. Two immense wings rose from its shoulders, not of feathers, but of solidified darkness. Their edges sliced the air, spreading absolute silence in their wake.

Nihreth had returned.

He hovered above the ground, feet never touching earth. His eyes were open—but without pupils. As if created not to see the world, but to peer into it. And those eyes fixed directly on Wanda.

“You ran,” he said. His voice held multiple echoes—both male and female, young and endlessly ancient.

Strange stepped forward. “You… were one of V’s callings.”

Nihreth tilted his head slightly. “I was.”

Wong’s hands were poised. “Aren’t you anymore?”

Something flickered in Nihreth’s gaze—perhaps regret, perhaps rage, perhaps nothing at all.

“V gave me a name,” he said. “But I was more than that name. He wanted me to be his shadow. But I… I was the night itself.”

Wanda stepped closer, cautiously. “The Ancient One saw you differently. She believed there was light within you.”

Nihreth turned his head. “The Ancient One believed many things. And they are all dead.”

The words hung in the air like a final breath. Silence… and then, an eruption of magic. Strange made the first move, hurling a temporal ring with a swift gesture. At the same time, Wong slammed a sigil into the ground—earth trembled. Wanda’s eyes turned crimson, her magic now fueled not by the source, but by fury.

Nihreth didn’t even need to move. His wings gently spread—every spell that touched the darkness fizzled out. The time ring shattered, the seal scorched, Wanda’s energy echoed in her chest and was pushed back.

“How much you think you’ve learned,” Nihreth said, stepping onto the ground now. “Yet still bound by the chains of the past.”

Strange tried to shine the Time Stone. A ripple opened—a memory from the past began to manifest. But Nihreth only whispered a single word: “Silence.”

And time obeyed.

Strange fell to his knees, as though he’d aged years in an instant. Wong tried to protect him, but as soon as Nihreth’s shadow touched his body, his arm went limp. Wanda rose, gathering all her strength. This time, her magic did not merge with the darkness to yield—it rose to challenge it.

“I’m still standing,” she said. “And that means something.”

Nihreth paused. His eyes scanned Wanda from head to toe. “There is still a spark within you. But sparks… vanish in storms.”

Wanda raised her arms to the sky, light bursting outward. Reality bent, the ground cracked, the sky briefly lit up. Wong pooled his remaining energy to stabilize the area. Strange, hands trembling, once again tried to twist time.

Nihreth’s shoulders tensed. This time, he struck—his wings surged forward. Darkness took physical form. Two massive tempests tore through the air, hurling Wong into a wall—he lost consciousness instantly. Strange summoned a final defense circle, but the darkness wrapped around it and consumed him.

Wanda lunged forward without a thought. No words were spoken—her magic no longer needed incantation. What rose from within her was raw agony and fury—pure, unfiltered magic.

She collided with Nihreth.

The air split between their powers. Shockwaves rose from the ground to the heavens. Trees, stones, even temporal echoes were torn apart. As tears of energy streamed from her eyes, Wanda struck Nihreth in the chest.

Nihreth, for the first time, recoiled.

But it wasn’t defeat—it was acceptance.

“Goodbye,” he whispered. “For choosing light.”

And the darkness fell over everything.

Wanda’s scream shattered not just air—but time.

The darkness that swept over the land struck something deeper—the fragile human defiance still flickering within her after centuries of pain. Every blow was infused with regret; every strike carried fury at the wounded memories left behind by V. Yet this was no longer a battle—it was a requiem. Like the final light of a dying star aware of its own end.

Nihreth spread his wings wide. Even the ground beneath him could not withstand his presence—stones dissolved into shadow. Wanda’s every spell, though brilliant, was only a brief flare—then the darkness patiently rewound and consumed it.

Strange, collapsed on the ground, still struggled to pull time back. His hands trembled, eyes bloodshot. Wong lay unconscious, his body occasionally twitching—a sign that pain had not yet left him.

With a final cry of magic, Wanda rose again. Spinning midair, she formed a vortex of her own light within the darkness. Her eyes saw nothing but Nihreth. The void she touched tore time’s fabric like blood. Then she spoke, with everything she had buried until that moment:

“You were a calling, but I was a sister! You are V’s shadow, but I fought beside him, I bled for him, I weptfor him! Yes, I am a witch—but I am also human. And humans… are sometimes more stubborn than gods!”

Power gathered in the air. It spun, glowed, trembled.

And Wanda hurled it.

For the first time, Nihreth did not resist the spell. He only waited. When it struck his chest, it exploded. The sky opened. Thunder roared. The earth split. For a moment, the world held its breath.

And then…

Darkness fell again.

Wanda was thrown through the air. Parts of her being hung suspended in time. When she hit the ground, she was still alive. But in her eyes—there was no longer a warrior. Only the silence of a weary traveler.

Nihreth approached. He knelt beside her. His eyes did not gleam with triumph—but sorrow.

“There was light in you,” he whispered. “But light only holds meaning in the presence of darkness.”

He placed a hand on her forehead. A soft pulse spread out.

And Wanda’s eyes closed.

Strange rose at that moment. Staggering forward. Every temporal seal on his body had shattered. But his hands still trembled, his eyes still searched for an exit from the past.

“Why… did you kill her?” he asked, unable to hide the pain in his voice.

Nihreth turned away. “Because everything V created… must return to him.”

Strange summoned another ring of magic. His arm seemed broken, but his resolve was unbroken. “She’s still here… and I must pass.”

Nihreth lowered his head. “Then… pass.”

Strange lunged.

Nihreth merely lifted his wing.

And the world darkened once more.

Time froze, then shattered. Strange’s body fell like a statue—his honor preserved, but his existence erased. Silence prevailed. Even Wong’s unconscious body seemed to respect it, retreating into deeper stillness.

And then… the sky darkened again.

But this time, it was different.

A vibration echoed in the air—a command, a melody. Like the beginning of an ancient ritual. The ground did not tremble. Time did not flow. Emptiness took shape.

And it arrived with footsteps.

A figure emerged from the void—familiar, yet utterly changed.

V.

His garments billowed like wind. The dark cloak flowing from his shoulders moved without touching the ground. In his eyes, there was no light, no fire—only judgment. The second voice rising from within him no longer whispered. It spoke.

“All must return. Darkness to its master.”

Nihreth fell to one knee. His wings folded. The darkness retreated. “My lord.”

V did not approach him. His gaze swept over the fallen—Wanda, Strange, Wong. To each, he gave a moment of silence. Then, he looked up.

“It was a delayed call,” he said. “But nothing can halt the coming of final darkness.”

He took a deep breath. Not of an immortal—but of a god sworn to vengeance. Then he slowly looked to the heavens.

“It’s time to return home,” he said.

And the sky trembled with him.

The gods would awaken. The universe would kneel once more.

Because V had returned.

And this time… he was not alone.