Chapter 12 Summons and Sacrifices

                                    

                                          
Ch 12
Summons and Sacrifices
The holographic memory shimmered in the air, flickering like a dying star, before dissolving into the suffocating void.
The darkness pressed against me, thick and tangible, a silence so deep it clawed at my sanity.
Somehow, I was still alive.
The Keeper's blade-sharp enough to sever dimensions-had hovered inches from my heart, yet he had stayed in his hand. The phantom sensation of its cold edge lingered on my skin, a cruel reminder of his power. 
If he'd wanted to end me, it would have been effortless.
Every day since then, the same question haunted me:
Why?
Was I spared as a twisted act of mercy or punishment? Did he relish watching me drown in the fear of his inevitable return?
For centuries, I carried that fear like a weight on my soul, until the day the heroes slew him.
For the first time, I felt relief.
For the first time, I dared to hope.
But hope is fragile.
The prophecy shattered it, bringing with it the bitter truth. The Keeper-your so-called Demon King-was returning. And I... I was not strong enough to face him again.
That is why I need heroes. Why I need you.
I know I don't deserve your help. My hands are stained with blood, my past littered with sins I committed to survive. But please... if there's a shred of humanity in you, help me.


Keith's boots scraped against the cold stone floor as he stepped forward, his posture tense but resolute. His eyes, bright with conviction, locked onto the goddess.
"I don't know if I trust you," he said, his voice low but steady. "But if this Keeper is as dangerous as you say, then I can't just stand by. 
If I can help stop him, from hurting people I will. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't at least try."
The silence that followed was broken by a sharp snort.
Roser stomped forward, his every step a clash against the tense air. His eyes burned with fury as he grabbed Keith's shoulder and spun him around.
"Hold it right there, Keith," Roser growled, his voice like a low rumble of thunder.
Keith raised his hands in a placating gesture, his brow furrowing in concern. "Roser, come on, let's handle this rationally-"
But Roser wasn't listening. In a single, swift motion, he turned to the goddess and grabbed a fistful of her shimmering hair.
 The strands were unnaturally smooth and cold, almost metallic to the touch. He yanked her head back, his face inches from hers.
"Listen here, bitch," he hissed, his breath hot against her pale skin. "We can't lie in this place, so I know you're telling the truth. 
But don't insult us with your fake tears. If you're gonna manipulate us, at least try harder."
The goddess's expression shifted, her feigned sorrow evaporating. A sly, cruel smirk spread across her lips as her eyes gleamed with amusement.