The Magician of Miracles Chapter 3: The Return from Death

(Marcus’s Perspective)

I pulled the dagger from Jevan’s chest, watching as the blood spread across the dark floor, tracing winding lines like ominous veins. I remained standing over the body, staring at it without fully grasping what I had just done. I was supposed to feel sothing, anything. But all that was there was emptiness.

I inhaled slowly, trying to make sense of the heavy void. Was it regret? Or just numbness? This wasn’t the ending I had imagined. I thought I’d feel relief, victory, sothing that would give all of this aning. But all I found was nothing.

I reached out to wipe the blood from my fingers, but it clung stubbornly, refusing to let go. From the corner of the room, out of the shadows, a strange entity stirred. It had no clear features, just a mass of shifting darkness. It stopped beside the body, observed it for a mont, then said in a cold voice:

"Looks like you’ve completed the mission."

I didn’t answer. I sheathed the dagger and turned toward the door. My steps were steady, but inside I felt like the wreckage of a ship tossed in a storm. I was searching for sothing. An answer? Or maybe just a reason for what I’d done. But there was nothing.

His voice ca again, cutting through my thoughts:

"Don’t tell you feel sad."

I kept walking. I didn’t look back. But his words stuck to my mind, refusing to leave. I heard his footsteps approaching. Then, in a low but sharp voice, he said:

"Are you sad because you mutilated your old friend’s body? Because you shattered the trust that once existed between you?"

I stopped. My fingers curled inside the glove. I nearly responded, but the words caught in my throat.

I muttered:

"It had to be done..."

But even as I said it, a lump ford in my throat. I kept walking without turning. There was no point in talking. I had nothing to say, and I didn’t want to waste ti on aningless justifications.

I convinced myself that his words ant nothing. Or at least I tried to.

"Well, it doesn’t matter. Either way, I have work to do."

It sounded like he was speaking to himself more than to . He kept staring at the body intently, then said:

"I still can’t believe he managed to escape us for three whole years. The fact that he survived this long is honestly impressive."

Just before I disappeared behind the door, I noticed sothing strange from the corner of my eye. Dark limbs extended from the shadows around him, moving fluidly toward the body.

I stopped at the threshold, and then he murmured with a hint of confusion:

"There’s no information about the System Pieces."

"No information?"

"Nothing. Your old friend’s mory is completely empty regarding the Pieces of the System. Are you sure you got the right person?"

His words struck like lightning. Could I have been wrong? But no. That’s impossible. I’m sure that was Jevan. Sa sarcastic tone, sa unwavering confidence no matter the situation. Even in his final monts.

The shadow interrupted my thoughts, saying:

"Seems your old friend was smarter than you thought. He wiped his own mories completely before we caught him."

I repeated:

"Wiped his mories?"

I laughed bitterly, but the sound that ca out was hollow, broken, as if I was mocking myself more than the situation. Then I walked away.

"Was that your final safeguard?"

But before I could fully leave, his voice ca again, this ti urgent:

"Aren’t you going to cover up the cri? If the Bureau finds the body, the consequences will be severe."

I stopped, then turned toward him and stared at the shadowy limbs still digging through the corpse for a mont before replying:

"You’ll take care of the evidence. I have a report to send to the higherups."

I didn’t wait for a reply. I kept walking. I had succeeded or so I thought. Another part of the Madness Authority was now under my control. This was supposed to be a crushing victory, a major step toward my goal.

But there was no sense of triumph. No joy. No rush. Only emptiness. Sothing inside broke the mont I chose this path. Or maybe it broke the mont I accepted this Authority.

Still, there was another feeling, faint but painful. Sorrow. I didn’t fully understand it, nor did I want to. But it was there, whispering that Jevan wasn’t just an obstacle in my way.

He was once a friend. I kept walking, my mind drowning in questions. Was it worth it? But I quickly tore those thoughts out at the root. There was no room for weakness now.

I chose this path. From the mont I sought revenge, I knew the price would be steep. I would have my revenge no matter the cost.

Even if it ant giving up my humanity.

Even if I had to bury every last emotion.

This is the path I chose. No turning back. No regret.

And yet, amid the darkness, deep within the silence surrounding , a small voice whispered from inside my head, from the depths of the madness I carried:

"Is it really worth all this sacrifice?"

***

After Marcus left, silence settled over the place. In the center of the room stood a mysterious figure, cloaked in shadow. Its features were unclear. Its eyes wandered over the torn corpse.

The lifeless body lay motionless, its stiff expression holding a faint smile.

The shadowy figure didn’t move at first. It stood still, as if absorbing the scene, or perhaps savoring it.

Then, with calculated slowness, it raised its hand to reveal a small lighter between its thin fingers. When ignited, vibrant flas burst to life, dancing in the air.

With a slight motion, it tossed a small fla onto the body, and soon the fire began devouring the room and the corpse together.

The heat rose, and the orange glow flared around the figure, but it didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat. It simply watched the fire perform its task with the precision of a surgeon devoid of emotion.

For a mont, it seed lost in thought. Perhaps about the dead man, or Marcus, or what would co next. But it didn’t give those thoughts more than a fleeting second.

It turned quietly, and at the door, cast one final glance at the room. In its eyes, if they could be seen, there was no regret and no pity. Only certainty in the inevitability of what happened. Then it rged with the shadows, leaving behind a room being consud by fire.

***

I opened my eyes. Light was not the first thing to greet , but rather the glow of flas consuming everything in their path and the scent of smoke mixed with blood. But in the midst of all this chaos, sothing made no sense I was unhard.

I looked down at my body, cautiously inspecting it. For so reason, it was in good condition. No wounds. No scratches. Even my clothes were clean, as if I hadn’t just been tortured monts ago.

"How? How am I here, alive after everything that happened?"

Questions raced through my head. Had I really died? Were those my final monts? And if so, why am I here now?

I scanned the room. The heat was rising, and smoke was filling the space. I clenched my fists and stepped back. There was no ti to drown in thoughts. The fire was closing in from every direction.

Was this intentional? Was he trying to erase all the evidence by burning everything?

Staying here wasn’t an option. I turned around, searching for any exit. The flas were crawling unnaturally along the floors and walls.

I clenched my jaw and dug my nails into my palms. Whatever this was miracle or curse I had no choice but to survive.

I had no ti to think about the nature of the fire or its strange behavior. The priority was clear: find a way out before the flas consud .

My eyes scanned the room quickly, looking for any exit, any chance of survival. But all paths were blocked. The fire wrapped around them like a hungry beast tightening its grip on its prey.

Then I saw it a small window on the far wall, barely visible through the thick smoke. It looked like the only lifeline in this burning hell. It wasn’t big, but maybe enough for to squeeze through. The problem? I had no idea what awaited on the other side.

I hesitated for a mont. The fire was closing in from behind. There was no ti to think or hesitate. Maybe the window led to a cliff, or another danger just as deadly as the fire. But staying here ant certain death.

I tightened my grip, then charged toward the window with all my strength. I smashed through it. Glass shattered everywhere, shards digging into my hands, causing sharp pain and imdiate bleeding.

But the pain didn’t matter. Escape was all that mattered. I jumped and felt the cold air hit my face, then crashed into the ground hard.

The air was knocked out of my lungs, as if I had been crushed under a giant rock. For a mont, I couldn’t move. Every part of my body scread in protest, my ribs felt shattered.

But I was alive. Despite the pain, I began crawling away from the burning building. The flas roared skyward like a fire beast devouring everything in its path.

I lifted my head with difficulty, searching for any sign of life. But what I saw was a dead world.

The surrounding buildings looked like sothing out of a nightmare. Cracked walls, shattered windows. So had already collapsed, others were on the verge. The silence was absolute no sound except the moan of the wind and the distant crackling of flas.

This place was a reflection of my state. Ruined, yet still standing. Despite the pain, the bleeding, the exhaustion threatening to collapse at any mont, a voice inside scread:

"I survived."

After minutes of exhausting crawling, I spotted an abandoned building, standing like a forgotten skeleton. I entered, careful to stay in the shadows, to hide. Now, I had to catch my breath and think about the next step.

I sat in one of the dark corners, my body heavy with fatigue, my eyes fixed on the burning building I had just escaped.

I knew the fire would attract attention. Maybe rescue teams would arrive. Or the police. Or...

But what happened next defied all logic I had ever known. As I watched, sothing impossible happened. Suddenly, the fire went out.

Not like usual no fading smoke, no dying sparks. It just vanished, all at once. No trace of the fire. No ashes. No rising smoke. Just a silent building, as if it had never been burning monts ago.

My body froze in place. The scene looked like magic. Or a hallucination.

"What was that?"

I had no answer. Nothing about this day made sense. Everything felt like part of a long nightmare.