[Jessica PoV]
Jessica couldn’t pinpoint when it all began, but she did rember the day she first t it. She was around four years old at the ti. They hadn’t yet moved to the United States. Her family still lived in so suburb on the outskirts of London, though precisely where escaped her. Those early mories were shrouded in a fog of childhood oblivion. Still, certain monts shone through in flashes.
From early on, Jessica had noticed the difference in how she and Jamie were treated. Her father acted as if Jamie didn’t exist. He’d ignore the boy’s every accomplishnt. It didn't matter whether he secured the top grades in his class, the city, or even the nation. To her father, Jamie was nothing more than a ghost.
Their mother, on the other hand, was the stark opposite. If her father’s coldness was like a frigid wind, her mother’s hostility was a scorching fla. She made a point of telling Jamie how unwanted he was, sparing no chance to remind him that he should never have been born. He was ten years old, yet Alexandra would hound him, day and night, as to why he bothered coming back ho at all.
“Because it’s still fun here,” Jamie would say with an infuriatingly casual shrug, stoking her mother’s ire as if he delighted in her fury.
Over ti, Jessica began to see what her parents wanted to ignore. Best, what they feared most. It was that flicker of darkness lurking behind those blue eyes of his.
One particular afternoon, the truth of it hit ho.
Jessica had been dropped off at the elite private school she and Jamie both attended. It was the sort of institution where small dramas manifested in subtle jealousies and quiet, behind-the-scenes scheming. It was a place for aristocrats and billionaires to navigate in civilized, if ruthless, ways. Altercations, when they did arise, rarely beca anything more than whispered rumors or manipulation.
But that day… that day was different.
Jessica dashed across the lawn inside the vast school grounds, a leather-bound ball bouncing between her and a few friends. It was ant to be another carefree recess, a brief respite in a place where reputations and pedigrees mattered more than childish gas. But then, in an ill-tid throw, Jessica’s aim went astray, and the ball collided with one of the older boys. He was tall, with a heavy Russian accent that made it hard for her to parse his words.
“S-sorry,” she stamred, bowing her head in apology.
But whether from wounded pride or just a sense of entitlent, the boy refused to forgive. “Not a chance. You got all dirty,” he sneered, brushing dust off his blazer. Then, with an effortless shove, he planted a hand on top of Jessica’s head and forced her downward. “A worm like you should lick the mud off my boots to clean up your ss.”
Around them, a hush settled. Other students looked on but made no move to interfere. Perhaps they feared the boy’s bullying, or they wated to enjoy another drama unfolding.
A fourteen-year-old, the bully pressed Jessica’s cheek into the dirt with his boot. The coarse tread ground against her skin, and tears pricked her eyes. “Clean this boot and, maybe, I’ll forgive your stupidity,” he said to his snickering friends.
From her forced position on the ground, Jessica looked at a familiar figure sprinting across the grass. Jamie. He wove through the onlookers with single-minded purpose. His face showed a fury she had never seen before, even within the toxic walls of their ho.
“Jamie!” she called in a trembling plea.
But the mont her cry hit the air, she caught sight of sothing in his expression. He had a raw ferocity, as if part of him had snapped. He clutched a cafeteria fork in one hand and a dull kitchen knife in the other. He must have bolted straight from the dining hall the second he saw trouble.
“I-is that all you’ve got?” the older boy taunted, starting to turn toward Jamie. “You think I’m afraid of so little—”
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He never finished. Jamie lunged forward, driving the fork straight toward the older boy’s face. The steel fork dug into his eye with a sickening pop. A shriek tore through the air, cutting the laughter of the bully’s friends short.
Suddenly, all the unspoken rules of this prestigious institution collapsed in a heartbeat. As Jessica scrambled backward, the whispers and stares from the onlookers crashed over her. She wished that soone, anyone, would intervene, but in that mont, there was no one to stop what was unfolding. The boy’s screaming rang across the school grounds, and Jamie’s eyes were lit with a fire that, for the first ti in her life, frightened her.
A mont of stunned silence allowed the older boy’s agonized scream to pierce the air. His companions, all teenagers towering over Jamie’s ten-year-old fra, imdiately descended upon him. Jessica could only watch in horror as a savage brawl erupted.
Despite being dwarfed by the older boys, Jamie fought like a cornered beast. His knife and fork were lost early in the battle, but that failed to stop him. His blows grew more desperate, more feral, until it seed he had tapped into a fury that transcended all reason. By the ti teachers and security guards finally shoved their way through the onlookers, the fight had reached its climax.
Jamie lay in the grass, gasping for breath. Three of his ribs were fractured, his left arm and right leg broken. Streaks of blood and dark bruises painted his skin. Yet he still tried to rise, teeth bared, as if ready to leap back into the enemy.
anwhile, his assailants fared far worse. So had eyes swollen shut or bones jutting beneath torn flesh. It was hard to determine who had suffered the deeper wounds. Yet none of them escaped unscathed from Jamie’s relentless onslaught.
In the end, both Jessica and Jamie were expelled. The school handled the scandal with discretion, ensuring no images or accounts reached the public. After all, the sons of powerful families were involved, and no one wanted to see their reputations tarnished.
Jessica rembered sitting in the back seat of the car that day, staring at Jamie through tear-blurred eyes. He was bandaged in multiple places, yet barely seed to notice—or care—about the consequences of what he had done.
--
Jessica's wrists chafed against the steel cuffs that locked her to the stone floor. She could feel every link of the chain biting into her flesh. Yet her mind, though weary, remained razor-focused.
She didn’t want to tell her guardian, but her hope was starting to waver. Maybe there was nothing to be done. Maybe this was her end.
However, as he got to the hall, her face lit up.
“He’s your brother? He’s in Jas’s body?” Jessica’s guardian hissed in her thoughts. “He’s worthless. Better to find another strategy.”
Jessica’s lips twisted in a faint smile. ‘Not worthless,’ she thought. ‘If anyone could ruin Theren’s twisted ritual, it's Jamie.’
The idea ca to her mind. ‘I need to make him hit ,’ Jessica thought.
As the gate appeared from the black goo, ssages flickered, shouting warnings.
[Stop him]
[Be careful]
[Avoid fighting it]
[While the gate remains open, the ritual continues]
[He is still mortal]
“Finally! My lord!” Theren cried, dropping to his knees in reverence as though addressing a god made manifest. “You shall step forth into the land of the living as the greatest weapon of war this realm has ever seen!”
[He is corrupting Sith’s body]
[They are using Sith’s remains to make a weapon]
[This is disgusting]
“He… he corrupted it,” Jessica spat, voice raw from exhaustion. She glared at Theren. “A twisted abomination.”
“Silence!” Theren snarled, lunging toward her. “You think I don’t know what you hear? You think I don’t hear your pathetic goddess, begging to stop?” He jabbed a finger against Jessica’s forehead, driving her head back.
“She can ddle all she wants,” he snarled, his voice woven with a manic triumph. “But the mont I removed her paladin from the field, her power beca useless.” A loud crack rang out as he struck Jessica’s cheek with the back of his hand. The strike sent her sprawling to the floor with a fresh bruise marking her skin.
Instead of trembling with fear, Jessica rely chuckled under her breath, a hollow laugh.
Jessica coughed, tasting blood on her tongue. She let out a hollow laugh that made Theren flinch.
“You’re so fucked,” she murmured inwardly, because she saw it. Threads of black fury dancing in Jamie’s eyes. Her brother was struggling, body rigid as though resisting a chain of his own. She knew it was only a matter of ti before he let it slip.
Suddenly, Jamie raised himself upright. It seed that he was no longer under the power of the Gate, or even of Theren. He dusted off his hands, then looked at Theren with a calm, almost polite smile.
“Hold on a mont, cousin,” Jamie said. With asured steps, he retrieved his daggers.
He turned back. His smile widened into sothing unhinged. “Shall we begin?”
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