Page 104 of Splitting Secrets
Emotions flow through me one after the other as the people around me process the bloody scene before them. Anger. Guilt. Sadness. Remorse. Mourning.
I need to shut them out, but I can’t pause long enough to get into my head and close the door.
The Midnight Syndicate doesn’t care who or what they destroy. They’re only focused on creating mayhem.
We may live on different sides of the fight, but we’re all still human. These are our friends and neighbors. Our distant cousins and aunts and uncles—brothers and sisters. We’re fighting beside people who have nothing more than blades or guns to defend themselves against the guerrilla warfare of the gifted Midnight Syndicate.
I’m digging my blades into people who I’ve never met—people who probably don’t deserve to be killed. Years of training with Griffin could never prepare me for the emotional toll it takes to watch people collapse to the ground at my hand. It’s wrong.
All of this is so, so wrong.
Suddenly, everything Finley has been trying to tell me ties together.
We were never meant to have this fight.
This isn’t how it was meant to be. This is what the Landrys built this town to escape from.Thisis what inspired hundredsof people to jump on a ship and migrate here without any guaranteed destination in mind.
The evil followed, though. They broke down a peaceful system because they thrived on chaos. They never wanted a reprieve—they wanted to conquer. And my descendants, who only wanted to live their lives in harmony, had to suffer to give it to them.
Generations worth of rage blazes through me, electrocuting my veins and kick-starting my heart until it pounds against my ribcage. Finley appears at my side, his entire body outlined in glowing red and oranges instead of the usual dull white that’s always there.
He fixes his eyes on me—brilliant red orbs—and nods his head once in a silent confirmation.
We can’t do this anymore. The brutal death and destruction. The control and manipulation. Our side is getting annihilated out here because we’ve got less than half the gifted power thanks to their scheming and stealing. Thanks to them siphoning from Nocturne Valley until there was nothing left to give.
They need their gifts back.
I pause my steps, sending out a quick mental command for Raze to watch my back as I close my eyes and concentrate on the source of my power.
This could debilitate me. It could deplete me of everything, just like I experienced when my grief over Poppy overtook me. But it could also give our side the boost they need to survive another day. To walk away from this war, even if we don’t necessarily take down the Syndicate the way we want.
We need this.
Every single one of us on the rebellion side needs this.
I was able to do it on a smaller scale when I had my nervous breakdown. Surely, with Finley’s help and a little more control, I can do it now.
I start off slowly, gently sorting each set of gifts in my mind. Then I connect each one with the people around me who match the vibration. Carefully. Subtly, so they don’t even realize what’s happening until it’s done.
I continue with this for a few moments, expanding more and more until I reach the edge of the chaos. It’s as if my soul has separated from my body, lifting above everyone to get a bird’s eye view. One by one, I see members of the rebellion realize what’s happened—see them feel the new, foreign power in their veins. Some of them have never had the chance to experience it. Others obviously miss it.
“Don’t exhaust yourself,”Raze warns, his voice a mix of worry and amazement.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure.
The fight picks up as people test their gifts, a new wave of hope surging through the town. Then absolute pandemonium breaks loose.
The first strike comes from the Primarises on our side as a new wave of elemental warriors unleashes chaos—flames roaring down alleyways, torrents of water surging through the streets to push back Syndicate forces. The Syndicate is shocked, but they quickly recover and retaliate with their own dark magic, twisting the elements into storms of destruction.
From above, the Aetheris warriors charge in, using kinetic energy to leap across rooftops and crash into enemy lines with bone-shattering force. Their movements blur, dodging attacks with superhuman reflexes. Blades clash, buildings tremble.
Amid the chaos, Valerians work their craft, weaving through the battlefield unseen. Whispers drift through the air, slipping into the minds of the Syndicate’s soldiers, planting doubt, fear, and hesitation. Some drop their weapons entirely, overcome by confusion and guilt. Others turn against their own, unable to distinguish friend from foe.
But just as we do, the Syndicate’s leaders have mental defenses of their own to resist intrusion. A battle of willpower ensues, with gifted empaths locking eyes, struggling for dominance in a war fought with thoughts instead of fists.
In the shadows, Luminara operates like wraiths. Dark figures melt into the alleys, vanishing and reappearing in bursts of light, assassinating Syndicate leaders before they can cast their deadly spells.
At the battle’s peak, the air ripples unnaturally, and I realize that Aeternum has begun spinning their own rebuttal. Time itself begins to twist. Fighters move in double-exposures, reliving the same moments, reacting before attacks land. The Syndicate’s enforcers scream as they’re frozen in place or aged into frailty within seconds.
