Tyler Langston had worn many titles in his lifetime, Showman, Family Man, Devil, Demon, and a long list of far less flattering names. Now, he stood at the gates of River Hallow, having obliterated the Church’s army and chased the survivors back to this broken place. Chaos followed wherever he walked, and he reveled in it. But this moment, this one was special.
Tyler watched as his old friend, Marcus Obsidian, approached. The way Marcus moved—each step heavy with fury, eyes burning with a murderous rage, filled Tyler with a deep, perverse satisfaction. He had caused this. He had carved this fury into Marcus with his own hands. And for the first time in a long while… Tyler felt genuinely happy.
Of all the failed candidates for Annihilation, none had worn the mantle so naturally. Marcus didn’t just fit Annihilation—he was born for it.
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“Die, monster!”
The shout didn’t come from Marcus. Tyler turned just in time to meet the blades of Rhaine and Alex, both charging him with deadly intent. He sidestepped effortlessly, graceful and amused.
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“Can’t you see I’m trying to enjoy this moment?” Tyler said, tone mocking, like a father scolding children for interrupting. “Here—play with this while Daddy and son are talking.”
With a casual wave of his hand, the carts full of corpses began to stir. Limbs twitched. Eyes opened. The dead were waking.
Rhaine attacked again, but this time Tyler caught her by the arm mid-swing. He yanked her toward him, and before she could react, he planted a wet, exaggerated kiss on her lips.
“Bet you wanted that for a while!” he grinned, eyes gleaming with madness.
Then he hurled her into the writhing pile of undead.
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Tyler turned to the charging Alex, grinning. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” he said, clearly entertained. He pointed toward Rhaine, who was struggling to fight off the encroaching undead. “You can try to kill me… but she’ll die. Or you can be a hero and save her.”
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Alex froze. There was no time to weigh the options—only instinct. Without hesitation, he turned and rushed to Rhaine’s aid, he was not going to abandon another female that needed him, leaving Tyler untouched.
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Tyler chuckled and let his form slip back into its natural state. “That’s why people like you always lose,” he said mockingly. He was too caught up in his own gloating to notice Marcus approaching from the path.
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The orchestrator of all Marcus’s pain now stood before him. With no warning, Marcus struck.
The blow landed with devastating force, sending Tyler hurtling through the air. His body crashed through a nearby building, shattering wood and stone.
“Tyler!” Marcus roared, his voice nearly demonic. The air around him trembled as a pulse of cold, Annihilation rippled outward, draining the life from everything it touched.
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“Stop them!” Rhaine shouted, shoving Alex away. “Forget me! Kill Tyler!” she yelled, kicking one of the undead aside.
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"Aren’t you full of juice," Tyler muttered as he staggered to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of someone. He didn’t dare take his eyes off Marcus—not again—but for a split second, he could’ve sworn he saw that little girl… Elle.
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Meanwhile, in one of the upstairs windows of Katherine’s house, Elle and Melissa continued their conversation.
“Stop pretending. Who are you really, Elle?” Melissa asked. Her hand trembled—there was a weight behind that question, a danger she couldn’t name. Ever since Elle arrived in River Hallow, she had seemed… wrong. Different. Melissa and Rhaine had both sensed it: Elle wasn’t just a child.
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Elle rested her head against the windowsill. “We all are more than what we appear to be. Even you, Melissa.” Her voice was soft as she watched Tyler toss Rhaine aside like a rag doll. She looked down. “Sometimes, people are faced with something so great, they have to rise above who they were… to overcome it.”
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Melissa held her breath. She chose her next words carefully. “Your name isn’t really Elle, is it?”
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Elle smiled faintly. “In your belief, even your name is not your True one. So, in a sense… you’re right. But I like being called Elle.”
As she finished speaking, her eyes caught the sight of Tyler being blasted into a building. A quiet giggle escaped her lips.
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Melissa frowned. “What’s so funny?” she asked, cautiously stepping closer.
But when she finally reached the window and saw what Elle was laughing at, her blood turned cold.
It was Marcus. He was walking into town.
“We have to get the hell out of here!” Melissa shouted, spinning toward the door. But before she could reach it, it slammed shut by an unseen force.
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“This isn’t your part, Melissa,” Elle said.
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The voice was no longer innocent. It was powerful, ancient, and commanding.
Melissa rattled the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “What do you mean this isn’t my part? That monster is going to kill everyone. You and me included!”
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"You already did your part Melissa." Elle looked at her.
Melissa slowly made her way back to the window," What do you mean, what part did I play?"
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Elle looked back outside, she said a single word. "Orion."
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________________________________________________________________________________
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In the city of Trendell, Orion was brought before the High Council of the Church. Inside the Chamber of Judgment, he sat at the defendant’s table alongside his Speaker. True to his word, Brother Douglas had turned against him. “When I arrived at River Hallow,” Douglas testified, “I discovered that Brother Orion had defied direct orders from the Church. His complete disregard for our laws is evident. He aided Father Lucas in the grand larceny of Church funds!”
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Brother Constance, assigned as Orion’s Speaker for the proceedings, had little hope of winning the case. His only goal was to save Orion’s life.
“Objection!” Constance called out. “There is no proof that Brother Orion ever took any funds from River Hallow!”
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“Overruled,” said Grandfather Lewiston, the presiding judge.
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Douglas pressed on. “Brother Orion himself admitted under oath that he was aware of Father Lucas’s misdeeds. The fact that he did not report them makes him complicit—coercion by omission!”
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“Objection!” Constance protested again. “Brother Douglas is a witness—no rebuttal question was even posed!”
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“Enough!” Grandfather Lewiston barked, rising to his feet. “Overruled.”
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Brother Constance leaned in toward Orion. “It seems the Council won’t show mercy.”
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Orion nodded, trying to maintain his composure. “It is the Creator’s will,” he whispered, though his voice was strained. The infection in his leg was worsening. His face turned pale, and moments later, he collapsed at the table.
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Grandfather Lewiston’s voice echoed through the chamber. “Let the healers tend to him. We will recess until a verdict is reached.”
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Douglas smiled at the sight of Orion slumped over in pain. “It would’ve been easier if you’d just played along,” he muttered to himself.
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Two of the Church’s healers moved in to tend to Orion. As with Melissa before, they used their healing chants and medicine in an attempt to purge the infection. Despite their combined efforts, the best they could manage was to restore a measure of consciousness.
Orion slowly leaned against the table, his breath shallow and labored. “Thank you, friends,” he whispered. “But I fear you’ve only healed me enough for the Church to kill me properly.”
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“Serves you right,” Douglas sneered as he passed, smug with satisfaction.
Orion looked up, meeting his eyes. “All sins must be paid for.”
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Douglas’s smile faded. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Orion to his fate.
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