782: Story 782: A Fractured Grin 782: Story 782: A Fractured Grin The Laughing Plague still lingered in Kruger’s veins.
He could feel it gnawing at the edges of his sanity—a cruel, creeping hysteria that threatened to take hold.
Every breath was a battle to remain in control.
Selene Nocturna stood across from him, the flickering alchemical light casting eerie shadows across her bloodstained face.
Her grin was gone.
Kruger’s counterattack had surprised her.
But surprise wasn’t enough.
The silver smoke swirled, pushing back her necrotic aura, yet she did not retreat.
Instead, she tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she studied him.
“You’re more stubborn than I expected.” Her voice was a mocking whisper, smooth yet crawling with venom.
“But even the strongest minds crack.”
Kruger adjusted his grip on his blade, ignoring the distant echoes of laughter in his head.
He lunged.
Selene moved like a shadow.
She twisted, narrowly avoiding the silvered steel aid at her throat.
With a flick of her wrist, black tendrils erupted from the ground, forcing Kruger to roll back.
He landed hard, gasping, his vision warping as the plague worked its way deeper.
And then—a sound.
Soft.
Familiar.
His own laughter.
It slipped from his throat unbidden, unnatural.
A quiet chuckle at first, then louder, jagged, breaking into fits of breathless wheezing.
His muscles tensed as he clenched his jaw, trying to silence it.
Selene’s grin returned.
“Ahh, there it is.” She glided closer, reveling in his struggle.
“The mont when the mind betrays itself.”
She raised a hand, and the tendrils of necrotic energy tightened around him.
“Why resist?
Just let go.”
Kruger’s body jerked violently, his blade trembling in his grip.
**The laughter burned in his lungs, spreading, twisting.**His vision blurred.
Selene reached for him—pale fingers curling around his throat.
His mind scread to fight back.
But the plague scread louder.
“Let go.”
His grip loosened.
His strength faltered.
And then—a spark.
Not of magic.
Not of power.
Of mory.
A face.
A promise.
A reason to resist.
With a snarl of defiance, Kruger drove his dagger into Selene’s side.
The blade sank deep.
Selene’s laughter shattered into a ragged hiss.
She recoiled, dark ichor spilling over his hands as her hood fell back, revealing the twisted veins pulsing beneath her skin.
Her eyes flashed with fury.
“You—”
Kruger didn’t let her finish.
He kicked her back, forcing distance.
Selene staggered, gripping her wound.
For the first ti, she looked truly enraged.
Kruger wiped blood from his mouth, his laughter silenced.
“I don’t break that easily.”
Selene’s grin returned—but now, it was fractured.
The battle wasn’t over.
It had only just begun.
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