Chapter 347: The Reawakening

Third-person POV

The light came out of nowhere.

One second, the crowd was screaming for blood, and the next, a wave of gold cut through the air so bright that everyone had to shield their eyes, and the execution ground went silent for the first time since dawn.

From the balcony above, Iris froze. She didn’t need to ask what was happening. She knew. That light wasn’t ordinary, it carried heat that pulsed, alive and familiar, and her heart dropped.

“Oh no…” she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible.

Her fingers trembled as she gripped the railing, her left arm still weak and half numb. The antidote Jella had given was still not enough, and unfortunately, she was still far from full strength, so if that light was what she thought it was…

Electra was breaking free.

She didn’t have time to think twice. She turned toward Jella, who was still watching the scene with a puzzled expression, clearly not understanding the danger.

“Jella,” Iris said sharply, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get up and run.”

Jella turned to her, frowning. “Run? What are you talking about?”

“I mean it,” Iris snapped. “You need to get out of here now.”

Jella scoffed. “Why on earth would I leave? We’re about to execute the bitch I’ve been dying to get rid of for twenty years, and you want me to stop? You sound insane.”

Iris’s patience was wearing thin. “You don’t understand what’s about to happen.”

Jella gave a short and mocking laugh. “It’s a light show, Iris. She’s just trying to scare everyone before she dies. I’m sure it’s no big deal.”

Iris stared at her for a long second before shaking her head. “You really don’t know anything, do you?” she muttered. Her tone was low and bitter. “You think you’re in control, but you’re not. Not anymore.”

Jella’s smile faltered. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying those cuffs won’t hold her anymore,” Iris said. “And when they break, depending on how angry she is, she’s going to burn through this place until there’s nothing left.”

Jella’s eyes narrowed. “And how exactly would you know that for sure?”

Iris’s lips twitched, not in amusement but in something that looked close to anger. “Because I’m one of her kind, you foolish woman. I know her better than you ever would,” she said simply.

Jella rolled her eyes. “You can’t…”

“Save your breath,” Iris cut her off, already turning away. She was tired, and the heat from the light was growing stronger by the second. “You’ve already lost control of this. You can stand here and die with the rest of them if you want, but I’m leaving.”

Jella’s voice rose behind her. “Don’t you dare walk away from me, you ungrateful…”

But Iris didn’t stop. She didn’t even look back. “If you stay here,” she said flatly, “you’re going to regret it.”

Her footsteps echoed as she walked down, clutching her arm as she went. Her breathing was uneven, but she kept moving, ignoring the faint tremor in her body. She’d had enough of Jella’s arrogance, and she’d seen enough in her life to know exactly what came next.

Back on the balcony, Jella stood frozen, staring down at the platform below. Her anger was fading fast, replaced by something she hadn’t felt in years, fear.

The light wasn’t fading like she was hoping it would, and instead, it was spreading.

Her pulse quickened.

“No,” she whispered. “That’s not possible.”

The glow was seeping into everything, the platform, the air, and the faces of the stunned guards who had stopped moving. The temperature was climbing fast, and people in the crowd were beginning to panic again, pushing each other to get away.

“Proceed!” Jella suddenly yelled, desperate to regain control. “Finish it now!”

Her voice echoed across the space, but her words sounded shaky even to her own ears.

The executioner hesitated for only a second before raising his blade again.

“Do it!” Jella screamed.

The crowd’s noise swelled again, phones lifting back into the air. For a split second, it almost looked like things were returning to normal, but then everything went wrong.

The light erupted in full force, and the ground trembled under their feet. The executioner’s blade, mid-swing, turned molten red before shattering in his hands, the guards closest to Electra stumbled back, their armor smoking from the sudden heat, and then the cuffs broke.

Jella gasped as she saw it, metal splitting apart like it was paper, glowing white-hot before disintegrating into dust.

Electra’s head, which had been bowed all this time like she had suddenly passed out, lifted slowly. Her hair was glowing, and her eyes snapped open, no longer their usual blue but amber irises that caught the light.

Every sound in the courtyard vanished, and even the crowd stopped breathing.

Meanwhile, the first thing Electra noticed when she opened her eyes was the light.

It was harsh, almost blinding, pouring over her face from every direction. She blinked slowly, trying to adjust, her body stiff as if she hadn’t moved in a long time. Her feet felt cold against the wooden surface she stood on, and when she finally lifted her head, she realized there were people, hundreds of them, surrounding her.

They were silent at first, just staring.

Men, women, guards, and nobles—all crowded around, their faces tight with confusion and something close to fear. Electra looked at them quietly, her expression blank. She didn’t move and didn’t ask why they were looking at her that way. She simply watched.

Her head was empty.

No names came to mind, no memories. Nothing.

She didn’t know who she was or where she was.

Her eyes swept over the crowd again, scanning the unfamiliar faces. They flinched when her gaze met theirs. Some whispered, others stared openly, as though afraid to blink. The energy in the air felt strange, tense, and heavy, but none of it stirred anything inside her.

She just stood there, still, her hands hanging loosely by her sides.

Then, from above, a voice echoed across the courtyard.

“Kill her now!”

The sound broke through the murmuring crowd.

Electra’s eyes followed the direction of the voice until they landed on a woman standing on a high balcony. The woman’s clothes were royal, her face set in a scowl that didn’t waver.

Electra stared back at her, expression flat, almost curious.

It took her a second to realize what the woman had said and to understand that the “her” was supposed to mean her.

The crowd shifted again, and one of the soldiers standing near the front stepped forward. He was trembling slightly as he raised something in his hands, a gun, though Electra didn’t know what it was called.

He pointed it straight at her head.

The people around him stepped back, and the air seemed to thicken, waiting.

Electra didn’t move. She only tilted her head slightly, watching him with a kind of quiet interest, as though she were watching an animal she didn’t quite recognize.

The soldier’s finger twitched on the trigger, and then something inside her reacted. Before she could think, before she even understood what was happening, her hand rose, and the air around her hand shimmered faintly, a glow appearing across her skin. The gun began to heat, the metal warping under invisible pressure, and within seconds, it turned molten red.

The soldier cried out and threw it down, shaking his hand in pain. The weapon clattered to the ground, half-melted, smoke curling up from it.

A quiet gasp spread through the crowd.

Still, Electra didn’t flinch.

She looked down at her hand, watching the faint light flicker across her fingers before fading. Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying her palm as though it belonged to someone else.

The whispers around her grew louder and more frantic, and Electra lifted her gaze slowly, scanning the faces again. She didn’t understand the words, but the tone told her enough. They were afraid.

She didn’t feel fear herself, only confusion. Her heart was steady, and her breathing was calm. None of it made sense, but she didn’t feel the need to panic.

Her attention went back to the woman on the balcony.

“Kill her!” the woman shouted again, her voice shaking this time.

Electra blinked once. Then she spoke, her voice quiet but loud enough.

“Who are you,” she asked, “and what makes you think you can kill me?”

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