Chapter 130: Alexi’s Distraught!

The group returned to the Demon Capital in silence. The skies above the obsidian spires churned with slow-moving clouds of ember-red mana, massive sigils rotating far above the city as reality settled back into place from Jax’s teleportation.

The moment space unsealed, demonic sentries dropped to one knee across the capital’s upper districts, sensing his return before they ever saw him.

Jax stepped forward first, Alexi slung over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. She was unconscious, her own blood completely dried against her temple and her lips. Her breathing was shallow but steady, her mana pathways were in complete disarray.

The backlash from having her spell forcibly terminated had left her hollowed out, her consciousness drifting in and out, flashes of memory bleeding into one another without order. Every time she stirred, the pressure of demonic authority pressed her back down into helplessness.

Hydra also landed behind Jax with a thunderous impact, her emerald scales shedding toxic motes of mana that was absorbed by Jax’s aura shield around her as the Dragoness transformed back into her human form.

Natasha followed last, walking calmly, her expression unreadable as she looked out over the city she now returned to not as a prisoner, but as one of its own, who helped the Demon King achieve his goal.

“Take her, lock her in the dungeon until further notice, ” Jax finally said.

From the shadows, demon wardens emerged, tall, horned figures clad in rune-etched armor, their eyes glowing with obedient awareness. They did not touch Alexi roughly, but neither were they gentle. To them, she was neither enemy nor guest.

She was property under judgment, sent to the Dungeon deep under the cathedral.

Eventually, after a couple of hours, Alexi woke up in darkness screaming.

Cold stone pressed against her back. Her wrists were bound, not painfully, but completely, mana-suppressing cuffs etched with ancient demonic runes that drank in every attempt she made to summon power.

The air smelled faintly of iron and incense, old and heavy, layered with the oppressive weight of enchantments that had been reinforced over centuries.

The sound tore from her throat raw and unrestrained, echoing uselessly down corridors that swallowed it whole. She thrashed against the restraints, panic surging as she tried to draw even a spark of mana—only to feel it vanish the moment it formed.

“No… no, no, no—!”

Her breathing spiraled. Her chest burned. Every thought slammed into the next without pause as she remembered what happened all at once.

Killian.

Touka.

Lizzy.

Alicia.

Natasha.

Her vision blurred as tears finally came, hot and uncontrollable. The image of Natasha standing beside Jax, arms around him, calm, choosing him, replayed over and over until it felt like a knife being twisted deeper with every repetition.

Her head snapped up as she heard footsteps approaching, and she eventually froze, her heart pounding in her chest violently as every muscle in her body locked as the soft sound of boots against stone reached her ears, a strange coldness swarming her.

A torch ignited.

Natasha stood just outside the sigil-etched threshold, crimson light tracing the tattoos along her arms and collarbone. Her armor was gone now, replaced with simple dark clothing, but the aura she carried was unmistakable, stable, aligned, empowered.

Alexi stared at her in disbelief, as if she was seeing a ghost.

“…Why?” she whispered, that single word carrying all of her emotions, betrayal, confusion, grief & denial.

“…WHYYYY?” her voice cracked as she screamed out, “Why would you do this? Why are you standing with him? We trained together. We bled together. We gave up everything together!”

Natasha didn’t answer immediately. She stepped inside, the runes parting for her without resistance, and crouched in front of Alexi, resting her forearms on her knees.

“You’re asking the wrong question,” Natasha said quietly.

Alexi laughed weakly, hysterical and broken, “No. No, I’m really not. You betrayed us. You sided with him. With the one who destroyed everything we were fighting for. You said you wanted to go home,”

“I did,” Natasha said, “Back then.”

Alexi laughed weakly, hysterically, “So what changed? Power? Fear? He broke you and rewired you?”

She surged forward instinctively, chains rattling uselessly. “He’s a monster, Natasha! He’s using you!”

Natasha’s eyes sharpened, not in anger, but in something firmer, “No,” she said, “He didn’t force me. He didn’t twist my mind. He didn’t lie.”

“I didn’t betray you,” she said. “I stopped lying to myself.”

Alexi shook her head violently, “He broke you. He twisted you. You think you chose this, but—”

“But what?” Natasha interrupted gently. “But I was supposed to keep suffering because it made you feel righteous?”

The words landed like a blow.

Alexi went silent.

“I was summoned to a world that didn’t care if I lived or died,” Natasha continued. “Given power I didn’t ask for. Ordered to kill people I didn’t know for gods who saw us as tools. And every time I hesitated, every time I questioned it, I was told it was necessary.”

She leaned closer.

“Jax never lied to me.”

Alexi swallowed hard. “He enslaved you.”

Natasha smiled faintly. “No. He gave me choice.”

Her hand lifted, fingers brushing the glowing tattoos along her arm. “Power without hypocrisy. Loyalty without pretending it’s virtue. Strength without calling it justice.”

Alexi’s eyes filled again. “We could have fixed things. Together.”

Natasha stood.

“You still think this is about fixing the world,” she said softly. “That’s why you’re here.”

She turned toward the door, then paused.

“You’ll understand in due time.”

The torch extinguished.

Darkness reclaimed the cell.

Alexi curled in on herself as the silence returned, the weight of the dungeon pressing in from every direction. Her sobs came quietly now, exhausted and hollow, as the reality finally settled in.

She was alone.

Elsewhere in the capital, Jax stood within the high command spire, gazing out over the vast demonic city as reports streamed in through floating glyphs. Hydra leaned against a pillar nearby, arms crossed, watching him with an amused glint in her eyes.

“Efficient,” she remarked. “Most of the strike teams exceeded projections.”

Jax nodded, eyes scanning casualty ratios, captured assets, collapsed merchant routes. “Expected. The Foundation was already bleeding.”

“And the others?” Hydra asked.

“Panicking,” Jax replied. “Which means they’ll make mistakes.”

“Can you call Astra over, she led one of the teams and I want to talk to her,” Jax asked, and Hydra nodded, walking off.

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