Indigo's Owl [Indigo Rewrite]

Chapter 11 - A Line Once Crossed

With untethered Black, Athira reached for Reader's mindscape.

It was dangerous — stupid, even — to use her Colour without keeping it directly linked to her body. It was too easy to slip and drown in it when Rathe clawed at her thoughts — but for the first time in years, he was absent. The Colour was hers and hers alone, and after how close she'd come to disaster, she was done wasting time with games.

Every nerve was alight and screaming as she located the link between Reader's mind and body. Her Colour always hurt to use, but this... this was past her limits. It burned, like the Black that flooded her system wasn't Colour but wildfire, incinerating every last inch of her until she was nothing more than a charred, empty husk.

Athira tightened her grip on Reader's hair to steady herself.

A charred husk maybe, but not empty. Not yet. Not when there was still that one, last piece of her left that refused to burn.

With a breath, Athira pushed deeper, her Black snaking its way down the link to Reader's mindscape until finally, she found it.

His mind rippled with a quiet, eerie hum that followed no tune. It was an iridescent maze of violet that had long since shattered, fractured, and warped back on itself into a controlled, careful kind of madness. The whole thing was razor sharp and had little respect for the concept of up and down.

"I'm waiting, Athira," said Reader, his violet gaze locked on hers. "Really, whenever you're ready." The words echoed through his mind, chased by a thought that ricocheted off the gleaming walls of the maze. Perhaps I was wrong. The thought bounced away, leaving behind a glimmering trail. Such potential wasted by a tragic lack of will.

A smirk curved its way onto Athira's mouth as her feet drifted off the ground, her hand pulling back Reader's head until his throat was bared to her snarl. "I lack nothing."

The Black flooded into Reader's mindscape.

Her Colour devoured the gleaming trail, chasing down the thought and swamping it, tearing it apart to search the disappointment, the doubt, the fixation that had birthed it. Suspicion flared through Reader's mindscape, paired with something else — something that Athira could only describe as panic as his eyes went wide and the maze of his mindscape pulled shut.

Athira laughed, sighed, and sent even more Black to besiege the iridescent fortress.

The Black pushed into the cracks of the now interlocking walls, forcing them apart. Pieces bent. Others snapped. She hardly cared which, because either way, she'd rip his mindscape apart until she had what she needed.

Reader fought her — or at least, he was trying. Flickers of Purple jolted through his mindscape, immediately consumed by the Black. He twisted and reared against the tendrils that bound his body. His mindscape continued to retreat. The walls pulled tighter, the hum grew louder and more discordant, but there was nothing he could do to stop the inevitable.

A thought skittered past, trapped by the Black. Shouldn't be capable of this. Shouldn't be possible — but ah, the excitement! The potential! The —

"Yield, Reader," said Athira, tilting her head to examine him. His breathing was heavier, his eyes were unfocused, like it was taking every scrap of concentration he had to even attempt to resist what she considered a gentle push. "Yield, and I might leave you with enough sanity to still be useful."

"Sanity, you say?" Reader's gaze slid to hers, slow and dazed. "Sanity, sanity, oh to understand the minds of men, to embrace the truths of this world, such a mortal concept must be left behind."