Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I'm Stuck as Their Baby!-Chapter 186: Villain ?

Running wasn't dignified, but dignity had become a luxury somewhere between Velka's shadows tightening around my wrist and Elyzara's voice, cold and unfamiliar, commanding me to confess. I'd spent years perfecting my composure, but now the best I could manage was not tripping over my own feet as I darted down the moonlit halls of Arcanum.

The walls seemed to close around me each torch guttering with suspicion, each portrait of former headmasters scowling down as if personally offended by my existence. Shadows rippled at the edge of my vision, threatening to resolve into Velka's hands, Mara's fists, or worse: Elyzara's disappointment.

Of course, disappointment was a feeble thing compared to actual pursuit. By now, the cafeteria would be chaos. Someone would raise an alarm. Velka would want blood. Mara would want answers delivered with a punch. Riven would want her cheese back, and Elira would want to carve me into slices with those elegant, terrifying swords.

But none of that could compare to the gnawing pit in my own chest the cold certainty that I'd crossed a line I could never uncross.

I ducked beneath a tapestry depicting Arcanum's founding (all glowing swords and suspiciously muscular wizards), and dropped into a side corridor lined with supply closets and mildew. My heart hammered so loudly it seemed to shake the dust from the rafters.

I paused, just for a second, and allowed myself to breathe. That was the first mistake.

My mind, always treacherously agile, began to replay the scene: Velka's glare, Elyzara's hurt, Mara's fists clenching in outrage. I'd chosen my path chosen it with eyes open but in that split second, facing them, I'd almost wanted to apologize. Almost. But power was never built on apologies, and I was tired of being underestimated, tired of hiding behind someone else's idea of "good."

"Breathe, Aria," I whispered to myself, voice trembling. "You're not the villain here. You're the only one who understands what's coming."

The only answer was the distant clatter of boots on stone. I pressed my back to the wall, pulse racing, and considered my next move. If Velka and the others were as angry as I knew they'd be, every secret passage, every hidden stairway I'd mapped would become a liability. They'd think like me, now. They'd start looking for me where I'd once hidden for fun.

The irony was almost funny.

"You could always surrender," a voice in my mind suggested a vestige of my own conscience, dry and unimpressed.

"No, thank you," I muttered. "I've seen Velka's version of mercy."

I needed to leave Arcanum. That much was obvious. But the school was a fortress, every exit laced with wards, every hall monitored by suspiciously nosy paintings. I'd need a distraction. Something big. Something ridiculous.

As if in answer, a crash sounded from the floor above a chorus of magical alarms, shrieking like drunken banshees. I winced. It seemed the castle had decided to provide distractions of its own.

"Perfect," I murmured, setting off at a brisk pace. "Never let it be said that Aria Nightshade didn't appreciate good timing."

I skirted a group of panicked first-years, ducked behind a suit of armor that had seen better centuries, and slipped into the abandoned conservatory a glass-walled room overrun by moonflowers and ill-tempered nightshades. The air smelled of sap and secrets. Somewhere in the shadows, a carnivorous plant yawned, its teeth glinting softly.

I made a mental note not to trip.

There was a mirror at the far end ancient, cracked, and framed by climbing vines. It was one of my secret ways out, but it needed a password. I pressed my palm to the glass, whispered, "Let me vanish," and watched the surface ripple, like water in a storm.

My own reflection stared back: eyes wild, hair disheveled, blood crusted on my sleeve. Not quite the calculating mastermind I'd imagined. I forced a smile, hoping it might settle my nerves, but the reflection just smirked, unimpressed.

"You're not making friends, Aria," I told it.

It winked. I glared. We reached a stalemate.

The mirror shimmered, revealing a narrow passage lit by the sickly green glow of phosphorescent moss. I slipped inside, heart hammering, and let the mirror seal behind me.

The passage twisted and turned, sometimes wide enough to walk comfortably, sometimes so narrow I had to press sideways, scraping my shoulders. I moved quickly, ignoring the way the moss seemed to pulse with my heartbeat.

As I walked, my mind kept looping back to Elyzara's face. She'd looked at me not with anger, but with a kind of stunned sorrow, as if the world had shifted beneath her feet and she was still waiting for someone to set it right. For the briefest moment, I'd almost reached out. Almost explained. Almost confessed everything how I'd been watching her for months, how I'd warned her in a hundred subtle ways, how I'd only locked Velka up because someone worse had demanded it.

But explanations were for people who could afford to be honest. I was running out of honesty. And time.

The passage ended at a spiral stair. I climbed, trying to ignore the ache in my legs and the guilt gnawing my insides. At the top, another mirror waited. This one opened into the old potions lab, abandoned since the "mushroom incident" of two years ago. I stepped out, brushing moss from my cloak, and nearly collided with a very large, very irate cat.

The cat Madame Purrgatory, Arcanum's infamous magical mouser fixed me with golden eyes and hissed.

"Oh, not you too," I sighed. "Don't worry, I'm not here to steal your territory."

The cat slashed at my boots anyway, then stalked off, dignity intact. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

I almost envied her.

I set about gathering supplies an old travel cloak, some dried mushrooms that weren't actively glowing, a vial of "emergency invisibility," and, just for luck, a pocketful of spark-powder. Every step felt mechanical, my mind still replaying the look on Elyzara's face.

I paused, just for a second, and let myself remember. We'd been friends once at least, I'd thought we were. She'd trusted me with secrets, laughed at my jokes, even saved me from expulsion that time with the frogs. And here I was, running from her, from all of them, for a cause I still wasn't sure I believed in.

I almost laughed. Almost. But I couldn't quite remember how.

I shouldered my cloak, took a breath, and cracked the lab's hidden door only to find a pair of goblins playing cards in the corridor.

They looked up, beady eyes narrowing. "Oi, what you doin' 'ere, miss?"

"Renovation inspection," I said smoothly. "I'm afraid you'll have to relocate. Mold hazard."

One of the goblins grinned, showing all twelve yellow teeth. "No mold 'ere, miss. Just cards."

The other leaned closer. "Is it true what they're sayin'? There's a traitor in Arcanum tonight?"

I blinked. For a moment, I considered lying, but something in their tone made me pause.

"Depends who you ask," I replied, as neutrally as possible.

The first goblin nudged the other, grinning. "Told ya. Always a traitor, always a mess."

"Much like this game," I said, stepping around them and into the wider hall.

I moved through the underbelly of the castle past the cold cellars, up the winding servants' stairs, through the kitchens where a night-shift cook was muttering curses at a cauldron that kept trying to escape. Each step took me farther from Elyzara and the others, but no closer to clarity.

What was I really running toward? Freedom? Power? Or just a chance to stop pretending?

I ducked into a forgotten study, closed the door, and allowed myself to collapse into a worn leather chair. For a long moment, I sat in silence, listening to the ticking of an ancient clock and the faint, musical grumble of the castle's pipes.

"Am I the villain now?" I asked the darkness. "Or just the only one willing to do what's necessary?"

The shadows offered no answer. Only the system if I'd had one, and I sometimes wished I did might have snarked back with something clever and cruel.

Instead, I was left with my own doubts, swirling like mist.

I ran a hand through my hair, forced a shaky laugh, and tried to imagine what came next. Should I flee the castle entirely? Find the person no, the thing that had forced me to betray Velka? Or should I turn back, throw myself at Elyzara's mercy, beg for forgiveness I wasn't sure I wanted?

A gentle scratching at the window drew me from my spiral. I peered out and found a raven perched on the sill, a note tied to its leg.

Cautiously, I opened the window. The raven hopped inside, insulted by the draft, and shook its feathers. I untied the note, unrolling it with trembling fingers.

Meet me in the tower at midnight. No tricks, Aria. Bring what you stole. — S

I stared at the signature, dread crawling up my spine. S. There was only one person at Arcanum who signed their threats with a single letter, and she was far more terrifying than Velka on a good day.

"Perfect," I sighed. "Just what I needed."

I watched the raven hop onto a chair and begin to clean its wings, untroubled by the threat of imminent violence. I wondered if I should try to bribe it for moral support, but doubted it would work. Ravens, like power, never came cheap.

I slumped in the chair, rubbing my forehead. "Well, Aria. You wanted to change the world. Maybe next time, try starting with something easier. Like cleaning your room."

Midnight was hours away, but I knew sleep would never come. I'd have to face S face my own choices before the sun rose again. For the first time in years, I wished someone would tell me what to do.

But no one would. Not anymore.

And so, in the flickering shadows of the forgotten study, I planned my next move. Because if I was going to be a villain, I'd at least be an interesting one.