Warlock of Oceans: My Poseidon System

Sylus raised an eyebrow. "I think the Pillar of Wisdom is the most powerful, given that you and Decay have had to team up to keep them in check before." Jesua's irritation deepened, her tone sharp. "Stop calling us 'Pillars.' We're not pillars. Never were. We're Warlocks. The Warlock of Decay. The Warlock of Trickery. And the Warlock of Wisdom." At those words, Cyrus froze, his blood running cold. That name—it was painfully familiar. His heart raced as memories surfaced, lessons from his world's history classes. The Warlock of Wisdom, better known as revenge incarnate. A name spoken in hushed tones, a legend of a force that had brought ruin to civilizations. "That's... impossible," Cyrus muttered under his breath, his unease deepening. Jesua smirked, clearly enjoying the effect her words had. "Oh, it's very possible, little man. And if Wisdom's coming back, well..." Her grin widened. "You'd better hold on tight." The room fell silent, the tension thick as the woman in the mirror began to shift forward. At first, it seemed impossible—she was bound by the glass, her image no more than a reflection. But the shimmering surface of the mirror rippled like water, her figure distorting as she stepped toward them. "Wait—" Athena started, but the words caught in her throat as the woman effortlessly slid out of the mirror. Her bare feet touched the floor, and the air around her seemed to grow heavier, darker. Sylus was the first to react, his hand darting to the sword sheathed at his waist. With a metallic hiss, the blade emerged, its surface gleaming with faint, sacred runes. "Stay back," he growled. Cyrus conjured an aetheric blade, its edge glowing with a cold, pulsating light. The energy hummed in his hand as he stepped to Sylus's side, his eyes narrowing. Beside them, Athena raised her hands, faint glyphs forming in the air as she prepared to unleash a spell at the first sign of hostility. Jesua, now fully out of the mirror, stood before them with an almost playful expression. She gave an exaggerated stretch, her arms reaching high above her head, and then rolled her neck to one side. But in that instant—when her head tilted and her neck cracked—the air around her shattered like glass. Her form blurred, distorting into something utterly incomprehensible. Her body stretched unnaturally, her limbs bending at impossible angles, as if breaking free from the confines of human anatomy. Eyes, countless and shifting, blinked into existence along her arms, legs, and torso, staring into the souls of those in the room. Her "face" dissolved into a swirling void of teeth and shadow, her presence radiating an ancient, mind-rending chaos. It was a form that defied logic, a glimpse into the true essence of the Warlock of Trickery—a being that could scarcely be contained within the mortal world. But just as quickly as it had appeared, the eldritch horror receded, collapsing inward. Her human shape snapped back into place, as though the entity they had just seen was no more than a fleeting hallucination. Jesua now stood before them in her original guise, her sly, tomboyish grin intact, as if nothing had happened. "Ahh, much better," she said, her voice casual as ever. She smoothed out her shirt, her hands running over nonexistent creases. "Man, that mirror was cramped. You try being stuck in one of those for centuries and see how you feel." Sylus's grip on his sword tightened, his knuckles white. He and Cyrus shared a glance, and while neither spoke, the mutual understanding was clear: they had just witnessed something far beyond their comprehension. Jesua, unfazed, seemed to take stock of her surroundings. Her blue eyes darted to each of them, her slick smile never faltering. "Relax, boys. I'm not here to hurt you. If I wanted to, well... you'd already know, wouldn't you?" Athena swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "You... what are you?" Jesua tilted her head, her grin widening. "Me? Oh, sweetheart, I'm just your friendly neighborhood Warlock of Trickery. And you," she added, pointing to Cyrus with a knowing wink, "look like someone who knows exactly what that means." Cyrus stared at her, his blade still at the ready. She wasn't much taller than him—maybe an inch or two—but the weight of her presence made her feel colossal. Even now, in her human-like form, there was an underlying sense of chaos, a storm barely contained beneath her skin. Her voice was light, playful even, but every word carried an edge, a subtle threat masked as charm. "You're not going anywhere," Sylus said firmly, his sword pointed directly at her. Jesua chuckled, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Oh, calm down, hero. I'm not about to rip apart your little temple city. Yet." She gave a toothy smile, her tone dripping with amusement. "You've got questions, I'm sure. Lucky for you, I'm in a talking mood. So, let's chat." The tension in the room was thick as the three of them faced Jesua, who leaned casually against the shattered mirror, looking far too comfortable given the circumstances. Sylus paced near the window, boots softly clicking against the wooden floor, while Cyrus leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his aetheric sword faintly glowing. Athena remained perched on the edge of the bed, her gaze darting between Jesua and the others, her brow furrowed in thought. "You know," Jesua began with a sly grin, "it's kind of rude to glare at someone who's just crawled out of a prison. Not exactly the warmest welcome." Sylus paused mid-step, turning to face her with a sharp look. "Why were you in there? What did you do to deserve being locked away?" Jesua tilted her head, that grin widening. "Straight to the point. I like that. Let's just say... some people don't appreciate ingenuity. Or maybe they were scared. Take your pick." Cyrus stepped away from the wall, his blade humming faintly as he approached her. "So, someone was scared enough of you to trap you in a cursed mirror. Who?" She turned her sharp gaze on him, her smile playful. "Oh, darling, the list is long. Does it matter, though? I'm here now, aren't I?" Athena, still seated, leaned forward slightly. "But why now? Why not a hundred years ago or even yesterday? You said you were waiting for the 'right pieces.' What does that mean?" Jesua shrugged nonchalantly, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeve. "Timing is everything. You don't just break out of a mirror without a plan. And lucky for me, the stars finally aligned—or rather, you aligned." Sylus crossed his arms, his tone turning cold. "And what's your plan now? To cause chaos? Rebuild whatever throne you had?" Jesua tapped her chin, pretending to think. "Hmm... maybe. Or maybe I just want a nice glass of wine and a comfortable bed. You mortals do love your dramatic assumptions." Cyrus narrowed his eyes as he took another step closer, his weapon still drawn. "Enough games. No one escapes a prison like that without an agenda. What's really going on?" Jesua's grin faltered for just a second, a dark flicker crossing her eyes. She leaned back against the wall with a faint sigh. "Fine, fine. If you insist on the truth: the world isn't as stable as it looks. You've noticed, haven't you? Decay's back." Sylus stopped pacing entirely, his expression darkening. "You know about Decay?" She rolled her eyes. "Of course I know. Do you think I've been sitting in that mirror twiddling my thumbs? If Decay's loose, the rest of us won't be far behind." Athena rose to her feet, alarm flashing across her face. "The rest of you? You mean... the other Pillars?" Jesua let out a sharp laugh, the sound almost mocking. "Pillars? Is that what they're calling us these days? No, sweetheart. Warlocks. Warlock of Decay, Warlock of Trickery—that's me—and Warlock of Wisdom." Sylus's gaze hardened as he studied her. "And what's your connection to Decay? Are you working with them?" Jesua's grin returned, razor-sharp and dripping with mischief. "Working with them? Oh no. Decay and I aren't exactly on speaking terms. But I'll admit, their return makes things... interesting." Cyrus frowned, his voice quiet but firm. "You keep calling yourselves Warlocks instead of Pillars. Why?" Jesua's smile widened as she pushed off the wall, sauntering across the room with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. "Pillars sounds so noble, doesn't it? Like we're holding the world together. But Warlocks? That's what we really are—power, chaos, rebellion. Doesn't that sound more honest?" Sylus resumed pacing, his movements tense. "Honest or not, if Decay's back, Wisdom won't be far behind." Jesua stopped in her tracks, her expression briefly darkening. "Wisdom..." The name lingered in the air, heavy and foreboding. For a moment, her playful demeanor cracked, revealing something ancient and cold. Sylus didn't let the moment pass. "If Decay is dangerous, Wisdom is worse. You and Decay have had to team up before, haven't you? To suppress Wisdom." Jesua let out another sharp laugh, breaking the tension. "Suppress? Oh, don't make it sound like we were scared! Wisdom has their tricks, sure, but don't forget who you're talking to." Athena hesitated, her brow furrowing as she spoke carefully. "Wait... so the Warlocks are real? I thought they were just myths." Jesua smirked. "Oh, we're very real, darling. And if you think Decay's return is bad news, you've got no idea what's coming next." Cyrus's expression darkened further, his voice barely above a whisper. "The Warlock of Wisdom... revenge incarnate." Jesua's sharp gaze snapped to him, her grin growing wider. "Oh, someone's been paying attention. Tell me, scholar, what do they say about Wisdom in your world?" Cyrus's words were heavy with memory. "Entire civilizations fell to their wrath." Jesua's laughter filled the room, sharp and unrelenting. "Good. At least someone did their homework."