The Shadow Queen Is Too Alluring—I Can't Handle This Anymore!
Chapter 81 You’re Not Supposed to Remember That

Chapter 81: Chapter 81 You’re Not Supposed to Remember That

Lyra’s eyes shot open—wide, wild, filled with a storm of violet light. Her breath came in short, panicked gasps as if she’d just resurfaced from drowning. Her fingers clenched into the ethereal mist beneath her, digging into nothingness like it might ground her.

"Where... am I?" Her voice cracked. It wasn’t her tone. Not entirely.

From the edge of the shadow-glitched dreamscape, Zero-One staggered toward her, covered in bleeding code and flickering particles. "Lyra! Don’t move. You’re not stabilized!"

But she couldn’t hear him.

She was looking through him.

Straight into the past.

A part of her was aware this wasn’t real—not entirely. Yet everything felt too vivid, too sharp. The memory blooming around her wasn’t one she had ever consciously recalled.

Because it wasn’t her memory.

It belonged to the Shadow Queen—the first host. The original vessel before the corruption.

Lyra’s mind trembled under the weight of it. Emotions she couldn’t name surged in all directions—grief, power-lust, maternal longing... and a betrayal so profound it cleaved through generations.

She wasn’t just a vessel.

She was the key.

And now, the lock was breaking.

Images flooded her mind like shards of glass from a shattered mirror:

A bloodstained crown, still warm.

A child with glowing golden eyes, whispering promises in the dark.

A sword made of pure shadow, impaled not into enemies... but into herself.

Every flash cut her deeper than the last.

Like a melody played backward, her soul hummed in reversal—undoing who she thought she was with each passing second.

Behind her, the corrupted child whispered with two voices at once—his and hers.

"Now you remember. So tell me, Queen...Who are you going to betray next?"

And as Lyra turned around, the last thing she saw was her own reflection.

Smiling back with golden eyes.

Lyra staggered backward as her own reflection stepped forward from the abyssal mirror—no longer bound by glass but walking free, heels clicking against the void like war drums.

The second Lyra—no, the original Shadow Queen—smirked with lips painted in darkness."You really thought you could live a normal life?" she purred, circling the real Lyra like a predator studying a trembling deer. "Darling, you were bred to rule nightmares."

Lyra’s fists clenched. "You’re not me."

"Yet here I am." The Queen tapped her temple. "Living in your thoughts. Whispering in your spine. Screaming in your dreams."

Lyra wanted to run, to close her eyes and deny this echo of herself. But how do you escape your own bloodline? Her breath hitched—because deep down, she felt it.

The Queen wasn’t wrong.

The hunger she felt in battle. The thrill when power surged in her veins. The chill of seeing enemies kneel... It wasn’t foreign. It was familiar. Too familiar.

"I’ve tried to be good," Lyra muttered. "I’ve tried to protect."

The Queen chuckled. "Sweet girl, you protected everyone but yourself."

Around them, memories swirled like black feathers in a hurricane—scenes of violence and velvet, throne rooms bathed in moonlight, bloodied hands reaching for coronation.

The Queen stepped closer. Her body shimmered like shadow wearing silk, her voice a lullaby laced with venom."You were born a sword," she whispered, leaning in close. "Why insist on being a shield?"

A cold tear slid down Lyra’s cheek.

Suddenly—

BANG!

The dreamworld cracked as Zero-One’s hand broke through the void, grabbing Lyra by the wrist. "I found you! Hold on!"

But behind her, the Shadow Queen grinned, unbothered."I’m not going anywhere," she cooed.

And as Lyra was yanked out of the memory-space, she felt it—

The Queen was no longer trapped.

She was awake.

Lyra’s eyes snapped open. This time, for real.Her body jolted upright from the dark crystal bed in the Shadow Keep. Sweat soaked her skin, hair clinging to her temples. She clutched her chest, heart hammering like a war drum.

"You’re awake—finally."Zero-One exhaled in visible relief, but his brows stayed knitted. "You’ve been out for hours. Your shadow—" He paused. "It moved on its own."

Lyra’s gaze dropped.

And froze.

Her shadow... was smirking.

Panic surged like a poisoned tide.

She wasn’t alone in her body anymore.

The Shadow Queen had left the dream. Not fully, not physically, but she was there—like a parasite humming in her bloodstream, like a second heartbeat under her own.

Every thought now echoed with whispers. Every blink layered with memories that weren’t hers but felt achingly natural.

How do you fight a voice that speaks your desires better than you ever dared admit?

Her mind felt like a castle under siege—from the inside.

The halls of her thoughts were splintering, walls papered with old blood oaths, and thrones she never sat on demanded her name.

"I can help," the inner voice purred. "Let me lead. Just once. Let me burn them for you."

It was like holding a sword with no hilt—she could use the power, but the cost would slice her palms open.

Suddenly, alarms blared throughout the Shadow Keep.

"Something breached the seal," Zero-One snapped, weapons manifesting around him. "It’s massive. It’s ancient—"

He didn’t need to finish.

Because Lyra already knew.

It wasn’t the enemy who had arrived.

It was the old blood answering her call.

And in the depths of her soul, the Queen’s voice laughed.

"Didn’t I say... you were born to rule?"

Lyra staggered to her feet, breath shallow, pupils dilated. The polished obsidian floors beneath her boots shimmered with the reflection of ancient runes that weren’t there before—until now. Her hands trembled, not from fear, but from the raw, humming force surging through her veins.

Behind her, Zero-One’s dual blades were drawn. "They’re coming," he said, voice tight with awe and dread. "The Forgotten Lords of the Shadow Court."

Outside, the skies cracked open like glass. Streaks of violet and obsidian lightning danced as ethereal gates tore through space above the Shadow Keep.

"They’re not just coming," Lyra whispered. Her lips curled into something dangerously close to a smile. "They’re answering me."

was destined for more than flesh and breath.Now she felt it.

The Queen wasn’t a memory or curse anymore.She was a mirror—reflecting the truth Lyra could no longer deny.

This wasn’t power borrowed.

It was power remembered.

And with it came a throne carved in bone and loyalty written in centuries-old shadows.

But it also came with a price—a war that could never be undone.

The castle trembled beneath her like a sleeping dragon just beginning to stir. Every hallway, every banner, every dormant shadow in the keep responded to her presence as if they had simply been waiting to breathe again.

Lyra’s soul stretched like an ancient tapestry being unfurled in reverse—revealing patterns she never wove, names she never knew she carried, and sins she never committed but now bore like scars across her spirit.

"This is my inheritance," she thought. "A bloodline that eats worlds and sings lullabies in screams."

A heavy thud echoed through the keep’s blackened courtyard.

From the shattered gate emerged a towering figure clad in rusted armor, his eyes glowing like dying stars. Black vines curled around his gauntlets, pulsing with every beat of Lyra’s heart.

He dropped to one knee.

"Your Majesty," he growled, voice like gravel being ground beneath the weight of eternity. "I am Lord Varnok, Executioner of the Third Era. The blood recognizes the crown."

One by one, the air shimmered—dozens of armored figures began appearing around him, kneeling, waiting.

Waiting for commands.

"They kneel now. Will you keep their loyalty?""I never asked for this.""Neither did I, once. And yet we both became Queens."

Lyra clenched her fists, torn between dread and divine thrill. The Queen’s voice echoed in her skull like the toll of a war bell.

What if she accepted it?What if this was the only way to protect everything she’d tried to save?

A surge of light—no, searing purity—pierced the courtyard like a dagger.

A knight in blinding gold dropped from the rift above, crashing down in front of Varnok with holy flames erupting around him. The sigil of the Radiant Order pulsed on his armor.

"By the will of the Light, I strike thee down, False Queen!"

Before Lyra could react, the golden knight lunged, sword crackling with celestial wrath. Time slowed. The ancient soldiers reached for weapons—but it was Lyra who moved first.

Her hand rose.

And shadows answered.

They didn’t crawl.

They pounced.

Black tendrils burst from the ground, coiling around the knight mid-air, slamming him into the earth with thunderous force.

The Queen’s voice laughed.But it was Lyra’s eyes that glowed.