A New World | THE BIG FOUR: Book 2 ✔

PROLOGUE

The night is dead. The sky is black as a jet raven hair, no stars in sight; not even a single one. Nothing. It is utterly silence, even you can hear your own heartbeat flowing together with the endless wind. It is cold, dark, and mysterious. No hint of life, of light... of hope.

Pitch Black stood tall behind the curtains of darkness, staring at the moon, being lured by its beauty and grace. His hands at his back, his grip tighten, his breathing shallows. He smiled, a grin escaped from his lips.

He chuckled.

"Hm." He said. "What was that, Manny?" He cooed and gazed at the still moon, the only light that shown this very night.

"Oh yes," He laughed maniacally as if it will answer his question, his doubts. Pitch stilled a last look at the moon, his lips in a straight line, he turned his back away without hearing anything, without anything stopping him, without any second thoughts.

"Yes." He whispered, shadows covered half of his pale face. The end of his lips curved,

"Yes." He breathed.

"Victory is mine."

****

The dark walls of the cavern covered him, serving as his lair. His secret. He stood alone at the center, as if waiting for someone; finally, someone to accompany him. Pitch's gaze landed unto a small dark globe in front of him, with thousands of lights- no, million of ones. His patience had been in a long run. He gritted his teeth and waited...

Waited.

Waited.

"I thought you'll never come back." Pitch's voice is cold.

"I am not a person who breaks promises."

The voice answered with a feminine and fresh set of tone. She was watching Pitch from behind. She wore a long dark red renaissance clothing, her raven hair in curls, her lips in a curve. A mischievous smile.

"Ah." Pitch moaned with satisfaction in his voice, like a smile creeps within those lips of his.

"Gothel."

"Hello," Gothel welcomed as they've come finally face-to-face. "Pitch Black."

Pitch and Gothel; both of them stood together side by side, watching someone, watching them in their slumber. Four bodies trampling inside those cages hanging from the ceiling. Eyes closed, lips still; like cursed in a sleeping potion.

"They've been feeding on lies and nightmares as much as I can remember." Pitch managed to say. His eyes are sharp. He needed plan. No. He has a plan.

He already has.

He always had.

"What will you do now?" Gothel asked. Not meeting his eyes.

"Oh," He mumbled. "You do know."

Silence filled the gaps between them. They watched them changed expressions... emotions. They are silent, million of thoughts going on their minds.

"After giving what they deserve; after making their memories terrifying as ever..." He trailed and shot a look at her. Their eyes finally met. Grey to black. Darkness to darkness.

"Then, we'll put them to place where magic does not exist." Pitch smiled.

Ah.

Yes.

Finally.

"They'll forget who they used to be. Their powers... the power to heal the injured, the weak and the sick will vanish. The power to control snow and winter will disappear," A wide grin escaped from his lips. "And also their abilities. The ability of an archer, to manipulate bow and arrow. The ability to tame a dragon, a Viking... All will be forgotten." He explained further.

Pitch isn't called the King of Darkness for no reason; without his tactics, his trickery and vengeance. He is as much you could think he is.

Horror.

"What if they'll remember, someday?" Gothel questioned. She has his trust and Pitch has hers.

"Impossible." Pitch black hissed, his eyes intensified. "Oh Gothel," he lured, his voice changed into something smoother. Something calm.

"I placed their memories to something that will never be unlocked. Letting their past hidden and unseen."

"Something?"

"In a memory box."

Ah. Memory box. A golden storage where fragments of memories- good or bad, memorable or not, had been stored inside. To hide it from someone, to bury the hatchet deep or to finally forget... everything.

Unless, it will be handed to the person who truly owns what is inside then, only then; it will be unlatched.

She flinched. Unexpectedly, the hissing sound like a snake's ringed through her ears. Gothel looked through the unending walls but Pitch remained still. Very still. Her eyes landed unto a colorful whirling tendrils of magic behind her, behind them.

"Now is the right time, Gothel." His voice sends shiver to her spine. It was cold, terrifying... deadly.

Finally, Pitch turned around and gazed through it. A portal. A portal which serves as a pathway to another world, to another realm. One small move you'll end up at the other side of the universe.

The portal shone through their skin, shifting from white, to pink, to red, to green to blue. Like a whirlpool, it can swiftly pull you inside the depths of magic... and science.

Pitch stiffened, drowning to its color, to its power... to its possibilities. He crooked a grin, his eyes like hawk's, his hands moved, his breathing fastens.

"They will forget who they really are. Powerless and clueless. They are separated from us and they'd be living in a..." He breathed and whispered.

"New world."