Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 146: A minute silence

Liam didn’t waste time. As the others still marveled at the woman’s transformation, he stepped forward with firm urgency in his voice. "I can see the unbinding worked," he said, his eyes scanning her face, still stunned at how drastically she had changed—but not enough to distract him from what still needed to be done.

The woman turned to him slowly, her newly youthful face soft with understanding. "Yes," she said, her voice now clear—no longer cracked with centuries of decay. "This is what I once looked like... before the curse... before everything was stolen from me."

She ran her hand through her thick, raven-black hair, looking down at her restored form, still in disbelief herself. Her skin was fair and flawless now, her eyes shimmering with that ethereal, ancient kind of beauty that came from bloodlines long forgotten. A queen reborn, no longer a shade.

Even Marcus, ever the skeptic, found his voice. "Damn," he muttered, not even trying to hide the awe. "She’s... beautiful."

The woman turned her head toward him and offered a quiet, bittersweet smile.

"I wasn’t even the fairest of the king’s wives," she said gently. "There were others far more radiant."

There was a pause. A hush fell over the group. Not out of awkwardness—but respect, perhaps. For all that had been lost. For what she once was.

But Liam didn’t let the silence linger.

He stepped forward, his jaw set, voice cutting through the quiet. "Enough," he said. "You said if we freed you... you’d release Eleanor from the spell. So do it."

His words weren’t cruel. They were sharp because they needed to be. Because time mattered. Because Eleanor was still hanging in that invisible field of force, her body limp and silent. Her pain might have been dulled, her wounds sealed, but the tension around her was still palpable.

The woman’s smile faded. She nodded slowly. "Of course," she said, as if she had been expecting the request all along. "A promise is a promise."

She turned toward the direction they had come from—toward Eleanor—and then closed her eyes.

This time, there were no violent tremors. No shaking earth. Just a slow, soft murmur on her lips. A whisper of a language none of them understood. Old words, ancient syllables carried on the breeze that had begun to stir lightly through the courtyard.

The spell didn’t burst or snap like a rope breaking—it dissolved.

A shimmer peeled away from Eleanor like a second skin, then faded into the air in a swirl of gold dust.

Sophia gasped softly, taking a step forward, but Liam held her back gently.

Eleanor’s eyes fluttered open.

And the first thing she saw was her friends.

The woman turned back to Liam, her voice soft but steady. "She’s free."

Liam didn’t say thank you. Not yet. He didn’t move to embrace Eleanor or fall to his knees in relief. His shoulders stayed tight, his sword still in hand. Because it wasn’t over. Not yet.

But he gave the woman a slow nod.

And that, for now, was enough.

As the dust settled and Eleanor slowly rose to her feet, the newly restored queen turned back to the group. Her eyes—no longer clouded or full of malice—carried a strange warmth now, like a fading star learning to shine again. She took a step toward them, her long dark hair swaying gently over her shoulders. There was no smugness in her, no arrogance in her stride, only the weight of many years and many regrets.

"I owe you all more than words can repay," she said. Her voice still had a regal note to it, but the venom had long bled out of it. "You have given me freedom... something I stopped dreaming of long ago."

Liam kept his arms crossed, not yet trusting her entirely, but he gave her a slight nod. She noticed his stance, and her lips curled into the faintest of smiles.

She extended her hands slowly, not toward him but toward Sophia and Sera. "Let me make amends for what I took," she said, her voice quieter now. "I drained from them without mercy, like a starving beast. That was the curse speaking... not the woman I was."

Sera didn’t move, but her expression was neutral. Sophia was still leaning against Liam, visibly tired. Her breathing was shallow but steady.

The queen didn’t wait for permission.

She stepped forward, lifting her hands slowly into the air, fingers spreading like they were trying to grasp invisible silk. A gentle golden light—faint and warm—began to flow from her palms, arching outward and latching onto Sophia and Sera. It wasn’t harsh. It was soft, like sunlight filtered through water. There was no pressure, no pain.

Sera straightened up slightly, her breath quickening as the strength began to return to her limbs. Her eyes sharpened, color rushing back into her cheeks.

Sophia let out a soft gasp. The first full breath she had taken in hours. Her knees buckled for a second, but Liam held her upright. Then her eyes opened wider, and she stood straighter. Her hand clutched Liam’s arm, but this time it was not from weakness—it was from confusion. "I... I feel better," she whispered.

The queen didn’t stop there. She turned next to Von, who was still wincing as he leaned against a pillar. Then Borik, whose burns and bruises hadn’t fully healed. Jason, who had taken more hits in the last hours than he’d ever admit aloud. Even Mariel, still unconscious on the ground where Marcus had gently laid her earlier.

With a whisper and a gesture, she moved her hands in a slow arc.

A glow passed over them—brief, light as mist—and like dew vanishing in the sun, their pain eased, their wounds closed. Bones shifted, skin stitched itself quietly. The air was quiet except for the hum of ancient power at work.

Mariel’s eyes fluttered open.

At once, Liam was there. He knelt beside her and pulled her into a soft embrace, his hand cradling the back of her head as if to make sure she was really awake.

She blinked, her voice faint. "What... happened?"

"You missed a lot," Liam said, smiling gently down at her.

She looked past his shoulder and caught sight of the strange, regal woman standing behind him. Her brow furrowed. "Who... who’s that?" 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Liam looked back at the queen. Her expression was neutral again, her hands now folded before her. He turned back to Mariel and whispered, "We’ll talk about that later. There are still things we need to do."

Mariel nodded, trusting him. She leaned into his shoulder, still weak but content to be in his arms again.

Eleanor approached next, her steps light but cautious. The moment she spotted the queen, her body tensed, almost imperceptibly. The others might not have noticed it, but Liam saw the subtle change in her eyes.

Mariel got to her feet slowly with Marcus helping her up, and the group instinctively gathered together, drawing into a rough circle near the center of the courtyard.

Eleanor didn’t speak to the queen.

She stepped past her—just slightly—but even as she moved, she kept her gaze locked, her shoulders stiff. Then she turned and embraced Sophia tightly, then Mariel, then even Sera. The moment lingered. These were the girls who had all nearly died under the curse of that palace, at the hand of the queen herself.

The queen watched, her eyes full of something unreadable.

Sera gave the queen a single nod of thanks—not warmth, just acknowledgment.

But Eleanor? Cold. Her eyes didn’t soften. Not even for a moment.

And the queen understood.

It was Liam who broke the silence again. He looked around at them all, every single person that still stood beside him in that courtyard. Battered, tested, broken in ways they wouldn’t fully understand until long after this place.

Everyone except one.

He drew in a breath. "Gorr," he said.

That one name brought another hush.

They all lowered their heads.

He had died fighting for all of them. In that cursed palace, under the weight of centuries-old shadows, Gorr had fought like a warrior of legend—and died like one.

No one said a word. No speeches, no prayers. Just silence.

A full minute passed. The courtyard was still. Even the wind had gone quiet, as if the palace itself were mourning with them.

And then, they raised their heads again. Stronger now. Together.

Ready for what came next.