Under the constant accumulation of Mithras' secret juice, a king-class mutation dormant in Cassandra's bloodline activated, enabling her to evolve into a Heart Enchantress: an almost extinct breed of sex demonesses made famous for their habit of seducing innocent men at night.
The Spiritual World's equivalent of succubi, basically. But they were a lot more passionate and devoted to their partners, often obsessing over their lover, and keeping them close at all times. In half the cases, however, the Heart Enchantress eventually got bored with her partner, draining them to death before moving on to the next prey.
But the moment Cassandra unlocked the textbook horns and butterfly wings of Heart Enchantresses, Elektra's eyes stretched to the limits,
"Cassandra...you too?" The queen couldn't believe her eyes. This was the same mutation that their eldest sister, Lyssandra, was born with. The mutation that led the previous king, Odoacer di Uriah, to throw caution to the wind and marry Lyssandra to his son.
Because while Heart Enchantresses often showcased disturbing character flaws, their children would only inherit the demonic blood if they were females. More importantly, Heart Enchantress' children were born with greater potential than their parents combined.
This uncanny ability eventually led to the species getting exploited to near extinction—a tragic ending.
Cassandra had no time to consider the origins or consequences of this demonic mutation, turning towards her sister.
"You're willing to talk to me now? And here I was thinking about what I could possibly say to make you come around. Nice! Saves me the trouble of a longwinded speech," Cassandra said with a warm and gentle smile, her words causing Elektra to look the other way and avoid eye contact.
"Play the 'mute' card if you want to. So long as you stand up and get ready to fight for a way out," Cassandra said, causing Elektra, who'd completely given up on fighting back, to snap in indignation.
"Fight? Fight with what? This is the Empress we're talking about! The Empress! One whose bare hands once ripped out the heart of a Dark Preceptor! It's hopeless!
Hope...less!" Elektra broke down. There was such a thing as being too smart for one's own good. After discovering the true terror of Akamana's powers, Elektra couldn't imagine a scenario where any of them could escape the Grand Priestess' arrangements.
She could control space and manipulate Sid at the highest level. With those two powers alone, there was no way out.
So why fight? Why bother? Was it not silly to throw bare punches at a wall of concrete? Elektra didn't like doing unnecessary things. But as the queen's heart sank, and Akamana's previous words resonated in her mind, Cassandra grabbed her younger sister by the collar, hoisting Elektra up.
"Why are you still calling her 'Empress?' We're no longer teenage girls swooning at the tales of the Grand Priestess' legend. We're faction leaders in our right while she now stands as the enemy threatening to bury the hopes we carry on our shoulders!
There is no Empress here! Only the enemy from the Angra Theocracy!" Cassandra snapped, rocking Elektra back and forth, before throwing her to the ground and turning towards Akamana.
"I do not believe there is such a thing as a problem without a solution. It is up to us to use our powers as ingeniously as possible to create our opportunity and turn the tables. The big sister you miss so much was the most stubborn person ever and would have never stopped fighting back! So stand up and get ready to put on the best show of your life!
I...need you," Cassandra whispered the last part, but thanks to her Sensory Secret, Elektra heard everything from start to finish—trembling from head to toe. Waves of regret swept through the queen's veins, and too ashamed to look Cassandra in the eyes, Elektra lowered her head, standing up to face Akamana alongside her sister.
Cassandra was out of breath, shaking as she refused to accept the Grand Priestess' words. And if even Cassandra looked this lost and distraught. One can imagine the chaos in Elektra's mind.
"No...no...NOOOOOOOOO!" Elektra lost it at last, holding her head as veins pulsed all around her forehead and temples. Memories of Lyssandra flooded Elektra's brain, and her eyes went bloodshot.
"Yes, yes...YESSSSSSSS!
Truth be told, your Maiden's Harness is the only reason why Gaiseric didn't kill himself after that whole debacle. The euphoric side effects the castrate feels from the charm...kept him drugged and happy enough to not go stark raving mad.
Vel'Asha understood that as well, so until she found a better way to deal with her boy's mental collapse, she only temporarily broke the charm when Gaiseric needed to be in his full mental capacity." Here, Akamana paused and as Elektra backpedaled, her vision turned blurry and her jaw trembled, the Grand Priestess stretched out her arms, arching her back with theatrical flair.
At the Grand Priestess' back, the 300 Zealots beat their drums, adding gravity and suspense to an impossibly tense situation.
"And so the truth is revealed!
On the count of colluding with his father and causing his wife's demise, we the jury find Gaiseric di Uriah....innocent!
If there has to be a culprit, there is only one person in this world we can say caused Lyssandra's death. The one who interrupted the ritual and caused her soul to split from her body: you...Elektra. You killed your sister. You and no one else," Akamana said out loud what Elektra had understood already.
Yet those words became the final straw, making Elektra face the fact that she'd spent the last 18 years of her life acting a fool.
There was no one to avenge.
All were innocent.
She killed so many...for nothing at all.
The world around Elektra spun, and she puked a large mouthful of blood, collapsing in a violent seizure.
"I come, I see, I take and go. I praise the Lord and break them all.
I came, I saw! I came, I saw! I praised the Lord and broke them all!
I came, I saw! I came, I saw! I praised the Lord and broke them all!" Akamana broke into a graceful dance, singing as she spun with extraordinary flexibility and mesmerizing elegance. The Zealots drummed alongside her, creating a festive atmosphere in the collapsing royal palace.