Papa Legba here

Blue light along the walls. Incense heavy in the air

Two guards in full armor step forward and salute

But the one on the left — il a bougé les yeux

The throne room guards never shift their gaze

Jamais

I shove the Loa sideways — blades come down where we had stood

Steel on steel, the sparks fly — her mage's black light ripping

Through the hood

They fall. I tear the helmet off. Mon Dieu — beneath the iron face

Pale skin. Blond hair. Not Vodunese. Not human. Not from this place

More from the shadows. More behind the door

We fight. We hold. The mage bleeds onto the floor

Then a spear — clean through a démon's chest — the body lifts and

Flies

Armoured figure. An X carved on his head. Familiar eyes

Beside him — shorter, bald — a wooden thing that fires like a bow

THe man pulls the trigger. Spear-tips singing. Four more démons hit

The stone below

The helmet drops. Clang on the floor

He is Baron kriminel. He tells us he no longer serves Ghede Ghadou Loa

His army rots in prison — parce que c'est lui. Because of him

My blade is yours." he says

I kneel beside a dying démon. A drop of blood — I press it to my eye

Hélas — the blood does not lie

Thirty assassins. Maybe more. Already inside the walls

Their target: the chamber that holds our defences. If it falls — tout

Est perdu

"Ma Loa — we must move. Maintenant."

"Mon Mysters ne tombera pas!" — she screams it through the steel

The queen was born for battle — born for this, c'est réel

I watch her fight. Mon Dieu, I swell with pride

The woman who will never kneel is the woman I must keep alive

The chamber. A cathedral of war

Winged démons — dozens — curved blades flashing on the floor

The guards are falling back. The démons have the numbers and the rage

Then the Loa crashes into their flank — and rewrites every page

She screams "My Mysters will not fall again! Pas une deuxième fois!"

She whirls through the ranks like smoke — they cannot touch La Loa

Her sword takes a head. Her blue light carves a chest

She dives and spins and strikes and the démons cannot rest

Magnifique. Terrifiant. She is everything I feared

Every démon that she cuts down — another one appeared

I charge behind her. Twin blades. Sparks on every side

"Protect your Loa!" I scream to the guards. They hear me. And they

Ride

We are winning. The tide is turning. Bodies on the stone

Her rage has lit a fire in every guard — we fight as one, not alone

"Mon Mysters ne tombera pas!" — she screams it through the steel

The queen was born for battle — born for this, c'est réel

I watch her fight. Mon Dieu, I swell with pride

The woman who will never kneel is the woman I must keep alive

But she pushes further. Deeper than anyone should go

Too far from the guards. Too far from me. I call her name — too slow

A blade. Through her side. She drops to her knees

A second blade — the shoulder. Mon Dieu — à genoux, she bleeds

I cut both démons down — their heads still spinning as I catch her

Fall

"Ma Loa!" — but she is no longer standing tall

"Mon Mysters ne tombera pas..." — she whispered through the blood

The queen was born for battle — born for this, c'est réel

I watch her fall. Mon Dieu, I choke on pride

The woman who will never kneel is the woman I cannot keep alive

Comment est-ce possible? She was supposed to outlive us all

She was supposed to lead the armies through the final wall

She was supposed to see the dawn. She was supposed to reign

I look around for something — someone — anything to take the pain

But the démons are all dead. The corridor is still

The only enemy remaining is the silence and the chill

The last time I felt this void — the last time I lost the ground

Was when they told me about ma sœur. The same depth. The same sound

She is... she is almost gone

Fout Tonné — à peine

The sword is still inside her

I cannot put her down

I cannot put her down