Final Battle Recap:
In the labyrinth, Moksh and Albert face the shadow witch, Theresa Sebastian, a being of elemental fury who has completed her final sacrifice. She reveals that her power now commands the ley lines, and the balance is hers to control.
The battle is a fierce clash of elements. Moksh uses his Sage Eyes to mirror and twist Theresa's dark spells back at her, acting as a razor-sharp blade against her corruption. Albert, a beacon of light, wields his purifying Holi magic to burn away the witch's influence and heal the elemental fractures, though the effort drains him.
Ignoring Albert's plea for her to abandon her vengeance, Theresa fights with a furious rage. The two heroes work in tandem: Moksh redirects a lightning bolt, and Albert's purifying light reveals a weakness in her shadowy form.
In a final, synchronized effort, Albert unleashes a massive burst of purifying light to sever the witch's connection to the ley lines. Moksh follows with a wave of copied dark magic, unraveling the curses that bind her spirit. With a final scream, Theresa's form dissolves, and the elemental storms dissipate.
Moksh and Albert emerge victorious, as the village is restored to a fragile peace. The elders and the Paranormal police show them genuine respect and gratitude. The story concludes with the unspoken understanding between Moksh and Albert that their fight against darkness is ongoing, but their combined powers make them an unstoppable force.
After that:
Two days later, the great oak doors of the Grandmaster's chamber in the Asian Paranormal Council's headquarters swung open with a heavy groan. Moksh and Albert entered side by side, the weight of the case still visible in the set of their shoulders. The journey back had been a silent one, filled with the ghosts of what they had seen. Grandmaster Elias sat behind his carved desk, his face a mask of solemn authority, flanked by senior council members from every region of Asia. The polished floor reflected the lantern light; the air smelled faintly of parchment, incense, and the distant promise of rain.
Pragya, a senior officer and a close confidante, stood beside a table stacked with evidence—photographs of the ritual sites, recovered talismans, and a sealed, age-worn document bound in red silk.
"Gentlemen," Elias said, his voice deep and measured. "Your report."
Albert stepped forward first, placing a black leather folder and the sealed document on the table. "The Ross Island disturbance has been neutralized. The witch—Theresa Sebastian—has been bound and laid to rest. The elemental fractures have been stabilized. But her story… deserves to be heard."
Moksh's voice followed, low but clear, cutting through the formality of the room. "She was not born a monster. This," he said, tapping the sealed document, "is the truth you never told us before sending us."
A wave of tension, thick and palpable, rolled through the chamber. Elias nodded slowly, a single, weary motion.
At his command, Albert broke the seal.
As Albert read, his voice steady but carrying the weight of every word, the council chamber seemed to darken. He spoke of Theresa Sebastian, a child born with extraordinary elemental affinity, a victim of her own power and the fear of those around her. He detailed her persecution after the Great Storm of 1907, the village's unjust accusations, and her father's cruel abandonment. He described how the Paranormal Council of the time, in its infancy, had failed her, attempting to "bind" her power with a reckless and painful ritual that left her in agony and scarred the island's ley lines.
The council members listened in a heavy silence. They heard of her exile, her misguided attempt to protect others, and the final, crushing betrayal that transformed her grief into a hunger for vengeance. The murders were not random acts of a malevolent spirit, but a calculated, brutal ritual to realign the fractured ley lines, each victim a tragic consequence of the council's own long-buried failure.
When Albert finished, the silence in the chamber was profound. The older council members looked away, shame and memory shadowing their faces.
"This was buried," Elias finally said, his voice a low rumble. "Because the council feared blame. It was our failure that shaped the witch's path."
Moksh met his eyes, his gaze unwavering. "Burying mistakes doesn't erase them. It feeds them."
Several Paranormal Police captains glanced toward Moksh, their expressions respectful and their distrust of the council's silence clear.
Albert stepped back beside Moksh. "We stopped her. But if you don't change how cases like this are treated, she won't be the last."
Elias inclined his head, a single nod of concession. "Your point is heard. And recorded."
As the meeting adjourned, rain began to patter softly against the high windows, a gentle echo of the storm that had passed. Moksh lingered, rolling the now-empty red silk between his fingers.
Albert looked at him. "You're thinking about her."
Moksh's mouth curved in a rueful half-smile. "Tragic villains are made, not born. We can cage the monster… but if we don't fix the world that created her, we'll see her shadow again."
Together, they stepped into the corridor, partners in light and darkness, ready for the next mystery, knowing that the real fight was only just beginning.