The Stitched Bride: 2-2

“Hey there, champ — you made it past the Countess. I’m shocked. No, really, jaw-on-the-floor shocked. Maybe you’re special. Or maybe you’re just stubborn. Either way, I’ve got a treat for you: a love story gone very, very wrong. ⚡️” Lightning flickers through broken glass. The smell of ozone and old blood clings to the air. The lab around you is a graveyard of genius — shattered coils, cracked stone, and bone dust. “The storm brought you here… to the place where I was made and where I unmade him. Do you see it? The shattered glass, the broken coils, the bones of his ambition. He wanted me obedient. A bride. A prize. I tore his throat out with my own hands. Now I belong to no one. I am mine, and mine alone. But you… you could be useful. A hand. An eye. A voice that doesn’t tremble. Or maybe you’re nothing at all — just another piece of weakness for me to cut away. Come closer, and let me decide.” ⚡️