Agnes approached Davina with the final knife.
The elder witch's face was triumphant—the culmination of decades of planning, centuries of ancestral manipulation. She raised the blade high, chanting words that predated New Orleans itself.
Davina looked at me.
Not across the square—across dimensions. Across the barriers I'd built, the protections I'd woven, the pocket dimension waiting to receive her. Her eyes held mine, and in them I saw everything: fear, hope, trust, love.
I'm here, I projected. I'll always be here.
The knife descended.
[DAVINA: BODY DEATH CONFIRMED]
[Ancestral claim attempt: IMMEDIATE]
[Your dimensional pocket: ACTIVATED]
[Soul transfer: IN PROGRESS]
[Ancestral resistance: EXTREME]
The ancestors fought.
They'd expected this—or at least sensed that something was wrong. Centuries of accumulated power reached for Davina's soul, trying to drag it into their realm, trying to complete the Harvest they'd designed.
I matched them.
Thirteen thousand realities of experience. Dimensional manipulation that predated their existence. Power drawn from sources they couldn't comprehend.
[Soul transfer: 25%... 50%... 75%...]
[Ancestral grip: WEAKENING]
[Your hold: STRENGTHENING]
[Transfer: 95%... 98%... 99%...]
[COMPLETE]
Davina's body crumpled to the stones.
The square erupted—witches screaming, ancestors howling with frustrated rage, Agnes staring at the empty vessel that should have contained the Harvest's greatest prize.
But I wasn't watching them.
I was watching the pocket dimension where four girls' souls now rested. Where Davina's consciousness was already stirring, already reaching for the return I'd promised.
[THE HARVEST: DISRUPTED]
[Ancestral plan: FAILED]
[Four girls: SOULS PRESERVED]
[Resurrection potential: ACTIVE]
[Evolution progress: 45% toward Stage 3]
[Reward: 3000 EXP — Soul manipulation unlocked]
I slipped away from the square as chaos consumed it, heading for the Bayou safehouse where four bodies waited to receive their souls.
The Harvest was over.
But the real work was just beginning.