Dead Debut

The area where Xayzseia's coffin was being lowered was filled with sobs, blending with the relentless patter of pouring rain. The downpour hastened the ceremony, and attendees quickly left to avoid getting drenched. Amidst the hurried departure, a mysterious woman remained at Xayzseia's tomb.

"Who's that?" one woman asked, her voice barely audible over the rain.

"That must be Xayzseia's best friend," another replied.

"That's not Xayzseia's best friend" said a third, squinting through the rain. "Who is she?"

The mourners were stunned by the sight of the unknown woman dressed in red, standing out starkly against the sea of white-clad sympathizers. Murmurs of confusion spread through the crowd.

"Why is she dressed like that?"

"Is she a relative? I've never seen her before."

In the distance, an older woman dressed in black watched the scene unfold. She stepped closer, her presence commanding attention despite the rain.

"Xayzseia is very much alive," the old woman whispered, her voice cutting through the din.

The crowd fell silent, turning their attention to her. "What do you mean?" a man near the front asked, his brow furrowed.

The older woman looked directly at him, her eyes filled with a knowing intensity. "You will see soon enough. Xayzseia's story is not over."

As she spoke, the woman in red began to move, strolling around the grave. She raised her head, eyes locked onto the older woman's. A spark of recognition and a silent exchange passed between them.

"Who are you?" Steph demanded, stepping forward. "What do you know about Xayzseia?"

The woman in red smiled faintly. "I am here to ensure justice is served," she said softly. "Xayzseia was wronged, and those responsible will face their reckoning."

The crowd gasped, whispers of fear and curiosity rippling through them. "What are you talking about?" another mourner asked.

The older woman stepped forward, placing a hand on the woman in red's shoulder. "This is just the beginning," she said. "Watch and wait. Xayzseia's spirit is stronger than you know."

As the rain continued to pour, the atmosphere grew charged with a sense of impending change. The mourners, once eager to escape the weather, now felt compelled to stay and witness whatever was about to unfold. The woman in red turned back to the grave; her eyes closed as if in silent communion with the earth.

The old woman's whisper echoed in their minds: "Xayzseia is very much alive."

The crowd, now drenched but unmoving, watched with bated breath. The woman in red stood by Xayzseia's grave; her eyes closed in solemn contemplation. The older woman in black stepped forward, commanding the attention of all present.

"You all think you knew Xayzseia," the old woman began, her voice strong despite her age. "But what you saw was only a fraction of who she truly was. Her spirit was crushed by those who envied her, but it was never destroyed."

The woman in red opened her eyes, and a palpable shift occurred. It felt as though the very air was charged with energy. She began to speak, her voice clear and resonant. "I am not just a friend or a stranger. I am the embodiment of Xayzseia's strength, her will to fight, and her desire for justice. Those who tormented her will face the consequences."

"Consequences?" Steph repeated, her voice trembling. "What do you mean?"

"The pain she endured was not in vain," the woman in red continued. "Her suffering has forged a power within her that will now be unleashed. Each of you who stood by and did nothing, who participated in her torment, will now know her strength."

The crowd stirred uneasily, whispers of guilt and fear spreading. Some exchanged nervous glances, while others avoided eye contact at the ground.

A young man in the back stepped forward, his face pale. "I... I didn't mean to hurt her," he stammered. "I was just following the others. I never thought it would go so far."

The older woman shook her head sadly. "Excuses will not absolve you. Your actions have consequences."

Suddenly, a rumble of thunder echoed across the sky, and a bolt of lightning illuminated the graveyard. The woman in red raised her hands, and the earth around Xayzseia's grave began to tremble. The mourners gasped, some stepping back in fear.

"Xayzseia's spirit demands justice," she proclaimed. "And justice will be served."

A figure began to rise from the disturbed earth. It was Xayzseia, her form glowing with an ethereal light. She looked different now—more assertive and confident, her eyes burning with fierce determination.

"Xayzseia," Steph whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Is it you?"

Xayzseia nodded, her gaze sweeping over the crowd. "Yes, it is me. I have returned not for revenge but for justice. Those who caused me pain will face the truth of their actions. No longer will I be the weak girl you once knew."

She stepped forward, her presence radiating power. The crowd parted before her, shocked and fearful.

The woman in red and the older woman stood together, their roles as protectors and guides now clear. "This is just the beginning," the old woman said softly. "Xayzseia's strength will change everything."

As Xayzseia moved among them, the mourners felt a mix of emotions—fear, guilt, and a strange sense of hope. They realized that their world was about to change, irrevocably altered by the return of the girl they had once underestimated.

Xayzseia stopped in front of Steph, her eyes softening. "You, too, were once my friend. I hope you can find it in your heart to change and improve."

Steph nodded, tears flowing freely. "I will. I promise."

With that, Xayzseia turned away, her path clear. She would face those who wronged her, not with vengeance but with the power to change their hearts and lives. As she walked, the rain began to subside, and the storm passed, leaving a sense of calm and renewal.