Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 343: A Clash Of Crazy (Part 3)

While Don settled into something resembling peace, several miles out, Trixie stood on unstable earth.

Her eyes narrowed, still locked on the dark where Sister Rose had disappeared. The sounds had stopped—no more meat-squelch, no more dragging. Just silence.

Then, slowly, Rose stepped back into view.

Whatever had happened to her in that darkness, it hadn't healed her—it had changed her. Her body was still smeared with blood, but now caked in clumps of dirt too, the kind that stuck to wet flesh in patches.

It coated her thighs, her chest, her arms. It was hard to even tell she was naked anymore.

Her movements were slower this time. Not from pain. Something else.

Her eyes found Elle.

And for the first time… there was hesitation.

Not in her steps. Not in her voice.

Just her eyes. "You are dangerous to the new world," she hissed, tone brittle with rage. "But Mother says your body could be a great vessel. Submit your flesh in honor of her."

The words cracked as they left her mouth—like they didn't belong to a human throat.

The hatred in her voice was real. But so was the madness. Trixie could feel it from where she stood—faint, but steady. Not the kind of madness that lashes out randomly, but the kind that chooses violence with full intent.

It was the same aura that poured off the Green Thorns. Blind conviction. Bone-deep loyalty to something no one else could see.

Trixie let her arms fall slightly at her sides, fingers twitching.

She didn't know what either of them wanted anymore. Elle didn't fight for control, and Rose didn't seem to care about survival. It was just… madness, colliding with madness.

Then the ground shook.

It started low. Subtle. A slow tremor that rocked the forest like something had exhaled beneath it. Stones shifted. Loose branches rattled. The bark on the closest tree shivered like skin under cold breath.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

Trixie tensed, her feet adjusting.

The tremor passed.

But then came the vibrations.

Fast. Focused. Like dozens of tiny things crawling just beneath the surface. The air didn't shake—but the soles of her feet did.

That tingling buzz raced up her legs.

She didn't like it. And neither did Elle.

"Move," Elle said urgently.

Her voice hadn't risen. It still carried that eerie softness she'd worn since going critical. But now it had a second layer—like another Elle had said it with her, just half a second behind.

Trixie didn't wait.

**Fwoosh**—she leapt straight up, her body arching as the wind whipped past her.

**KRK-SHHHK**

The ground she'd just been standing on collapsed inward.

A sinkhole.

Two feet across. Depth unknown. Just a pit, swallowing dirt like it had been waiting for her specifically.

Then—**thump**, **thump**, **crack**, **crack**—more sinkholes appeared. All around them.

One by one.

Tree roots snapped. The forest moaned under its own weight as several trees began to tilt. One thick trunk leaned too far and crashed into another with a heavy **WHUDD** that sent birds scattering.

The air filled with frantic wingbeats, rustling leaves, and the quick, skittering escape of rodents and insects trying to flee underground.

Trixie's boots skimmed the edge of a branch—then vanished as she blinked out mid-air.

She reappeared on a thicker branch, much higher. Stable. Just in time to see what Elle had done.

Because Elle hadn't jumped.

She had disappeared just as the ground beneath her cracked, leaving behind a blur—the echo of her former position—and a thin, faint line trailing through the air like an afterimage.

That line stopped at the base of a tree where Elle now stood, motionless.

The echo shimmered for a second longer—then faded.

Trixie blinked.

From above, she could see the sinkholes clearly now. Dozens of them. They hadn't appeared at random.

They formed a shape.

A wide, uneven hexagon—etched into the earth by collapse and chaos.

She didn't get time to think it over.

Her bracelet crackled again.

**Skrrtch**—**fzzzz**—

"Madam Trixie," Gary's voice came through, strained but clear. "What is the situation? I just picked up Level 4 tremors originating from your area."

Trixie raised her wrist toward her face, fingers brushing across the edge of the silver band. The static in the comm had gone quiet again, just the faint hum of an open line. Gary was waiting.

Problem was—she had no idea what to tell him.

She'd been in some weird situations with Elle before. Plenty, actually. Arcane anomalies, pocket-dimension meltdowns, one time they accidentally walked in on a forgotten warlock funeral. But this?

This was... different.

Her eyes scanned the area again from her perch.

The holes had stopped forming, but the pattern was still obvious from this height. Hexagonal. Intentional. Like someone had buried a ritual diagram under the forest floor and it was starting to wake up.

Elle hadn't moved.

Still by the base of the tree. Still focused on Rose. Her shoulders slack. Face unreadable.

Trixie sighed. "Okay," she muttered, mostly to herself. "Let's just… start somewhere."

She lifted the comm again.

"It's messy," she said. "Elle's still stable—I guess—but this Sister Rose chick just basically rose from the dead and caused a mini earthquake. Now there's weird-looking holes everywhere. We're fine, though—"

She stopped.

Eyes narrowing.

There. In one of the holes.

A faint glint of green.

No, not a glint. An eye. Then another. Then more—dozens.

All glowing. All fixed upward.

From every sinkhole.

Then came the sound.

Low, deep, drawn-out.

**grrrraaaaarghhhhhh...**

Primal. Animalistic. And very, very wrong.

The forest, already quiet, somehow got darker.

Trixie's back stiffened. Her ears twitched. She leaned forward, squinting into the nearest pit.

The growling wasn't just coming from one place. It was coming from all of them. Every hole. A chorus of hatred. Nothing had climbed out yet—but the air was thick with the threat of it.

Elle still hadn't moved.

Sister Rose, however, had.

She was smiling now. Not like before. This one had patience in it. Confidence. She took a step forward, her bare feet pressing softly into the broken earth, and stared down Elle with quiet disgust.

"I can't wait to twist and play with you until you break," she said, voice curling like smoke. "They always break."

The last word carried more glee than menace.

Then—silence again.

The vibrations had stopped. But the growling? Still there. Still rising.

Gary's voice came through the comm again, louder and more clipped.

"Madam Trixie, please—can you precisely tell me what the situation is?"

Trixie didn't respond right away.

She blinked.

Then said flatly, "I wish I could, Gary. But I'm just as lost as you, and I'm watching it. Look, there's… things. In those weird-looking holes. So I'll update in a little bit? 'Kay? Awesome."

She pulled the comm back slightly, already preparing to cut the line.

Gary tried to speak again, clearly not satisfied. "Madam Trixie, wait—"

But he didn't get to finish.

Because Sister Rose, standing tall and oddly composed for someone who looked like a naked corpse pulled from a ditch, slowly lifted her arms as if beginning a sermon.

Her fingers spread wide. Her bloodied skin glistened in the low moonlight, streaked with dirt, her hair clinging to her collarbones like vines.

Then she spoke.

"Children of the forest…" she said sweetly, almost reverently, "catch these defilers for me."

The smile that followed was cold and satisfied.

"…Do try not to ruin the bodies too badly," she added. "I want that pleasure for myself. Now go."

That was the cue. The growling exploded into chaos.

**Rrrrrr-AARRRHHHH!**

The sound of movement surged all at once—scraping, shifting, clawing. Whatever was inside the holes had heard her. And it listened.

Trixie didn't even look surprised. Just deeply, existentially tired.

Her thumb pressed the side of the comm.

"Uhm. Hey Gary," she said. "Let me call you back."