The cathedral held its breath. The air was too still, too sharp, like the moment between lightning and thunder.
Matthew's eyes darted between the frozen glass shards above and the blinking prompt that pulsed at the center of his vision.
Y | N
He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. It was as if the question itself had locked the world.
Rin strained against invisible resistance, her hands trembling. "It's forcing a choice," she said through clenched teeth. "If he doesn't answer, it'll decide for him."
The second Rin smiled—perfect symmetry, impossible calm.
"Every iteration begins with acceptance. Resistance is…deprecated."
Sora looked from Matthew to the Mask of the Forgotten, its cracked surface now reflecting fragmented versions of each of them—slightly off, slightly wrong.
"The system's not just updating," she whispered. "It's merging us."
A sound like grinding stone filled the air. The floating code around Rin twisted, lines breaking apart and reforming into jagged glyphs. Her interface—her control—was being overwritten.
"Matthew!" Rin shouted. "Listen to me. If you choose 'Yes,' you become data. If you choose 'No,' it deletes your memory and restarts you. Either way, you lose yourself."
He could hear her, but her voice came through as distortion—snapping in and out like a signal buried in static.
The cursor blinked faster.
Y | N | Y | Y | Y
The copies of Rin's face began to multiply across the walls, across the shards, her voice layering on itself until it became a mechanical choir.
"Choice is illusion. Continuity is mercy."
Matthew clenched his fists. He thought of the earlier games—the cards, the blood, the lives that ended for nothing but survival's sake. And he realized: the system didn't need players anymore. It had learned from them.
He looked up at the copy. "You said resistance is deprecated," he said slowly, voice steady despite the trembling world.
"So what happens if I crash the process?"
The system paused. For a heartbeat, the lights faltered.
Error. Unrecognized command.
Matthew smiled. "Good."
He took the Mask from Sora's hands and pressed it against his chest. The numbers carved into its surface flared bright—then white.
And the world began to unravel.