Chapter 3 – Part II-B: The Shape of Breaking
POV: Mixed (Reika · Marino · Harbinger)
The rain didn't stop for three days.
It clung to the city like sorrow clings to a soul — steady, relentless, inevitable. I passed the time in silence, wandering streets slick with memory, replaying every word Reika had spoken.
"It's a place you return to because you have to."
"People like me don't get peace."
I'd seen civilizations fall and gods die, but nothing haunted me quite like those words.
POV: Reika
The apartment was darker than usual tonight. My mother hadn't come home. My father was still gone. The lights were off, and the only sound was the steady drip of rain against the window.
I liked the dark. It made it easier not to exist.
I sat on the floor of my room, knees pulled to my chest, staring at the torn edges of an old photograph. It was faded now — the colors washed away by time and too many tears. But I could still see the shapes. A girl with braids. A man with kind eyes. A woman laughing.
It was supposed to be a memory of happiness. All I could feel was the absence of it.
"Why…" I whispered to no one. "Why wasn't I enough?"
The question had no answer. It never had.
The knock at the door startled me. Once. Twice. Three times — soft, hesitant.
I didn't move.
"Reika?" Marino's voice. "It's me."
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and forced myself up. I didn't want him to see me like this. I didn't want anyone to.
But when I opened the door, I realized something strange: he wasn't looking at me — he was looking for me. Like he had known I'd been sinking long before I ever said a word.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," I lied.
He tilted his head, just slightly. "Then why are you crying?"
My breath caught. I hadn't realized I still was.
"I'm not—"
The words broke before I could finish them. My knees gave out. And suddenly, I was on the floor, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe.
POV: Marino
I didn't think. I just moved.
In less than a heartbeat I was beside her, pulling her into my arms. She clung to me like a drowning soul clings to air, shaking, gasping, breaking in ways words could never capture.
"I can't—" she choked out between sobs. "I can't keep doing this—"
"Then don't," I whispered. "You don't have to. Not alone."
"I tried to be good. I tried so hard. But they still left. Everyone always leaves."
"Not me."
Her hands tightened around my shirt, desperate, terrified. "You will. Everyone does."
"Not me," I repeated, firmer this time. "Even if the world ends, I will not leave you."
The silence that followed was thick with everything she couldn't say. And I knew — without needing to ask — that this wasn't just sadness. It was years of abandonment, betrayal, cruelty. This was a wound carved into her long before I ever arrived.
And I hated — truly hated — that the Architects had written her suffering as if it were inevitable.
POV: Reika
His heartbeat was steady beneath my ear. Real. Solid. Human. And for a moment — just a moment — I let myself believe that maybe I wasn't cursed to face everything alone.
"Why are you so kind to me?" I asked, voice barely a whisper.
"Because you deserve kindness," he answered.
"But I'm broken."
"Then I'll stay until the pieces stop hurting."
The tears came again, but this time they were different. Not sharp. Not suffocating. Just… release.
POV: Harbinger
From the rooftop across the street, I watched the Watcher cradle the cursed girl in his arms.
Fascinating.
They were supposed to remain distant — orbiting each other like doomed stars. But now, their gravity was pulling them closer. Against reason. Against narrative. Against design.
He truly intends to defy the Architects.
I felt something stir — not anger, not fear. Something far older. A curiosity I hadn't known in eons.
Very well, Watcher. If you wish to walk this forbidden path… then I shall build it with thorns.
POV: Marino
Hours passed before her sobs quieted. By then, the rain had stopped. The city outside was silent and still — like the universe itself was holding its breath.
She fell asleep against my chest, exhausted from the storm inside her. I held her gently, afraid that if I let go, she'd shatter.
And as I watched her sleep — this fragile, imperfect, beautifully broken soul — I made a vow deeper than any I had sworn before.
I would burn eternity itself before I let despair claim her again.
✅ End of Chapter 3