The Arbiterwing let out a final, rattling screech before collapsing in a heap of light and stone.
For a heartbeat, everything stilled.
Sylus, Elara, and I stood among the wreckage—breathing, bleeding, alive. The rooftop wind cut cold across my skin, carrying the last traces of the creature's dying protofield.
And then—
Elara froze.
Her knees buckled.
Instinct pulled me forward, but I forced myself still.
I knew this part. I'd seen it play out before.
Her pupils blew wide, her focus shattering. The rooftop blurred around her like fabric pulled too thin, fraying at the edges. She didn't fall—but she wasn't here anymore.
Elara wavered as reality fractured around her.
I held my breath.
It was happening.
The vision.
The myth.
The memory Sylus had been waiting for—the one bound to the Abysm Sovereign, the one that defined the entire route.
Elara's lips parted on a soft gasp.
Her body stiffened.
And she vanished inward.
She didn't speak, but her trembling hands, the way her breath shook—
I knew exactly what she was seeing.
Darkness.
Fire.
Blood coating her hands.
A bell tolling somewhere distant like a countdown.
She whispered something—too soft for the wind to catch.
Sylus's voice echoed within her vision, distant and ragged: You must press on.
Her breath hitched.
Then she reached—blindly, desperately—into that dark illusion, fingers curling around a dagger in someone's chest.
His chest.
I swallowed hard.
Even with the storm crashing above us, I felt her panic—her desperation—pressing against my ribs like a second heartbeat.
Her hands twitched in empty air, trembling violently, mimicking the moment she drove the blade deeper—
as his cold hand enclosed hers,
as she felt him die.
Again.
Like she'd done it before.
Like she was meant to do it again.
Elara choked on a breath—
—and reality snapped.
She gasped back into herself, jolting upright like someone breaking the surface after nearly drowning. Her eyes wild. Her breathing uneven. Her hand still hovering where the dagger should have been.
"Sylus," she whispered.
He stood in front of her, silent, composed, stormlight slicing across his features.
"Elara," he said. "You must press on."
And I knew—
he recognized what she'd seen.
Of course he did.
This was the moment he'd been chasing.
The confirmation he wanted.
But something was off.
His posture too still.
His gaze too unreadable.
It wasn't triumph in his eyes.
It was… restraint.
Elara reached toward him—unsteady, shaken.
He extended a hand.
The air tightened.
And then—
Resonance.
The world thinned to a vibrating hum as their fingers touched.
Light surged between their palms—violent, bright—rippling through the rooftop hard enough to make the metal beams groan.
Her pulse synced to his.
His power threaded into hers.
For one terrifying second, they were one continuous heartbeat.
I staggered back as the force rolled outward, rattling through my cracked ribs.
I'd seen this scene before.
But feeling it from ten feet away—
feeling it slam against my skin like a second shockwave—
was like watching destiny lock into place.
The energy ebbed as Elara lowered her gaze.
The Aether Core hovered in her palm—glowing, trembling, alive.
"So this is the Aether Core…" she whispered.
It flickered once—then cracked.
She flinched. "What just happened?"
"It belongs to you now," Sylus said, eyes never leaving the Deepspace Tunnel. "Naturally, the vessel breaks."
"To me?" she echoed. "But it's… gone."
Sylus gave a faint smirk. "Isn't that what you wanted?"
His voice sounded satisfied.
But his eyes…
Something else lived there.
Something quieter.
Something unsettled.
I watched him carefully.
He'd gotten what he wanted:
the memory,
the resonance,
the confirmation.
So why did he look disappointed?
Like the outcome didn't sit right in his chest?
Before I could think further, the Deepspace Tunnel screamed.
A thunderous groan tore across the sky.
The rooftop vibrated.
Below us, the entire N109 Zone flickered like unstable film.
A chain reaction—canon-perfect—raced outward.
Metal twisted.
Wires snapped.
Wind howled with ozone and burning steel.
The resonance softened.
Elara steadied, though she held the cracked Core like it might bite her if she loosened her grip.
Sylus's mask slid neatly back into place.
And me?
I waited.
Because in the game—
right here—
the binding appeared.
The soul-tether.
The energy shackle.
The red-and-gold band that snapped around their wrists like fate sealing its claim.
Unmistakable.
Unavoidable.
Elara pressed a hand over her sternum, still feeling that phantom heartbeat.
Sylus's fingers flexed once at his side.
I stared at their wrists.
Waiting.
Any second now—
the tether would flicker awake, thin at first, then solidifying into a luminous chain of intertwined energy.
Any second.
Any—
Nothing.
My stomach dropped.
Elara didn't notice—still dazed, still trying to make sense of what she'd seen.
I stared harder.
Maybe it just needed a moment.
Maybe the trigger was slightly delayed.
The air shimmered faintly.
Still nothing.
A cold ripple slid down my spine.
Not fear—
wrongness.
A foundational event was missing.
A core mechanic.
Which meant—
the story was diverging harder than anything before.
I inhaled slowly, hoping the tremor in my ribs wasn't visible.
When I finally looked up—
Sylus wasn't watching Elara.
Or the Tunnel.
Or the disaster spreading below.
He was watching me.
Sharp eyes.
Dark.
Evaluating.
Like he had been waiting for the exact moment the tether should appear.
Like he noticed its absence.
Like he immediately searched for the variable.
Me.
Heat crawled up my neck. I forced my face blank, as if I hadn't been staring at their wrists waiting for glowing shackles to appear out of thin air.
I turned toward the Tunnel, pretending that was what held my attention.
But my heart hammered against cracked ribs.
Something was missing.
Something the world expected to happen did not.
And Sylus clearly blamed me for it.
—
The drive through the N109 Zone was nearly silent.
The windshield framed a collapsing world—metal bones of ruined towers, lights flickering like dying stars, plumes of dust spiraling upward. The chain reaction rippled through the landscape, unwinding fate in real time.
Elara sat beside me in the back seat, hands clenched tightly in her lap.
Sylus sat across from us, perfectly composed—still humming with power, as if resonance hadn't drained him at all.
I shifted carefully, trying to keep pressure off my ribs. Each bump in the road sent a shard grinding under my skin—sharp, white-hot. I kept my expression still.
Elara kept staring at the cracked Aether Core in her palm. She held it delicately—like it was dangerous, like it might rupture again if she exhaled too hard.
Finally, I broke the silence.
"What did you see?"
She startled slightly. "Hm?"
"Back on the rooftop," I clarified. "It looked like a vision."
Elara hesitated, voice unsteady. "It was… dark. Hot. Everything was burning. And I—"
Her breath caught. "My hands were covered in blood. Someone else's blood."
My stomach tightened.
I knew exactly whose.
"There was a bell," she whispered, "and a blade. I was holding it. And someone told me to push it deeper."
Sylus didn't interrupt. Didn't look surprised. He simply brushed dust from his sleeve like he'd heard this story a dozen times.
Elara turned to him. "Was that real?"
He didn't look up. "If I say yes, will you give a sincere apology?"
She glared. "Be serious."
"I am."
But his eyes flicked to her wrist.
Then to mine.
I pretended not to notice.
"It felt like a memory," she said softly.
"It's not a big deal," Sylus replied. "You'll see more things like that."
A tremor ran through her. "More?"
Sylus finally looked at her. "This world isn't what you think it is. But I'm not in the mood to tell stories."
I felt his gaze skim me again—sharp, searching.
Testing a theory.
I kept my eyes on the ruined skyline sliding past the window.
Elara swallowed. "The resonance… did it cause the vision?"
"No." Sylus exhaled. "The resonance revealed what was already there."
Then, almost lazily: "The Aether Core is inside you now."
Elara stared at the cracked vessel in her palm. "So it's… in me."
"Yes," he said.
And then his attention flicked back to me—like he was waiting for a glitch, a slip, a reveal.
I ground my teeth and kept staring out the window.
In the original story, this was where the tether snapped taut, dragging the heroine toward him whether she wanted it or not.
But now—
there was nothing on her wrist.
Nothing binding them.
Nothing claiming their souls.
Just three people in a car—two of them connected, one of them the anomaly.
Outside, the destroyed skyline burned.
Inside, Sylus watched me like he already knew:
The story was changing.
And I was the reason.