Rafe wasn't breathing.
Not properly.
His chest rose only slightly, irregular, like his body had forgotten the rhythm it was supposed to follow. His skin was cold beneath Selene's trembling hands, the glow of her diagnostic spell flickering weakly as if even magic struggled to read him.
"He's slipping," Selene said, her voice tight. "His soul is desynchronizing."
Lyn froze.
"What… what does that mean…?"
Selene didn't look up.
"It means his body is here," she said, "but he isn't fully attached to it anymore."
Mara clenched her fists, blood still running down her arm.
"So fix it."
Selene's jaw tightened.
"This isn't a wound I can heal."
The Seer swallowed hard.
"The third layer pushed too far. Whatever is inside him almost pulled him out of himself."
Lyn dropped to her knees beside Rafe.
"No," she whispered. "He's right here. He has to be."
She grabbed his hand with both of hers.
It felt wrong.
Too light.Too empty.
Rafe's fingers didn't curl around hers.
Lyn's chest tightened painfully.
Selene stood abruptly.
"There is one way," she said. "But it's dangerous. Improvised. And it shouldn't work."
Mara looked up instantly.
"Do it."
Selene hesitated for half a second.
"That method requires an anchor," she continued. "Something that ties his soul to this world. To people."
The Seer's eyes widened.
"A soul anchor? Here?! Without a prepared circle?! You'll tear yourself apart!"
Selene ignored her.
"Rafe doesn't have a single stable origin," she said quietly. "Not his birth. Not his power. Not even his destiny. But he has bonds."
Her gaze dropped to Lyn.
Lyn stiffened.
"…Me?"
Selene nodded slowly.
"You were the first presence he accepted without fear. Your mana resonates with his in a stabilizing way."
Lyn's hands shook.
"I—I don't know how to do magic like that—"
"You don't need to," Selene said. "You just need to stay."
Mara crawled closer, wincing.
"And me?"
Selene met her eyes.
"You're his anchor to survival. To instinct. To refusal."
Mara didn't smile.
"Good. I refuse a lot."
Selene inhaled sharply and pressed both palms against the ground.
Runes flared outward in a rough, unstable circle.
"This will not be clean," she warned. "If his soul rejects the anchor… he won't come back."
Lyn tightened her grip on Rafe's hand.
"I won't let him go."
The Seer stepped back, pale.
"This is insane."
Selene looked at her coldly.
"So is letting him die."
The runes pulsed.
The forest dimmed.
And somewhere far away—
Something noticed.
Not the Director.
Not the Commission.
Something deeper.
Older.
Patient.
Inside the circle, Rafe's consciousness drifted.
He wasn't in darkness.
He was in distance.
A vast, silent place where sound didn't travel and thoughts felt heavy. Shapes loomed far away—structures, shadows, memories that didn't belong to him.
And at the center of it all—
A presence.
Not hostile.Not kind.
Waiting.
You stepped too far, it said.
Rafe tried to speak.
No voice came out.
This vessel is fragile.
A pull tugged at him—gentle, insistent.
Come. You do not need it.
Another pull answered.
Smaller.Weaker.But warmer.
Rafe felt fingers around his.
A trembling voice.
Please don't go.
His chest tightened painfully.
He turned.
Lyn stood in the distance, small and terrified, holding a thread of light that stretched from her chest to his.
Mara stood behind her, battered and bleeding, arms crossed, glaring at the void itself like she dared it to take him.
Selene stood further back, exhausted, burning her own life force to keep the circle standing.
Rafe tried to move.
The presence stirred.
Attachment is weakness.
Rafe clenched his teeth.
"…No."
The word came out broken.
But real.
"I choose… this."
The presence paused.
For the first time—
It hesitated.
The thread of light pulled harder.
Rafe stumbled toward it.
Pain exploded through his chest.
His body convulsed.
In the real world, Rafe gasped violently and sucked in air like he was drowning.
Lyn cried out.
"He breathed—!"
Selene shouted, voice hoarse.
"Hold him! Don't let go!"
The runes shattered one by one as the ritual collapsed.
Rafe's body arched—then went limp.
Silence.
Then—
A heartbeat.
Weak.
But steady.
Selene collapsed to her knees, exhausted.
Mara laughed shakily, half-hysterical.
"He's… he's alive."
Lyn pressed her forehead to Rafe's chest, sobbing in relief.
But the Seer wasn't smiling.
She stared into the trees.
"…It's too late."
Selene looked up sharply.
"What do you mean?"
The Seer's voice was barely above a whisper.
"The anchor worked. But the signal he released while fading…"
The forest darkened unnaturally.
Mana twisted.
"…it wasn't just heard."
A pressure settled over the land—vast, slow, inevitable.
Something ancient had turned its gaze.
Something that did not hunt like the Commission.
Something that answered awakenings.
Selene felt it and went pale.
"We need to move."
The Seer shook her head slowly.
"No," she said.
"It's already here."