[POV: Jiwoon]
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The sky cracked.
Not metaphorically. Not in the way poets mourn.
The actual sky above the Citadel of Ash fractured like old glass under pressure it was never meant to bear. Black lightning crawled out of the wounds like roots of a dead god — reaching, hungry, wrong.
In the center of it stood Kira.
Arms crossed. Coat unmoving despite the roaring heat. His eyes were fixed, not on Ereze or me — but on the throne itself, as if he was listening to it whisper something only monsters could understand.
Ereze lay at the center of the platform. Her blood spread like a sigil beneath her, soaking the cracks of the stone. Her blade — the one she forged during Trial #19 — was snapped in half beside her hand. Her breath came sharp, shallow. She had won. Barely. But she had won.
Until he arrived.
> "She passed the trial," I barked, throat dry and shaking. "This isn't part of it!"
Kira didn't answer right away.
He looked at me the way a scientist might look at a rat that pressed the wrong lever too many times.
> "It was never about passing," he said, voice smooth as ice. "It was about processing."
Then he raised his hand.
No ritual. No chant. Not even a ripple in the air.
And yet —
The ground beneath Ereze twisted in on itself.
The Citadel platform split open into concentric circles, like the rings of a tree rotting from the inside. A vortex formed — not of wind, but of memory. Time bent. Light folded. Ereze screamed as the pull yanked her into the spiral.
I ran.
I screamed her name.
I reached out —
— and was blasted backwards by an invisible force that knocked the world sideways.
> "Why?!"
I don't even remember if I said it or thought it. But Kira heard.
He turned his head slightly. Not enough to face me.
> "Because data must be tested."
---
[POV: Reader – ⬜⬜⬜]
---
The sky was still bleeding when I arrived.
I hadn't been far. But it didn't matter — time was skipping here. Warping. Something was wrong with this Trial Seat. Or rather, someone had rewritten its outcome.
Kira stood over the vortex, arms still folded. Ereze was gone. Jiwoon lay beside the spiral, coughing, bleeding from the mouth.
I didn't speak.
I didn't ask.
I ran.
Straight into the spiral.
---
There was no falling.
There was only forgetting.
The deeper I sank, the more I could feel pieces of myself being questioned — not erased, but challenged. Every certainty trembled.
I saw Ereze, suspended inside the spiral like a soul caught mid-prayer. A shimmering cocoon of memory wrapped around her.
Her mother was with her.
Not her real mother. A forged echo, perfect in detail and cruel in script.
> "You chose power over people," the memory said gently.
> "No," Ereze cried. "I chose survival."
> "You chose silence. You chose to close your mouth and open your fists."
> "Because no one listened when I screamed."
Her voice cracked.
> "Then why did you stop screaming?"
The memory's question struck like a blade.
Ereze dropped to her knees, whispering apologies to no one. To herself. To her mother. To the part of her that still believed she'd been wrong to want to live.
And that's when I stepped forward.
> "That's enough," I said.
The illusion turned to me — eyes ancient, tired, expecting.
But I wasn't a participant.
I was an anomaly.
I placed my hand on Ereze's shoulder — and the cocoon shattered.
Fragments of memory scattered like glass across a dream. Light poured out of us — not golden, not divine — but real. Raw. Honest. Full of every scream never heard and every tear wiped alone.
> [CHAIN LINKED: Empathic Sync – Emergency Recovery Triggered]
We rose.
Together.
---
[POV: Jiwoon]
---
I saw it from the edge.
The spiral glowed — and from it, they emerged.
Reader and Ereze. Wounded, yes. But standing. Alive. Together.
Kira watched, hands still in his pockets. Unmoved. Unimpressed. And yet… something had changed. I could feel it. A shift in his posture. A subtle tilt of the head.
> "You were supposed to choose," he said.
Reader stared back at him. "I did."
> "Between victory and mercy."
> "I chose not to play by your rules."
There was a silence that stretched longer than time.
Then, Kira smiled.
Not wide. Not wicked.
Just… intrigued.
> "You've passed," he said.
I blinked. "What?"
> "This was my trial, not the throne's. You succeeded at failing… correctly."
Reader stepped forward, jaw clenched. "That's rare?"
> "No," Kira said, beginning to fade. "It's nearly impossible."
He turned, coat billowing, eyes catching each of ours like pins in a map.
> "The Spiral has formed. Let's see if it holds."
Then he vanished.
The sky resealed above him.
And the Trial Seat, long cracked and broken, pulsed once…
> [Trial Complete – Bloodweight: Part II]
Trait Gained: Chain of Empathy – Sync temporarily with others during high stress or trauma.
Effect Multiplier: Increases with emotional bond strength.
New Status: Contender – Watch Level: HIGH
---
Later That Night
None of us slept.
We didn't speak of the spiral.
We didn't speak of Kira.
We didn't even speak of the pain.
Because when you've held someone in the space between life and forgetting — when you've chosen connection over control — no words are needed.
Just breathing.
Just surviving.
Together.
---