Chapter 5 – The Harbinger's Warning
1. Reika
The first sign that something was wrong came three days after that night on the rooftop.
It started subtly — the world just felt off. The wind was colder, the light duller, and the spaces between moments stretched longer than they should. People's voices blurred, conversations faded, and sometimes, if I stared too long at the sky, I swore I saw it breathing.
I told myself I was imagining it. That maybe, for once, my mind was playing tricks for me instead of against me.
But then I started dreaming.
Every night, the same image: a staircase spiraling into nothing, lined with crumbling stars. And at the bottom, a figure cloaked in shadow, whispering my name like it had been doing so since before I was born.
Reika.Reika.You are the anchor.
I'd wake up gasping, drenched in cold sweat, the echo of that voice clinging to my bones. I didn't tell Marino. I didn't know how to.
And still… a small part of me wasn't afraid.
Because for the first time, there was someone waiting for me when I opened my eyes.
2. Marino
Something was shifting. I could feel it in the fabric of the air.
The laws I had broken were pushing back — not yet with fury, but with pressure. Like the world itself was holding its breath, waiting to see how far I'd go.
I saw it in the way the sky dimmed too early, how the clocks in the hallway skipped seconds. I felt it in the ache in my chest, in the way my body trembled when I reached for her hand.
It was the universe reminding me: You don't belong here.
But I didn't care. If eternity wanted to drag me back, it would have to tear me from her side.
"Are you okay?" Reika asked one afternoon as we walked home. The autumn sun painted the street gold, but her eyes were fixed on me.
"Yeah," I lied. "Just tired."
She frowned. "You've been tired a lot lately."
I wanted to tell her the truth — that my human shell was unraveling, that every second near her frayed the threads that held me together. But what right did I have to burden her with that? She had enough of her own pain to carry.
So I smiled instead. "I'll be fine."
It wasn't convincing. But she didn't push.
3. Harbinger
The first ripple had appeared.
It spread outward from the girl like poison in water, unseen but undeniable. Fate's tapestry trembled, strands unraveling in ways they were never meant to. And at the heart of it all stood him — the Watcher who had abandoned eternity for love.
Pathetic.
I stepped into the mortal world that night, the air sizzling where my presence bled through the veil. Shadows recoiled, stars dimmed, and the city's heartbeat stuttered as I walked unseen among them.
Humans. Fragile, oblivious creatures clinging to meaning where none existed.
And yet, one of them had become the pivot on which the cosmos tilted.
I found her easily — souls like hers always shone brightest in the dark. She was sitting alone in a park, knees drawn to her chest, headphones in but no music playing. Staring at nothing.
I stood behind her, close enough that my voice would reach the marrow of her bones.
"Do you know what you are, Reika?"
She flinched, ripping her earphones out and spinning around. "Who's there?"
I smiled — not a kind smile. "The beginning of the end."
4. Reika
The man standing before me wasn't… right.
It wasn't just his presence — though something about him made the air feel too heavy, like gravity itself bowed around him. It was the way the shadows clung to his body, the way his eyes seemed older than the night.
"I asked you a question," he said. His voice was deep and calm, but every syllable vibrated inside my skull. "Do you know what you are?"
"I—I think you've got the wrong person."
"No," he said softly. "I never do."
I stumbled backward, heart pounding. "Who are you?"
"Names are for mortals. I am what comes after."
His gaze pierced through me. For a second, I swore I saw something — vast and cold and endless — lurking just behind those eyes. Something that knew me. That had waited for me.
"You were meant to break," he continued. "That is your purpose. The despair you carry is not a flaw — it is the fulcrum. The balance. Without your suffering, countless others cannot be saved."
My breath caught. "What are you talking about?"
"Your death is a necessity."
It felt like the ground vanished beneath me.
And then he smiled. "But someone has tampered with that destiny. Someone who has forgotten his place."
5. Marino
I felt it before I saw it.
A chill cut through the evening air, sharp and unnatural — a wound in the flow of time. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
Harbinger.
I ran.
When I reached the park, Reika was on the ground, staring up in horror at a figure draped in shadow. His presence made the night ripple — like reality itself was straining to contain him.
"Step away from her!" I shouted.
The figure turned, and a cold smile crept across his face. "Watcher."
"Harbinger," I spat. "You shouldn't be here."
"Neither should you." His eyes flickered with ancient contempt. "Do you understand what you've done?"
"I know exactly what I've done."
"Then you know the cost." His voice thundered through the park. "You dare to defy the weave of fate for a mortal? You would unmake the balance for a girl destined to die?"
I stepped in front of Reika. "I would."
For a long moment, Harbinger just stared at me. Then he laughed — a low, cruel sound that echoed like the cracking of stars.
"Then the world will burn for your love."
6. Reika
I didn't understand any of it.
The two of them — Marino and this man — spoke like they'd known each other forever. Like this wasn't the first time they'd stood on opposite sides of some terrible choice.
"Who… who are you?" I whispered.
Harbinger's eyes slid to me. "He hasn't told you?"
"Don't," Marino warned.
But the man ignored him. "This boy is no boy at all. He is a Watcher — a guardian of the cosmic order, bound to observe but never interfere. Until you."
I stared at Marino, my heart hammering. "Is that true?"
His silence was answer enough.
"And now," Harbinger continued, "he has broken every law that governs existence — all to save you. A broken, hopeless girl whose despair is necessary for the survival of millions."
"Stop it," Marino hissed. "Leave her out of this."
But Harbinger wasn't speaking to him anymore. He was speaking to me.
"Do you see now, Reika? The world is not cruel. It is precise. Your suffering has meaning. Your death has purpose. And by trying to save you, he condemns everything else."
7. Marino
"Enough."
The air around us shuddered as I summoned the last remnants of my strength. The form Harbinger had taken trembled — not out of fear, but recognition. I was weaker, yes, but not powerless.
"Touch her," I said, "and I'll burn the threads of fate myself."
"Then you doom all existence," Harbinger replied calmly.
"So be it."
For the first time, something like sadness passed over his face.
"You cannot win, Watcher. Either she dies, or everything does. That is the law."
"Then I will rewrite the law."
He stared at me for a long, heavy moment. Then he stepped back, the shadows around him curling inward.
"Very well," he murmured. "I will give you time. But know this — the fabric is already fraying. And when it snaps, it will not be me who suffers."
With that, he dissolved into the night, leaving only the weight of his warning behind.
8. Reika
The silence he left behind was suffocating.
I looked at Marino, my heart still racing, my mind a storm of questions I didn't know how to ask. His eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw fear there — not for himself, but for me.
"Was he telling the truth?" I whispered.
He closed his eyes. "Yes."
"And you… you're not—"
"I'm not human." His voice broke. "But I wanted to be. For you."
The world tilted. My knees gave out, and Marino caught me before I hit the ground. I pressed my face into his chest, trying to make sense of a reality that had suddenly become too big, too heavy.
"Why?" My voice trembled. "Why would you do all this for me?"
His answer was barely a whisper.
"Because once, in a life you don't remember, you saved me from the darkness. And now… it's my turn."
9. Harbinger (Beyond the Veil)
The first seal had cracked.
I watched the mortal realm from beyond, where light and time had no meaning. The balance faltered, reality shuddered, and for the first time in eons… the threads trembled under the weight of a single choice.
It was almost beautiful.
The Watcher's defiance would bring ruin. Of that I had no doubt. But I found myself wondering — could love truly reshape the cosmos? Could despair be undone?
The thought made me laugh.
"We will see."
[End of Chapter 5 – The Harbinger's Warning]