The Origin Layer did not sleep.
It drifted.
Masses of fractured terrain glided slowly through one another, passing without collision, as if reality itself were uncertain whether interaction was still required. Gravity behaved like a suggestion. Light bent, hesitated, then chose a direction on instinct rather than rule.
And at the center of that uncertainty, Sarah stood awake.
She had not slept.
Not because she could not—but because for the first time since her reincarnation, nothing compelled her body to shut down, reset, or optimize recovery cycles. Fatigue existed now as a choice. Awareness as a burden.
She sat at the edge of a floating platform, knees drawn close to her chest, bare shoulders exposed to the ambient glow of the Layer. Her clothing had long since adapted itself—no longer generated by system templates, but shaped unconsciously by her own perception of herself. Soft. Minimal. Intimate without intention.
Real.
Behind her, the others rested.
Rias lay curled slightly on her side, one arm thrown loosely over Akeno's waist. Akeno herself was half-awake, eyes closed but breathing attuned to every fluctuation in Sarah's presence. Koneko sat upright, meditating—not because she had to, but because she preferred clarity. Rossweisse slept lightly, fingers twitching occasionally as if still trying to cast spells that no longer existed in the same way. Xenovia stood watch, as she always did.
Lilith Fragment hovered nearby, unusually subdued.
"You're unraveling," Lilith observed calmly.
Sarah did not look back. "I'm feeling."
"That is often indistinguishable from structural instability in beings like you."
Sarah smirked faintly. "You sound worried."
"I am recalculating," Lilith replied. "There is no longer a model for you."
Silence stretched.
Sarah hugged her knees tighter. "When the system was there… every doubt was immediately answered. Every fear got smoothed over by numbers and probabilities. Even pain had meaning."
"And now?"
"Now pain is just pain," Sarah said quietly. "Desire is just desire. And choice doesn't come with guarantees."
Lilith drifted closer. "You wanted this."
"I still do."
That was the terrifying part.
Behind her, Rias stirred.
She rose slowly, deliberately, as if afraid sudden movement might shatter something fragile. She approached Sarah without words and sat beside her, their shoulders brushing.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Rias reached out and gently took Sarah's hand.
There was no surge.
No lattice amplification.
No Desire Field activation.
Just warmth.
Sarah's breath caught—not from pleasure amplified by a system, but from something far more destabilizing.
Intimacy without conversion.
"I can feel you trembling," Rias said softly. "Not power. You."
Sarah let out a shaky breath. "I don't know how to be this version of myself yet."
Rias turned fully toward her. Her gaze was steady, unarmored. "Then don't be it alone."
She leaned in—not hurried, not strategic—and pressed her forehead against Sarah's. Their noses brushed. Breath mingled.
The contact sent a ripple through Sarah's body that had nothing to do with Ascension.
Her pulse spiked.
Her thoughts scattered.
She wanted—wanted—without knowing what that want would become.
Akeno's voice drifted lazily from behind them. "Mmm… I leave you alone for one existential crisis and suddenly it's all tender and serious."
Sarah huffed a weak laugh. "You were listening."
"Of course," Akeno replied, opening one eye. "The absence of system noise makes everything louder."
She rose and joined them, sliding in close on Sarah's other side, fingers tracing idle, affectionate patterns along Sarah's thigh. Not activating. Not drawing power.
Just touching.
"That's the danger," Akeno continued. "Without the system, your bonds don't fuel strength automatically. They fuel… attachment."
Koneko opened her eyes. "Attachment leads to vulnerability."
Xenovia nodded once. "And vulnerability leads to loss."
The words hung heavy.
Sarah swallowed. "So this is the price."
Lilith inclined her head. "Yes."
Rias squeezed Sarah's hand. "And it's worth paying."
The Origin Layer pulsed again—but this time, the sensation was wrong.
Sharper.
Colder.
Xenovia's hand went to her sword instantly. "We're not alone."
Rossweisse was awake in a second, eyes wide. "I felt that. That wasn't residual instability."
Lilith's form stiffened.
"…No," she said slowly. "That was observation."
Far beyond the fractured horizon, something moved—not breaking reality, not announcing itself. Simply aligning.
A presence that did not impose order like the Architect had.
But neither did it embrace chaos.
It was curious.
Calculating in a different way.
Sarah stood, heart pounding—not with system-augmented readiness, but with raw instinct.
"No titles," she said quietly. "No ranks. No scripts."
She looked at each of them in turn.
"But I choose this. I choose you. And I choose to face whatever comes next as myself."
Akeno smiled—sharp, proud, dangerous.
Rias nodded, eyes burning with devotion.
Koneko clenched her fists.
Rossweisse inhaled, steadying herself.
Xenovia raised her blade.
Lilith Fragment watched Sarah with something dangerously close to admiration.
"Then understand this," Lilith said. "What approaches will not test your power."
A pause.
"It will test your identity."
The Origin Layer darkened subtly, as if something vast had shifted between worlds.
Sarah squared her shoulders.
"No system," she repeated.
Her aura ignited—not explosively, not cleanly—but honestly.
"Then whatever comes next," she said, voice steady, "will face me."
And for the first time, the future did not unfold.
It waited.