By the third day, the nosebleeds stopped.
The headaches didn't.
They just learned to sit quieter behind his eyes, like an unwelcome guest who had decided to rent a room at the back of his skull.
Shinra stood in front of the corridor wall and looked at himself in the reflection of a framed emergency map.
He didn't look like someone whose seal was cracking.
He looked like… him.
A little tired. A little paler than usual. Hair still refusing to lie flat.
The wall beside the map had changed.
The "gratitude corner," as Kaizen had insisted on calling it, had grown.
More notes now, but ordered—Lila's neat touch. No prayers. No "guardian-sama." Just short, clumsy fragments:
"Thank you for holding the Hub."
"My father came home. That's enough."
"I don't care what Authority calls you. You saved us."
And smaller ones:
"Your power is scary, but losing my family would be worse."
That one, at least, felt honest.
He turned away.
[Headache level: moderate,] Arios reported calmly.
[Seal integrity: reduced from previous baseline but stable for now.]
" 'For now' is doing a lot of work," Shinra said under his breath.
[It usually does,] Arios replied.
His band vibrated.
Yuna's ID pinged.
[Unit 3 – Briefing – Now.]
He pushed off the wall and headed for the stairs.
The briefing room was already occupied.
Yuna stood at the table, arms folded, gaze on the holo-map projected above its surface. Hana was beside her, fingers resting lightly near the controls. Riku sat half-slouched in his usual chair, spinning a pen between his fingers. Daren leaned against the back wall, arms crossed, silent presence filling the corner.
Mizuki was there too, tablet in hand. Kaizen sat on the edge of the table, legs crossed at the ankle, like he was about to make an inappropriate joke at the worst possible time.
"Shinra," Yuna said as he stepped in. She gave him a quick once-over, checking for any obvious wobble.
He didn't give her one.
"You look less like death," Riku said helpfully.
"Encouraging," Shinra said.
Mizuki gestured to the projection.
"Local Breach," she said. "Industrial sector. Size is mid-scale, but readings are… odd."
"Odd how?" Shinra asked, moving closer.
Hana tapped a control.
The map expanded, zooming to a district crisscrossed with broad streets and warehouse blocks. Near the center, a pulsing red marker flickered, its radius ring shimmering unevenly.
"Preliminary scans suggest the spatial distortion is fluctuating," Hana said. "Not stabilizing, not collapsing. It's… feeling around. Like it can't decide on its own shape."
Riku made a face. "That's not terrifying imagery at all."
"Authority?" Shinra asked.
"Busy," Mizuki said. "There's another, more obvious Breach on the opposite side of the city. Higher visibility. They diverted their main strike teams there. They sent us the wonderful message: 'Requesting Sanctum support on secondary anomaly. Estimated impact: contained.'"
"Contained," Riku repeated. "They love that word."
"They also pushed a separate note," Mizuki added. "Specifically asking us to 'avoid unnecessary deployment of Tier 1-level power unless civilian loss becomes imminent.'"
Yuna's lips thinned.
"So, translated," she said, "they're asking us to fix their neglected corner… but please don't let Shinra scare the scanners again."
"Accurate," Mizuki said.
Kaizen swung his foot lazily.
"We won't push you," he said to Shinra. "Your last stunt left enough strain. But," he glanced at the Breach marker, "if this one behaves anything like the last 'odd' one, I'd rather you be there and not need to act than the other way around."
Shinra studied the map.
[Frequency pattern matches partial elements from the previous anomaly,] Arios noted.
[Not identical. Related. Like siblings.]
"You think it will resonate with me," Shinra said inwardly.
[It's likely,] Arios replied.
[But we can treat it as observation this time. You do not need to prod the seal again.]
"You're cleared for deployment," Mizuki said aloud. "But I meant it when I said it last time—stop treating your body like a disposable conduit. If you feel the seal strain, pull back."
"Understood," he said.
She gave him a look that said she would be checking whether he actually did.
Yuna straightened.
"Standard formation," she said. "Unit 3 plus Shinra. No additional squads—we don't want a crowd in a confined area if the anomaly starts doing… creative things. Objectives: keep the distortion from spreading, minimize structural damage, keep Shinra's blood inside his body."
"Is that last one official?" Riku asked.
"It is now," Yuna said.
Kaizen hopped off the table.
"Try not to redecorate," he said. "Mizuki just finished negotiating a better insurance rate."
Mizuki sighed.
"Go," she said. "I'll monitor from here."
The industrial sector greeted them with the smell of metal, oil, and something faintly chemical that probably had a safety sheet somewhere.
Warehouses rose on either side, big blocks of concrete and steel. Some were in use, with logos and busy loading bays. Others stood quieter, their signs faded or removed, purposes repurposed.
The Breach had chosen a cluster of semi-abandoned lots, where old storage units and a disused rail spur intersected.
Locals had set up an outer perimeter—security officers in worn vests and a couple of freelance Ascendants in mismatched gear. They looked relieved when they saw Sanctum.
Or rather, when they saw Yuna and the emblem.
Their relief turned complicated when they saw Shinra.
He could read it in their eyes: We're glad you're here. We're worried you're here.
A woman with a badge that marked her as site supervisor approached.
"Sanctum?" she asked.
"Unit 3," Yuna said, lifting her band. "I'm Yuna, squad lead. We'll take the inside. Status?"
The woman exhaled.
"Breach opened thirty minutes ago," she said. "Started small. It's grown, but… not in a straight line. It flickers. We've had a few entities, but they're… skittish. They keep circling and then pulling back."
"Any injuries?" Hana asked.
"Minor," the woman said. "One Ascendant twisted his leg trying to dodge something that didn't quite hit him. No civilian contact yet. We cleared most of the workers."
"Good," Yuna said. "Keep your teams at the edge. If anything starts spilling out, you fall back and let us handle it."
The woman nodded.
Her gaze landed on Shinra again.
"You're the one from the Hub," she said quietly.
"So I'm told," he replied.
She swallowed.
"We saw the footage," she said. "My sister works in that sector. I'd rather have you scary and here than not at all."
It wasn't a blessing.
It was something closer to resignation.
He inclined his head.
"We'll keep it from spreading," he said.
"I'll hold you to that," she said, then stepped back to let them pass.
They moved in.
The air changed again—thickness, that pressure behind the ears that said things are wrong here. The buildings closer to the Breach showed signs of strain—hairline cracks, flickers in exposed screens, a faint static fuzz in the corners of Shinra's vision.
The anomaly itself floated above the disused rail line, where the tracks curved between two warehouses.
It was larger than the previous "small" one, smaller than the Hub storm.
It distorted the space around it in slow, uneven ripples. Not a neat tear. A smudge.
Entities hovered near it, half-formed—amorphous masses with mask-like hints swirling within. They darted outward occasionally, like testing the air, then snapped back.
They all turned when Unit 3 stepped into clear view.
Then, almost in sync, their indistinct faces angled toward Shinra.
"Of course," Riku muttered. "They have taste."
Shinra ignored him.
Yuna watched the pattern.
"They're not rushing," she said.
"No," Hana agreed. "It's like they're… waiting for a signal."
[They're waiting for you,] Arios said.
[The Breach core is pinging your presence, even though you haven't interfaced with it.]
They're that aware now, Shinra thought.
[The more you touch their root, the more it remembers you,] Arios replied.
One entity drifted closer, then halted mid-space, like it had bumped into an invisible wall.
Shinra realized why.
He was keeping his aura tightly compressed, barely letting it brush beyond his skin.
Even so, the anomaly could feel it.
He took one step forward.
The entities recoiled.
Not dramatically.
But enough that even Riku, perched on a stack of pallets, noticed.
"Okay, that's new," he said. "Usually they want to chew your face. Now they look like they're reconsidering their life choices."
"They're afraid," Hana said softly. "Not of us. Of him."
Daren cracked his knuckles.
"I prefer enemies that know fear," he said.
Yuna weighed the scene.
"All right," she said. "Let's test something carefully. We see what they do when you're closer—without you doing anything you'll regret later."
Shinra's lips twitched.
"I regret most things eventually," he said.
"Try to space it out," she replied.
He walked toward the Breach.
Slow.
He didn't raise his hand this time.
He didn't reach inward for the seal, didn't press on cracks.
He just existed a little nearer.
The entities jittered.
The ones at the edge of the anomaly's influence flattened themselves against the unseen boundary, like they wanted to retreat but were tethered.
Then they did something none of them had seen before.
They parted.
Like a field of tall grass bending away from a passing animal.
They opened a narrow, shifting corridor in front of him, leaving a mostly clear line of sight from his position to the pulsing core.
"…Okay," Riku said. "I have definitely never seen that."
Hana's eyes were wide behind her glasses.
"They're… making way," she said. "Like they're not supposed to block you."
"Or like they're programmed not to," Yuna said quietly.
[This matches late-stage patterns from your era,] Arios said.
[When anomalies began to register your authority as part of their command hierarchy.]
Authority, Shinra repeated in his mind.
Not a title this era understood.
Not yet.
He stopped just shy of where the distortion thickened.
Entities shifted uneasily at the periphery.
He didn't push further.
He just watched.
The Breach pulsed.
A shape flickered inside it—hall? throne? No. Not solid this time. Just the impression of depth.
His head pulsed with it, a dull throb.
But no sharp spike.
He exhaled.
"Can you close this without me?" he asked Yuna, not taking his eyes off the anomaly.
"Probably," she said. "It'll take longer. More damage risk. But yes."
"Then do it," he said. "I'll hold them in place."
Riku whistled. "You can do that now?"
"We'll find out," Shinra said.
He let his aura bleed outward—not much. Just enough to define a field.
He wasn't pushing power.
He was pushing… presence.
The effect was immediate.
The entities froze.
The ones nearest the edge went completely still, their unstable forms stabilizing for the first time since they appeared. The ones further back twisted in place but didn't move forward.
Shinra realized what it felt like.
Not like crushing them.
Like stepping into a hall and having every subordinate straighten without being told.
[They are treating you as a higher priority node,] Arios said.
[Your existence is now part of their operating rules, even if this era doesn't understand how or why.]
I didn't agree to that, Shinra thought.
[The root didn't ask,] Arios said.
"Whatever you're doing," Yuna said, "keep doing it. We'll make the most of it."
She surged sideways, spear forming, and drove it into the flank of one immobilized entity. Normally, the thing would have twisted away or lashed out.
It just… took it.
And collapsed, mask fracturing.
Daren moved in unison, slamming his fist into another. No resistance dance. Just impact and dissolution.
Riku picked the ones further out, shots precise.
Hana shaped barriers not as shields now, but as channels, funneling any stray movements back into the frozen cluster.
Within minutes, the number of entities dropped by half.
The Breach pulsed faster.
Agitated.
"Shinra," Yuna called. "Any trouble yet?"
"No," he said.
It was a lie in the small sense.
His head ached. The weight in his chest increased. The feeling of threads linking him to the anomaly multiplied.
But compared to forcing the seal open, this was… manageable.
For now.
Riku dropped another entity with a shot through its forming mask.
"We should take him to every Breach and just make them stand in timeout," he said.
"That's not how this works," Hana said.
"Let me have my dream," he replied.
They whittled the cluster down to three entities nearest the core.
Those three, unlike the others, did not freeze completely.
They trembled.
Masks turned toward Shinra.
Then, at some invisible signal, they did something that made Hana curse under her breath.
They retreated.
Backwards.
Into the Breach.
Not dragged. Not disintegrating.
Choosing.
The anomaly flared once, bright, and then—
Collapsed.
Not the violent, painful implosion Shinra had forced in the residential district.
A tighter, cleaner fold, as if it had decided it was no longer welcome here.
The weight in the air eased.
The wrongness thinned.
Shinra exhaled slowly and pulled his aura back in.
The ache in his head ebbed.
No blood this time.
No cracking flash of a throne.
Just a lingering echo.
[Interesting,] Arios said.
[It recognized your presence and chose to terminate rather than risk conflict.]
So I'm a deterrent now, Shinra thought.
[Partially,] Arios replied.
[Deterrent, attractor, and catalyst. You're a very versatile disaster.]
He almost smiled.
Yuna approached, spear fading.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yes," he said. "Mostly."
She studied him.
"Scale of one to 'blood fountain,'" she said. "Where are we?"
"Three," he said. "Maybe four."
"I'll take that," she said.
Riku hopped down from his perch, landing with a grunt.
"That was weird," he said. "I vote for more weird that doesn't involve the city almost collapsing."
Hana, breathing a little harder now, nodded.
"I logged the entity behavior," she said. "Mizuki is going to love this."
"She'll scold him first," Riku said, jerking a thumb at Shinra. "Then love the data."
Daren rolled his shoulders. "I liked them better when they were dumb," he muttered.
The site supervisor approached cautiously, flanked by two of her officers.
"Is it… done?" she asked.
"For now," Yuna said. "We'll model for residual risk, but the core is gone."
The woman let out a breath that sounded like it had been held since the Breach appeared.
"Thank you," she said. "Again."
Her eyes found Shinra.
She hesitated.
Then she straightened her shoulders.
"Whatever they say about you on the feeds," she said, "you're the reason my people didn't end up inside that thing. I saw how it reacted when you walked in."
He said nothing.
He didn't know what words would fit.
She nodded once, firmly, as if answering herself, and turned away to coordinate her teams.
Yuna watched her go.
"Word's going to spread," she said.
"It already is," Shinra replied.
It spread faster than he expected.
By the time they returned to Sanctum, snippets had already appeared on public boards.
Amateur footage—shaky, zoomed-in shots from someone who had climbed a stack of crates near the perimeter—showed a dark figure walking toward the Breach, entities parting, then freezing.
Someone had overlayed text:
"The Breach That Backed Down"
Comment threads below it argued.
"That's not natural behavior."
"He scared them."
"No, the guild did it together. Stop saying it's just him."
"Are we sure he isn't controlling the Breaches?"
Mizuki had four different windows open in the operations room, each tracking a different angle on the narrative.
Kaizen sat beside her, chewing on the end of a pen.
"This is a problem," Mizuki said.
"This is publicity," Kaizen said. "Very efficient, very stressful publicity."
She gave him a flat look.
In the corner of one feed, Shinra saw a familiar uniform.
Authority.
Not a full squad.
Just two officers near the outer line, sensors in hand.
They'd stayed out of the way.
They hadn't stayed blind.
[Those devices have upgraded filters,] Arios said.
[They adjusted their scanning protocols after your last encounter.]
What did they see? Shinra asked.
[That your presence alters entity behavior,] Arios said.
[That anomalies de-prioritize other targets when you are nearby. That your interference field reaches further than your visible aura.]
So: more reasons to worry.
Yuna stood with him at the doorway to the operations room while Mizuki and Kaizen tracked the chatter.
"Authority's going to love this," she muttered.
"Love is a strong word," Kaizen said. "They're going to chew on it like a bone and see if it breaks their teeth."
Mizuki didn't look up.
"I'm adding another note to your file," she said to Shinra. "Not the official one. Ours. Internal. 'Do not let him go anywhere alone where a Breach might appear.'"
"That was already there," Yuna pointed out.
"Then I'm underlining it," Mizuki said.
Kaizen straightened, tossing the pen onto the table.
"On the bright side," he said, "you've just given us concrete leverage."
"In what world is that a bright side?" Mizuki asked.
"In the one where we're not the only people who need him alive now," Kaizen said. "Authority, civilians, other guilds—they don't have to like him. They just have to realize that losing him is worse than being afraid of him."
Mizuki frowned thoughtfully.
"…I hate that you're right," she said.
"Comes with the position," he replied.
Yuna glanced at Shinra.
"You all right?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," he said.
She didn't press.
Not here.
Kaizen flicked something from his band to the main display.
An encrypted message unfolded, emblem stamped at the bottom.
A thorned crown.
Obsidian Crown.
"Speaking of people who don't like being out of the loop," Kaizen said.
Mizuki opened it.
The message was short.
"Sanctum.
We saw the footage.
Authority is accelerating Tier 1 control protocols. They proposed emergency measures in last closed council — more leashes, more restrictions.
We opposed. For now.
If they move directly against your Tier 1 under the excuse of 'stability,' we will stand with you.
— Arisa, on behalf of Obsidian Crown."
Riku whistled low.
"Enemy of my enemy is my terrifying friend," he said.
"Rival," Yuna corrected. "Not ally. Not yet."
"Rival willing to bleed on our side is close enough," Daren said from behind them.
Mizuki read the message twice, then filed it into a secure channel.
"This will give Authority a headache," she said.
"Good," Kaizen said. "They've been giving us one for weeks."
Shinra absorbed it.
Obsidian Crown, the supposed hardliners, the guild that believed in strength before equality, openly promising to stand between him and Authority's leash.
Not for his sake.
For the world's.
[Power chooses,] Arios said quietly.
[But so do people.]
Sometimes, Shinra thought.
"Go rest," Mizuki said to Unit 3. "That's an order. We've had enough anomalies for one day."
"If the city disagrees?" Shinra asked.
"Then it can file a complaint," she said. "Preferably tomorrow."
Rest never meant doing nothing.
For Shinra, it meant the training hall.
Not the combat floor this time—no dummies, no target nodes. Just the emptier hall off to the side, where some guild members came to stretch, meditate, or pretend they were not eavesdropping on each other.
He sat on the floor, back against the wall, legs stretched out, eyes half-closed.
He listened to his own breathing.
To the faint hum of Sanctum's systems.
To Arios shifting like a quiet star in the center of his awareness.
[You're thinking too loudly,] Arios said.
I'm thinking quietly, Shinra replied.
[For you, this is loud.]
He exhaled.
"The Breach today," he said inwardly. "It chose to back down."
[Yes.]
"And you said that matches patterns from before," he went on. "From my era."
[Late-stage,] Arios confirmed.
[When the root realized fighting you directly wasted resources.]
"So it started to avoid me," he said.
[Sometimes,] Arios said.
[Sometimes it diverted. Sometimes it tried to corrupt your field instead. Both nearly worked. Once.]
He would've frowned if his face weren't already set.
"Is that what it will try here?" he asked. "If I keep pushing?"
[I don't know,] Arios said.
[This world is not your old one. The root has had a thousand years to adapt. You are the unfamiliar factor this time, not it.]
He opened his eyes.
The training hall lights swam into focus.
Yuna sat across from him a few meters away, stretching one leg out, hand reaching for her foot. She'd come in quietly at some point, giving him space but not leaving.
"You know," she said, straightening. "You do a decent impression of a statue when you sit like that."
"I have experience," he said.
"With sitting?" she asked.
"With being mistaken for something carved," he said.
"Sounds exhausting," she replied.
"It was," he said.
She studied him for a moment.
"You ever regret coming here?" she asked softly. "To Sanctum. To this era."
He thought about it.
"No," he said. "Regret implies there was a better option."
"You didn't have one?" she asked.
"Option one was: stay in the stone," he said. "Option two was: wake up alone somewhere else. Option three…"
"Was us," she finished.
"Yes," he said.
She pulled her knees up, resting her arms on them.
"You know," she said, "the others… they know more than they say."
"About what?" he asked.
"About you," she said. "Not your past. Not your real name or whatever ancient throne you keep seeing in your sleep. But they've felt what you carry. Riku jokes to keep himself from thinking about it too hard. Hana files data to keep it organized in her head. Daren decides you're fine and that's the end of it for him."
"I noticed," he said.
She smiled faintly.
"Of course you did," she said. "What I'm saying is… they're not here because you're strong. Or because Kaizen told them to be. They chose this. Chose you."
He blinked.
"I didn't ask them to," he said.
"You didn't have to," she said. "That's what makes it real."
He looked at her.
"You're very certain," he said. "For someone who met me weeks ago."
"I'm very stubborn," she corrected.
She leaned back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling.
"Power usually gets to choose," she said. "It chooses where to fall. Who to land in. Who to burn through. It decides who gets to stand at the front and who has to watch from behind."
"That's one way of putting it," he said.
"The rest of us," she went on, "we don't get that choice. We get to react. To survive. To adapt to whatever decision power made without our consent."
She tilted her head to look at him sidelong.
"But you," she said, "you're… weird. You have power that would have chosen everything for you. It could have—once. Maybe did. But here? You keep choosing back. You choose who you stand beside. Who you shatter Breaches for. Who you let close. That matters."
"That sounds like responsibility," he said.
"Everything worth anything does," she replied.
He let that sink in.
Yuna didn't say, We trust you. She didn't say, Don't leave us.
She didn't need to.
Finally, he spoke.
"…In my era," he said quietly, "people rarely chose me. They chose what I represented. The crown. The defense. The last wall before the void."
"And you?" she asked.
"I chose them," he said. "Until there was nothing left to choose."
"Do you want this era to end the same way?" she asked.
"No," he said.
"Then when it gets bad—and it will—we're choosing you," she said. "Get used to it."
He huffed out a breath that could have been a laugh if it had more energy behind it.
"I'll try," he said.
Her band buzzed lightly.
She glanced at it, then at him.
"Routine status ping," she said. "City grid. Nothing immediate."
"Give it an hour," he said.
"Optimistic," she replied.
Evening settled.
Sanctum's lights shifted to a softer tone.
Most of the day crews rotated out; night squads prepped in quieter corridors. The cafeteria dimmed to a more relaxed glow, people eating slower, talking softer.
Unit 3 found themselves in one of the smaller side rooms off the main hall, food spread across a low table—a natural magnet for them after missions.
Riku was halfway through a story about a past job that had ended with him falling into a decorative fountain when every band in the room buzzed at once.
Not the usual alert.
A different tone.
Sharper.
Shinra felt it before the sound fully registered.
Something in the city's background rhythm stuttered.
Hana checked her band first.
Her face drained of color.
"…Yuna," she said. "You need to see this."
Yuna's band projected the message automatically into the air between them.
Red.
Not the orange of a high-risk Breach.
Red that meant this is not a drill.
[CITYWIDE ALERT]
[Threat Level: CATASTROPHE-TIER ANOMALY DETECTED]
[Location: Central Convergence Zone]
[All registered guilds: respond with highest-capacity units. Authority Strike Teams en route.]
Additional lines scrolled below, fragmented as the system strained to push information fast enough.
[Multiple Breach points merging.]
[Anomaly scale: unprecedented in current era.]
[Civilian evacuation protocol: FULL.]
Riku's joking expression fell clean off.
Daren straightened, chair scraping back.
"This is wrong," Hana whispered. "The scale… That's not supposed to be possible without a precursor chain."
"Maybe we missed the chain," Yuna said, voice steady even as her eyes sharpened. "Or maybe the rules are changing faster than we thought."
Shinra's head throbbed once, hard.
Images tried to surface—skies breaking, cities swallowed, that same hall splitting in half.
[Signature match: high,] Arios said quickly.
[This anomaly is closer to your era's final events than anything we've seen so far.]
How close? Shinra asked.
[Too close for comfort. Not close enough to be the same event. But… a rehearsal.]
Yuna stood.
"We're going," she said.
"Obviously," Riku said, already on his feet.
Hana took a breath, steadying herself. "…I'll adjust barrier configs on the way," she said. "We'll need more layers."
Daren flexed his hands once. "I'll aim for not getting erased," he said.
They all looked at Shinra.
He met Yuna's gaze.
"Can you move?" she asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Can you fight?" she pressed.
He thought of nosebleeds, of micro-fractures in the seal, of Breaches that now recognized his presence like a command embedded in code.
Of a city that still didn't know his name.
"Yes," he said again.
Yuna nodded.
"Then we'll stand," she said. "Like always."
She lifted her band to her mouth.
"Unit 3 responding," she said into the channel. "Sanctum's Tier 1 included. We're heading to the Convergence Zone."
On the other end, Mizuki's voice came through, clipped but controlled.
"Understood," she said. "Kaizen is mobilizing. Obsidian Crown and Apex Radiant have both confirmed deployment. Authority wants coordinated channels. It's going to be crowded."
"Better than empty," Yuna replied.
She cut the line.
Shinra rose.
The world outside had gone very, very quiet—
the particular silence that comes
right before everyone starts running.
[Great Master,] Arios said,
[the power on the other side of this anomaly… it knows you.]
I know, Shinra thought.
He followed Yuna and the others out into the corridor, boots striking the floor in unison.
Sanctum's emblem watched them pass.
So did the city, in its own way.
For days now, power had been forcing its choices on them.
Tonight, the Breach chose to come for the heart.
Tonight, Shinra would have to choose how much of himself he was willing to show
to keep this era standing.