Kai woke to the smell of coffee and the low hum of the Spire's vents. Gray morning light filtered through the windows, turning the city below into a hazy smear of steel and sea. His ribs ached, shoulder throbbed, but the Sync Strain was quiet—just a faint pressure in his chest, like a string tied to something three meters away.
Aria was already up, standing at the kitchenette counter in the same clothes from yesterday. Hair still tied back, but a few strands had escaped, softening the edges. She poured coffee into two mugs without looking at him.
"Figured you'd want one," she said. Voice neutral, like she was offering ammo, not caffeine.
Kai sat up slowly, blanket pooling around his waist. "Didn't peg you for a morning person."
"I don't sleep much." She slid one mug across the counter. Exactly three meters. The tether allowed it.
He took it. Black, strong. Perfect. "Thanks."
They drank in silence. Not hostile—just careful. Like two stray cats sharing the same alley.
Kai nodded toward the fridge. "Any chance there's actual food in there? Or is Crown on a liquid diet?"
Aria opened it without comment. Eggs, bacon, bread. Real stuff. She cracked eggs into a pan like she'd done it a thousand times. Kai watched her move—efficient, no wasted motion. Guild training, probably.
"You cook?" he asked.
"Had to learn. Crown dorms don't come with chefs until you hit A-rank." She flipped the eggs one-handed. "You?"
"Mom taught me basics. Mostly ramen hacks." He rubbed the back of his neck. "This feels weird. Domestic."
Aria's spatula paused. "It's fuel."
"Yeah. Fuel." He smirked. "Super romantic."
She shot him a look—half glare, half something else. The corner of her mouth twitched. Not quite a smile.
They ate at the counter, plates pushed to opposite ends. Bacon crunched. Coffee steamed.
Halfway through, the system chimed softly in both their visions.
[Emotional resonance sustained.
Sync Efficiency: 25% → 28%
Stage 1 progress: 11% → 19%
Passive unlocked: Minor Sync Pulse (voluntary stamina share, low volume)]
Aria froze, fork halfway to her mouth.
Kai read it twice. "We can… lend battery now? Without almost dying?"
She set the fork down carefully. "It's still a risk. Backlash if overdone."
"But it's something." He met her eyes. "Progress."
Aria looked away first, out the window. "Don't get cocky."
The door chimed at 0655. Guards escorted them down—same corridors, same sterile air. Rook waited in a smaller briefing room, no Shen this time. Just him, a holo-table, and two chairs pulled close.
He looked like he hadn't slept either. Scars stood out sharper in the harsh light.
"Morning," he said. "Mirror Trial's been moved up. 0730. Rogue Gate spawned three blocks from the Spire last night—closest ever to North Spire. Crown's rattled. They want data on your sync under real pressure."
Kai's stomach tightened. "The siren. That was it?"
Rook nodded. "Micro-gate, but unstable. Registry's calling it natural. I'm not." He tapped the table; a holo of the new Gate flickered up—violet edges already fraying. "Trial's inside this one. Custom rules. System's overriding."
Aria leaned forward. "Mirror Domain. One truth per room."
"Exactly." Rook's eyes flicked between them. "Domain spawns chambers. Each chamber shows you a mirror—literal or not. Reflects something true. You speak it aloud, door opens. Lie, or stay silent too long…" He drew a thumb across his throat. "Penalty. Damage scales with the lie's weight."
Kai swallowed. "What kind of truths?"
"Personal. Painful. The kind you bury." Rook's voice roughened. "Previous pairs cracked here. Couldn't say it. Or couldn't hear it."
Aria's fingers curled on the table. "And if we clear it?"
"Pruning Phase ends. You live. Bond stabilizes." Rook hesitated. "Maybe hits Stage One for real."
The countdown in Kai's vision blinked.
23:41:09
Rook stood. "One rule from me: the mirrors feed on isolation. You'll be separated unless you fight it. Sync's your only rope."
Guards moved in to escort them to the gate chamber.
As they walked, Aria's voice came low, just for him. "Whatever it shows… don't trust it completely."
Kai glanced at her. "You scared?"
She didn't answer. But her hand brushed his sleeve—barely contact, gone in a second.
The gate chamber doors hissed open. The Rogue Gate waited inside its containment field, violet light pulsing like a heartbeat.
And deep in the system overlay, new text scrolled—cold, clinical, addressed to both:
[Mirror Trial commencing.
First chamber: Childhood.
Speak the fear you never named.]
The gate flared.
They stepped through together.
And the world split.
(To be continued…)