Nexa City did not panic. It simply vibrated.
The official news broadcasts on the floating holo-displays spoke of a "localized atmospheric instability" near the Aegis Wall—a minor technical glitch in the causal shielding that had already been rectified. But Ryo Kanzaki knew better. He could hear the truth humming in the air, a discordant frequency of collective anxiety that no government sedative could fully suppress.
Ryo stood on the balcony of his penthouse, the 'Obsidian Crow' ink staining his fingertips like a mark of Cain. The Cognitive Echo of the city was thick tonight, a swamp of Surface Echoes: *Is the air thinner? Did the lights flicker? Why is the price of Neuroshards rising?*
"They feel the hole," Ryo whispered to the wind. "They don't know where it is, but they feel the draft."
He turned back to his study. His monitor was dark, but his mind was a kaleidoscope of images—a boy in the mud, a gate made of light turning to dust, and a golden key that screamed in a language older than the Dominion.
[INCOMING ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION: VEIL LEVEL 9 – THE UNDER-LOOM.]
The notification didn't appear on his screen; it burned directly into his retinas. This wasn't a standard invite. This was a summons from the architecture itself.
Ryo didn't hesitate. He sat in his interface chair, the cold leather gripping him. He didn't use a standard Neuroshard. He used a 'Void Shard'—a prototype he had acquired through Mika's black-market connections. He needed the depth. He needed to be closer to the source.
The transition was instantaneous and agonizing.
He didn't materialize in a lounge or a battlefield. He appeared in the 'Under-Loom'—the raw, skeletal framework of the VEIL. Around him, infinite threads of white light stretched into a dark abyss, each thread representing a causal path, a life, a decision. This was where the reality of Enkai Nexum was woven.
And right in front of him, a section of the threads was frayed, glowing with a sickly, bruised violet.
"It's beautiful, isn't it? The sound of a masterpiece unraveling."
Han Seo-Yun stood a few threads away. Her avatar, usually polished and regal, looked fractured here. Her edges were blurred, her eyes two voids of data. She wasn't playing a game; she was witnessing a catastrophe.
"The breach at the wall," Ren (Ryo) said, his voice echoing through the loom. "It wasn't a glitch."
"It was a deletion," Seo-Yun replied, her Echo Hearing reaching out to touch the frayed threads. "Someone—or something—didn't just break the gate. They rejected the logic that allowed the gate to exist. The system is trying to re-thread the path, but the 'Anomaly' is moving too fast. He's creating a blind spot in the causality."
Ren walked toward the frayed section. He could feel the resonance of Rai's act—a cold, hollow sensation. "The Dominion will send the Silencers."
"They've already sent them," Seo-Yun said, looking up into the dark abyss. "But that's not why I called you here, Ren. Look at the Loom. Below the Anomaly."
Ren looked down. Beneath the violet fraying of Rai's path, a much deeper, much darker thread was rising. It wasn't white or violet. It was the color of dried blood, and it was thick with a weight that made the surrounding threads bend toward it.
"Raigen Kurosawa," Ren whispered. "He's crossed into the inner territories."
"He's not just crossing," Seo-Yun corrected, her voice trembling slightly. "He's harvesting. Every step he takes, he's drawing the 'Intent' of the land into that sword. He's turning the history of Valgarde into a physical weight. If he reaches Nexa… the Loom won't just fray. It will collapse under the mass of his grief."
Ren felt a thrill of genuine terror and excitement. The story had escaped the page. The three primary forces—the Author, the Anomaly, and the Curse—were no longer separate chapters. They were colliding in a single paragraph.
"The Dominion is panicking, Ren," Seo-Yun continued, stepping closer. "Seiran Kujo has authorized the 'Neuro-Harvest'. They're going to increase the dosage of shards across the city to create a 'Psychic Shield'. They want to use the minds of the citizens to hold the reality together."
"They're turning the population into a giant causal sandbag," Ren realized. "It will burn out thousands of minds."
"Millions," Seo-Yun said. "Unless we find the Anomaly first. He's the only one who can 'Reject' the shield. He's the only one who can stop the Loom from being choked by the Dominion's greed."
"And what about Raigen?" Ren asked.
"Raigen is the end of the book," she said. "He's the period at the end of the world. We don't stop him. We only hope he dies before he finishes the sentence."
Suddenly, the Under-Loom began to shake. A massive, golden light flared from the abyss—a resonance from the *Tamashii no Kagi*.
[CRITICAL ERROR: EXTERNAL INTERFERENCE. EMERGENCY DE-SYNCHRONIZATION INITIATED.]
"Ren!" Seo-Yun called out as her avatar began to dissolve into static. "The Anomaly is in the city! He's in the Undercity! Find him before Hartmann does!"
***
Ryo woke up in his chair, his heart racing, the metallic taste of the Void Shard lingering on his tongue.
The Undercity.
He stood up, his movements fluid and predatory. He didn't reach for his suit jacket. He reached for his 'Obsidian Crow' pen and a small, concealed blade he kept for "editing" in the real world.
He didn't call Mika. He didn't check the news. He let his Cognitive Echo hearing guide him.
The city was no longer just vibrating. It was beginning to scream.
***
Nexa Undercity: Sector 9 (The Rust Belt)
Rai Kurotsuki walked through the narrow, rain-slicked streets of the Undercity, Hana clinging to his hand. The transition from the mud of the border to the vertical labyrinth of Nexa was overwhelming. Here, the buildings were piled on top of each other like a mountain of trash, held together by glowing cables and desperate prayers.
People here looked different from the refugees. They were gaunt, their eyes glowing with the faint, sickly light of cheap, recycled Neuroshards. They stared at Rai with a mixture of suspicion and hunger.
"Rai, I'm scared," Hana whispered. "The air… it tastes like metal."
"I know," Rai said. He could feel it too. The city felt like a giant machine that was trying to digest him.
But deeper than the metallic air was a sensation he couldn't ignore—a pull. The *Tamashii no Kagi* was warm against his chest, acting as a compass. It wasn't pointing toward a place. It was pointing toward a *person*.
"You shouldn't be here, boy."
Rai stopped. Standing at the end of the alleyway was a man in a rumpled trench coat, lighting a cigarette that smelled of ash and old regrets.
Detective Daniel Hartmann.
Hartmann puffed out a cloud of smoke, his sharp, cynical eyes taking in Rai's ragged clothes, the girl, and the strange, defiant way Rai held himself. Hartmann wasn't a Mind-Gamer, but he had a detective's instinct—a raw, sensory understanding of guilt and power.
"You're the one," Hartmann said, flicking his cigarette into a puddle. "The one who broke the Aegis Wall. I've seen the footage. Well, the footage the Dominion hasn't deleted yet."
Rai stepped in front of Hana, his hand moving toward his pocket. "I don't want any trouble. We just want to live."
"Living is a complicated business in Nexa," Hartmann said, reaching into his coat. He didn't pull a gun. He pulled a small, silver data-tablet. "I'm not here to arrest you. Not yet. I'm here because you're a variable I don't understand. And I hate variables."
He stepped closer, the neon light of a 'Neuroshard' sign reflecting in his tired eyes. "There's a man in this city. A writer. He's been predicting things. Or maybe he's been making them happen. He wrote about a boy who breaks a gate. He wrote about you, Rai."
Rai's eyes widened. "A writer? Who?"
"Ryo Kanzaki," Hartmann said the name like a curse. "He's the golden boy of the Dominion. But I think he's the one pulling the strings. If you want to know why your life is a mess, you find him."
Suddenly, a sharp, cold wind swept through the alley. The puddles on the ground froze instantly.
Hartmann's hand went to his holster. Rai felt the *Tamashii no Kagi* scream in his mind.
A figure emerged from the shadows behind Hartmann. He was tall, elegant, his charcoal suit perfect despite the grime of the Undercity. He held a fountain pen in his hand as if it were a scepter.
Ryo Kanzaki.
"It's rude to talk about someone when they're standing right behind you, Detective," Ryo said, his voice a smooth, terrifying melody.
Hartmann spun around, his gun drawn. "Kanzaki. You're a long way from the penthouse."
Ryo didn't even look at the gun. His gray eyes were fixed on Rai. To Ryo, the boy didn't look like a refugee. He looked like a blank page—the most beautiful, terrifying thing an author could ever see.
"So," Ryo whispered, his Cognitive Hearing absorbing the raw, unrefined power radiating from Rai. "The Anomaly finally arrives. Tell me, Rai… do you like the ending I've prepared for you?"
Rai looked at the man who had turned his suffering into prose. He felt a surge of 'Ketsubetsu'—the power of Rejection—boiling in his blood.
"I'm not a character," Rai said, his voice low and dangerous.
"We are all characters, Rai," Ryo replied, stepping forward, the pen's nib glowing with a violet, cursed light. "The only difference is that I'm the one who holds the ink."
Between the Detective, the Author, and the Anomaly, the air in the alleyway began to fracture.
And ten miles away, at the southern gate of the city, a massive explosion rocked the foundations. A man with a crimson sword had arrived. Raigen Kurosawa didn't use pens or keys. He used blood.
The Loom was about to break.