Ren's hand hovered over the luminous surface, trembling. The ache in his skull throbbed, but that wasn't what made him hesitate. It was the weight of her words:
'That which shapes thee, yet is thine alone.'
'What could that possibly mean?' Ren thought of the countless things that had defined him. 'Everything that has made me who I am...If I surrendered a piece, I would lose myself...But what would be taken? Memories of my past? Mom? I-I don't want that to happen...I can't.'
Each thought tightened his fist against the binding wall.
He wanted to say 'I can't' aloud.
Ren didn't know what he couldn't give up, because it wasn't clear what would be taken.
Meanwhile, Eva's hand lingered atop his, light and trembling.
'And what about her? She remembers so little of her past...Who she really was. I don't want her losing what little she may have left. What if she loses her will? What if I lose mine?!'
His mind flashed to the worst possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.
'But...even if I were to lose...some part of me. What if the 'me' that has endured the pain, the 'me' who feels, that resists—remains untouched? That's still me...I would still be me.'
Ren looked over to Eva. She didn't know all that he still had, all that could be taken. She had so little past to lose, so few fragments to fear being taken from her. She couldn't understand.
Eva tried to recall anything from her past, but only fragments drifted in and out, pieces that didn't fit together. Names, faces, sounds of laughter—but none of them felt real, not hers.
'What would it take from me? I can't even remember who I was...Would I even notice if it took something? I have so little…Yet, somehow, I feel…more now? More than those scraps of memory ever gave me. This. Here. Now. It's real.' She felt the warmth of Ren's hand under hers. 'Ren is real. He's still here. We're still here. I don't need a past to know that this is mine. This—him—is all I need. This present...This feeling of being with him...That is everything I have left. If I lose it. If I lose him. What would I become?' And then the tiniest flicker of certainty within her mind. 'No. No matter what it asks, no matter what it takes. If I am with him, then I am not lost.'
Eva turned, meeting Ren's concerned gaze.
'He needs to know that I'm here. That I'm not going to leave him.'
She tightened her grip on his hand.
"Ren, we'll face it together...Whatever it takes."
The trembling in his hand stopped.
"…Fine," He whispered, voice stern. "Whatever it takes…then take it."
"Are you certain, child?" The angelic voice spoke. "Is this thou final judgement?"
'I won't break from losing one part of me...But if this takes from her. What will—'
"Take it," Eva spoke, loud and clear. "If it must be given…then take what you must."
The ache in their minds vanquished, the restriction coming from the barrier.
"…Very well."
The light beneath their palms shifted—no longer radiance but a blinding, consuming brilliance. It crawled up Ren's arm, threading through his veins like molten glass.
The brilliance didn't stop, slithering up, wrapping around his mind.
And brilliance turned to darkness, swallowing Ren whole.
Not the violent darkness of Nocstella—no whispers, nor malicious intent.
An infinite abyss.
Weightless.
Silent.
No sound. No pain. No self.
Ren drifted, weightless, arms suspended as though held by invisible water.
'...This feeling…'
That strange feeling after his death.
From a failing body to floating tranquility.
The same darkness enveloped him.
'...It feels nice...'
Each crisp breath passed through his chest with perfect clarity. There was no scent, no hint of the world he'd come from. Only the faint sensation of floating along on an invisible tide.
And above—
An all-seeing eye.
A single, massive eye of unimaginable size.
Pupil crystalline and perfectly round.
Iris shimmering with a hue of pale, icy blue.
It watched, never blinking.
Ren floated beneath it like a speck of dust before a moon. He could not tell if it was close or impossibly far. The darkness made distances meaningless.
Then, the buoyancy disappeared, and Ren began to sink.
The eye remained where it was as he fell, its blue fading into the darkness.
Even that disappeared, the darkness thickening.
The crisp air filling Ren's lungs thinned out, and drained away as though being stolen from him. His chest tightened. A cold pressure squeezed his ribs. His throat convulsed—nothing.
He tried to inhale again.
No result.
His body spasmed, instinct clawing at emptiness. The sensation of drowning struck him.
Not with water, but with a crushing vacuum.
His lungs burned. His vision blurred at the edges.
Pressure built behind his skull, a ringing that grew louder and sharper until it became unbearable. His limbs grew numb. His vision darkened. His senses collapsed inward.
His eyes finally closed.
Then—
A sudden gasp, Ren's eyes snapped open as air slammed back into his lungs. He choked, coughing in pain as he curled forward, sucking in each desperate breath he could find.
DRIP
Beneath him, a carpet stained with black splotches.
DRIP
Ren pushed himself up onto his knees, coughing hard as his breathing steadied.
DRIP
He swallowed and whispered, voice hoarse—
"…Eva?"
Silence answered him.
DRIP
The room around him was small and windowless, walls crowded with towering wooden shelves stuffed with books—some pristine, others melted into black sludge.
Pages littered the floor like fallen leaves, and ink leaked through the roof above.
"…Eva?!"
Still nothing.
Ren staggered to his feet, pushing his hand against the nearby shelf for balance.
"Where are you?"
He took a step toward the nearest shelf, fingers brushing the spine of a half-melted book. The leather cover sagged against his touch, leaving a thin black smear across his skin. He wiped it off on his pants, but it clung to fingers stubbornly.
DRIP
Ren moved through the scattered pages on the ground, some sticking to his boots like tar.
DRIP
There was a single door ahead—heavy wood, iron hinges warped with age.
Ren closed his hand around the handle.
The hinges groaned as he pulled—
—and the door slowly opened into the unknown.