It wasn't painful, exactly.
But it was overwhelming.
The orbuculum flared brilliant white—so bright that everyone in the chamber had to shield their eyes. The runes on the walls blazed in response, trying to contain the surge of energy, and for a moment the whole room vibrated with barely-suppressed power.
Piers felt the orb reaching into him.
Not physically. Deeper than that.
It was reading him. Analyzing him. Trying to categorize what he was.
And finding... something.
[NULL SYSTEM - ALERT]
[EXTERNAL SCAN DETECTED]
[SACRED ARTIFACT ATTEMPTING SOUL ANALYSIS]
[DEFENSE PROTOCOLS: PASSIVE]
[WARNING: PAST LIFE DATA MAY BE EXPOSED]
The light intensified.
And then—
Caelus, who had been standing at a safe distance, suddenly gasped and stumbled forward. His hand shot out and touched the orb beside Piers', drawn by some compulsion he couldn't resist.
The moment his skin made contact, his eyes went white.
And he saw.
Darkness.
A cell. Stone walls slick with moisture and things worse than moisture.
Chains. Heavy iron chains on the floor.
And a boy.
Older than Piers was now. Maybe ten. Maybe twelve. Thin. Hollow-eyed. He had the look of someone who'd stopped hoping a long time ago.
The boy sat in the center of the cell, motionless, as figures moved around him in the shadows.
They were doing something to him.
Cutting. Testing. Breaking.
Not out of cruelty—or not entirely out of cruelty.
They were studying him. Trying to understand what he was. What made him special.
The boy didn't scream.
Didn't cry.
Just sat there, those grey eyes staring at nothing, while they carved him apart piece by piece.
Seven years.
Seven years of this.
Until there was nothing left inside him but emptiness.
Caelus yanked his hand away from the orb like he'd been burned, gasping, stumbling backward until he hit the wall.
"Another life. Another time. But unmistakably the same soul."
The light faded.
The chamber fell silent.
Xylia pulled Piers away from the orbuculum, her own face pale but determined. Piers blinked up at her, his expression as blank as always, giving no indication of what—if anything—he'd experienced.
"Caelus?" Rigas was at his side immediately, steadying him. "What happened?"
Caelus was trembling. His face had gone from pale to gray, and there was something haunted in his eyes that hadn't been there before.
"What..." he whispered. "What is this child?"
"Caelus—"
"No child should carry such a weight." The bishop's voice was barely audible. "No one should carry that. The things I saw—"
He cut himself off, looking at Piers with something between horror and profound pity.
"What did you see?" Xylia asked quietly.
Caelus shook his head. "I... I cannot. I should not. It's not my place to—" He pressed his hands to his face, trying to compose himself. "That child has suffered. More than any being should suffer. And the scars—they're not just physical. They're soul-deep."
Silence hung in the chamber.
Styx, who'd been watching everything with wide eyes, moved closer to her brother and took his hand. She didn't understand what was happening, but she knew Piers needed her.
Piers looked down at their joined hands and felt... something. Faint and distant, but there.
[NULL SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[EMOTIONAL RESPONSE DETECTED: COMFORT (RECEIVED)]
[VOID CORRUPTION: 44% → 43.8%]
Rigas helped Caelus into a sitting position against the wall. The bishop was breathing harder now, getting himself under control through sheer force of will.
"I apologize," Caelus said after a moment. "That was... unexpected. The orbuculum sometimes shows things beyond simple aptitude. Glimpses of the soul's journey. But I've never experienced anything quite so..." He trailed off, unable to find words.
"Can you help him?" Xylia asked, her voice steady but her eyes desperate.
Caelus looked at Piers for a long moment. Then he stood, smoothing his robes, his professional mask sliding back into place though his hands still shook slightly.
"I don't know, What I saw suggests trauma that transcends normal healing. But—"
He stopped.
His eyes had gone to the orbuculum.
The crystal sphere was still glowing faintly, colors swirling within its depths. Colors that were growing brighter. More intense.
"That's not normal," Rigas said slowly.
"No," Caelus agreed. "It should have powered down by now."
The orb pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
The light inside it began to concentrate, growing from a soft glow to something sharper. Hotter.
"EVERYONE BACK!" Caelus shouted. "GET AWAY FROM THE—"
The orbuculum erupted with light so intense it was nearly solid. The runes on the walls blazed in response, trying to contain it, but whatever was happening was beyond their design parameters.
Cracks appeared in the crystal surface.
"It's going to explode!" Caelus was already moving, herding the family toward the door. "We need to evacuate the chamber—"
Rigas looked at the orb. At his family. At the door.
Then he grinned.
"Or, we could solve this another way."
Before anyone could stop him, he crossed the chamber in two long strides and grabbed the orbuculum with both hands.
"RIGAS, NO!" Xylia shouted.
Too late.
The moment his hands closed around the crystal, Rigas launched himself upward.
Not jumped. Launched.
With force that shattered the stone beneath his feet and sent him rocketing toward the ceiling like a human cannonball.
He hit the ceiling.
Went through it.
Kept going.
The sound was tremendous—stone and wood and whatever else was between the testing chamber and the surface exploding outward as Rigas carved a perfect Rigas-sized hole through every floor, every ceiling, every obstacle between underground and sky.
In the testing chamber, dust and debris rained down. Xylia had thrown herself over both children, shielding them from falling stone. Caelus had pressed himself against the wall, staring up at the hole in utter shock.
From above—far above—they heard Rigas' voice, distant but still audible:
"HEADS UP!"
And then, faintly, the sound of something being thrown.
Very, very hard.
Into the sky.
[ATTECHMENT INCREASED:]
RIGAS: 21% (+6%)
XYLIA: 20% (+5%)
STYX: 20% (+4%)