---
Morning came too quickly.
Kaito had managed maybe two hours of sleep before giving up entirely. He found Yuki already in the common area, surrounded by papers covered in equations and diagrams. She looked worse than he did—hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, three empty coffee cups beside her.
"Did you sleep at all?" he asked.
"Sleep is for people who aren't on a one-week deadline to break a thousand-year-old magical binding." She didn't look up from her work. "I've been running simulations. Theoretically, I could break the harvest binding in seven days. But it would require direct access to the World Altar for extended periods, complete focus, and about three miracles."
"What are the odds?"
"Twenty-three percent. And that's assuming nothing goes wrong, no one interferes, and I don't accidentally cause a catastrophic magical explosion that destroys half the city."
"Those are terrible odds."
"Yes. Which is why I've been exploring alternatives." She finally looked up, and Kaito saw fear in her eyes. "What if the king's offer is real? What if there is a way to survive harvest?"
"You think he's telling the truth?"
"I think he might be telling a truth. The harvest ritual has been performed twenty times. That's a lot of opportunities for experimentation, refinement. Maybe early versions did completely destroy souls, but later iterations were modified. Maybe now it's more like... long-term imprisonment than execution."
"That's still terrible."
"It's less terrible than permanent soul destruction. And much less terrible than a civil war that kills millions."
Kaito sat beside her, looking at her notes. The equations meant nothing to him, but he could see the desperation in how they were written—too fast, too messy, not her usual precise work.
"You're scared," he said softly.
"Of course I'm scared. I was dying of cancer in my old world. I accepted that. Made peace with it. Then I got pulled here, given hope of a second life, and now I'm facing eternal imprisonment in a crystal prison. So yes, I'm terrified."
"We all are."
"Are we though? Ren seems ready to fight. Daichi too. Himari is resolved to do 'whatever's right.' You're the only one who seems to understand that we might actually lose this."
"We won't lose."
"That's faith, not logic. And faith doesn't survive contact with mathematics." She gestured at her notes. "The numbers don't lie, Kaito. We're outmatched, outmaneuvered, and out of time. Our only advantages are powers we barely understand and allies who might be using us."
Before Kaito could respond, the others emerged from their rooms. They all looked exhausted—none of them had slept well.
"We need to decide," Ren said without preamble. "Seven days isn't much time, but it's all we have. Let's lay out our options and vote."
They gathered around the table, and Ren outlined their choices:
**Option One: Accept the King's Offer**
- Cooperate with modified harvest ritual
- Hope it's survivable as promised
- Avoid civil war, keep kingdom intact
- Risk: King might be lying, could end up trapped anyway
**Option Two: Flee to Malachar**
- Ally fully with Demon King
- Help him destroy harvest system
- Trigger civil war, probable fall of Lumina
- Risk: Millions of civilian deaths
**Option Three: Break the System Ourselves**
- Yuki attempts to break binding in seven days
- Requires direct altar access, miracles, perfect execution
- 23% success chance
- Risk: Catastrophic failure could kill more than civil war
**Option Four: Delay and Negotiate**
- Buy more time somehow
- Continue research while appearing compliant
- Risk: King loses patience, binds them immediately
"Those are our options," Ren concluded. "All terrible. But we have to choose."
"I vote option one," Yuki said immediately. "We accept the king's offer. A chance of survival is better than certain death or mass casualties."
"You can't be serious," Daichi said. "You think Aldric is suddenly going to play fair after a thousand years of murdering heroes?"
"I think he's pragmatic. If he's found a way to harvest power without destroying souls, that's actually better for him—reusable resources. It makes logical sense."
"It makes dictator sense," Daichi countered. "He'd have us imprisoned, controllable, unable to resist. That's not survival, that's slavery."
"Slavery is better than death."
"Is it though?"
Himari spoke up quietly. "I vote option three. Yuki's plan. We came here to break the cycle, not to become part of it. We should try."
"At twenty-three percent odds?" Yuki asked. "Himari, I appreciate the faith, but—"
"Faith is all we have. If we accept harvest, we betray everyone who's counting on us. The trapped souls, future heroes, everyone suffering under this system. We have to try."
"Even if trying kills us and triggers the very civil war we're trying to avoid?"
"Yes."
Daichi nodded. "I agree with Himari. Option three. We take the shot."
"Suicide plan," Yuki muttered. "Wonderful."
Ren looked at Kaito. "You're the tiebreaker. What do you think?"
Kaito had been quiet, feeling everyone's emotions, trying to sort through his own. Yuki's fear was genuine—she didn't want to die again, didn't want to lose her second chance. Himari and Daichi's resolve was equally real—they'd rather die trying than live as prisoners.
And Ren... Ren was conflicted. His surface thoughts said option three, but deeper down, Kaito felt something else. Doubt. Fear. And underneath that, the buried trauma of a boy who'd spent his life under someone else's control.
"I think," Kaito said slowly, "that we're missing information. The king said there might be a survivable harvest. But he didn't explain how. What if we demand details before deciding? Make him prove his offer is real?"
"He won't show his hand," Ren said.
"Then we don't agree. We tell him: show us the evidence, or we assume you're lying and act accordingly."
"That's... actually not bad," Yuki said. "Force him to provide proof or call his bluff."
"And if he does provide proof?" Daichi asked. "If he shows us a harvest method that really does preserve souls in a recoverable way?"
"Then we reassess. Maybe survivable imprisonment buys us time to escape later. Maybe it's better than the alternatives."
"Or maybe it's just a prettier prison," Himari said.
"Maybe. But at least we'd know what we're choosing."
They debated for another hour and finally reached consensus: they'd demand proof of the king's offer. If he provided convincing evidence, they'd consider cooperation. If not, they'd attempt option three—breaking the system themselves in the remaining time.
"So who tells him?" Daichi asked.
"I will," Ren said. "He specifically asked to speak with me. I'll request another private audience."
"Not alone," Kaito said immediately. "I'm coming with you. My empathy might pick up something even through his shields."
"I should come too," Yuki added. "I can analyze any magical evidence he presents."
"No," Ren said. "Too many heroes demanding audience looks like intimidation or desperation. Kaito and I go. You three prepare for option three just in case—gather supplies, plan our approach to the altar, get ready to move quickly."
They agreed, though none of them were happy about it.
---
Getting an audience with the king turned out to be surprisingly easy. Ren simply told a palace servant they needed to speak with His Majesty urgently. Within an hour, they were summoned.
This time, the meeting wasn't in the private study but in a more formal chamber—still small, but with guards at the door and an air of official business.
King Aldric sat on a simple throne, looking every inch the ruler. His magical shields were still up, still blocking Kaito's empathy.
"Heroes," he said. "I expected you'd want to discuss my offer. I'm pleased you're being reasonable about this."
"We have questions," Ren said. "You mentioned a modified harvest that might be survivable. We need details. Proof that you're not simply lying to ensure compliance."
"Proof." Aldric smiled slightly. "You want me to reveal centuries of magical research to verify my good intentions. Interesting negotiation tactic."
"It's not negotiation. It's due diligence. You're asking us to trust you with our souls. We need to know what we're agreeing to."
"Fair enough." Aldric gestured, and a servant brought forth a crystal—smaller than the harvest crystals in the catacombs, but similar in design. "This is a prototype. Developed about fifty years ago, after the last harvest. It's designed to trap soul essence without destroying consciousness, allowing for eventual release."
Kaito extended his empathy toward the crystal carefully. Inside was... something. Not a full soul, but a fragment. Conscious, aware, but not in agony like the cathedral prisoners.
"It's dormant," Yuki observed, her analytical eyes studying the crystal. "The consciousness is suspended. Like cryogenic sleep."
"Exactly," Aldric confirmed. "The original harvest method burns souls as fuel—conscious suffering powers the barriers. This method preserves souls in stasis while still tapping their power. Less efficient, but sustainable. And theoretically reversible."
"Theoretically?" Ren pounced on the word.
"I haven't had test subjects willing to try the release mechanism. But the theory is sound—if someone wanted to free you after, say, twenty or thirty years, they could. You'd wake up having lost decades, but intact."
"Twenty or thirty years," Kaito repeated. "That's the timeline?"
"The barriers need reinforcement every fifty years. But with five heroes in stasis and the current trapped souls still providing some power, we could potentially stretch it to thirty years before another summoning is necessary."
"So we sleep for three decades while you use our power," Ren said. "Then what? You release us into a world where everyone we knew is older or dead?"
"Or you stay in stasis permanently, and we release you when we've developed an alternative power source. Either way, you're preserved. Not destroyed."
It was, Kaito had to admit, better than eternal torture. Not good, but better.
"And the currently trapped souls?" he asked. "The hundred in the catacombs? Would you release them too?"
"No." Aldric's voice was flat. "They're already integrated into the barrier network. Releasing them would cause immediate collapse. The city would fall within days."
"So they suffer forever while we get a better deal?"
"They suffer so millions can live. Including you. It's not fair, but fairness is a luxury civilization can't afford."
Kaito felt sick. The king was offering them a better prison while leaving the others to burn.
"I need to verify this," Yuki said. "Examine the crystal, analyze the binding, confirm the theory is actually sound."
"Be my guest." Aldric handed her the crystal. "You have until your deadline to decide. But understand—this offer is contingent on willing cooperation. If you refuse, if you fight, if you try to flee... then you get the original harvest. The painful kind. And I'll ensure you're conscious for every moment."
"That's a threat," Ren said.
"That's a promise. I've been doing this for a very long time, hero. I know how to incentivize cooperation." Aldric stood. "You have six days remaining. Use them wisely."
They were dismissed.
---
Back in their quarters, Yuki immediately began analyzing the crystal. She set it up with her coding vision active, reading the magical structure underneath reality.
"It's... functional," she said after an hour. "The theory is solid. This could work as a preservation method rather than destruction."
"But?" Kaito prompted, hearing the hesitation.
"But there's no guarantee of release. The king says it's 'theoretically reversible,' but I don't see the release mechanism in the binding structure. It might not exist. Or it might be so complex that only someone with Aldric's knowledge could activate it."
"So we'd be entirely dependent on his good will to ever wake up," Ren said.
"Essentially, yes."
"That's not acceptable."
"Neither is dying or starting a civil war. We're back to choosing between terrible options."
They spent the rest of the day debating. By evening, they were no closer to consensus. Yuki and Himari were leaning toward accepting the modified harvest—at least it offered hope of eventual freedom. Ren and Daichi wanted to try breaking the system themselves. Kaito remained undecided.
That night, unable to sleep again, Kaito walked the palace halls. His empathy sense extended outward, feeling the sleeping residents. Most were peaceful. Some had nightmares. A few were awake like him, wrestling with their own problems.
He found himself drawn to the cathedral. The building was empty at this hour, just him and the echoing space. He descended to the catacombs without really planning to, past the wards (which recognized him as a hero), down to the chamber of trapped souls.
One hundred crystals. One hundred people screaming silently.
Kaito approached Elena's crystal and reached out with his empathy.
*Elena? Can you hear me?*
*...Kaito? You're back.*
*I need advice. The king offered us a modified harvest. Stasis instead of torture. We'd be asleep instead of suffering. Should we accept?*
Silence for a long moment.
*Do you trust him to wake you?*
*I don't know. Do you?*
*I trusted the kingdom once. I trusted that if I served well, if I fought bravely, I'd be rewarded. Instead, they killed me and trapped me here.* Her presence felt tired beyond measure. *The king is offering you a better cage, Kaito. But it's still a cage. And he holds the only key.*
*But if we fight, millions might die.*
*Millions are already dying. The war has killed countless innocents over two centuries. At least if you fight, you might end it. Give people a chance at real peace.*
*We could fail. We probably will fail.*
*Then you fail trying to do something right, instead of succeeding at doing something wrong. Isn't that better?*
Kaito didn't have an answer.
He spent an hour there, talking with Elena, feeling the weight of one hundred souls depending on them to make the right choice. Finally, exhausted, he returned to his quarters.
He found the others still awake, gathered in the common area.
"We've been talking," Ren said. "And we've made a decision. Well, most of us have."
"We're trying option three," Himari said. "We're going to attempt to break the system. Yuki thinks if we work together—all five of us using our powers in coordination—we might increase the odds from twenty-three percent to maybe forty."
"Still terrible odds," Yuki admitted. "But better than slavery."
"When?" Kaito asked.
"Three days from now," Ren said. "We need time to prepare, to coordinate, to plan every detail. On the third day, we'll go to the cathedral at dawn, when security is lightest. We'll access the altar, and Yuki will attempt to break the binding while the rest of us protect her and assist however we can."
"And if we fail?"
"Then we fail fighting for something that matters."
Kaito looked at each of them. Ren, determined to never be controlled again. Yuki, terrified but resolute. Daichi, ready to protect them to his last breath. Himari, choosing hope over despair despite terrible odds.
They were his family now. His team. His reason for being here.
"I'm in," he said.
They spent the next three days in careful preparation.
Yuki mapped every aspect of the World Altar's binding structure, creating detailed plans for how to dismantle it safely. She drilled them on their roles—Ren would use commands to keep guards away and assist with the binding, Kaito would use empathy to sense threats and support Yuki's concentration, Daichi would provide physical defense, Himari would keep everyone healthy and energized.
They gathered supplies—food, water, medical kits, weapons they hoped not to need. They studied maps of the cathedral catacombs, planning entry routes and escape paths.
They told no one of their plans. Not Seraphina, who might be forced to report them. Not Celestia, whose network might be compromised. Not Gareth, who might try to stop them for their own protection.
On the second day, Kaito made his rounds through the city one last time. He visited the healing ward where Himari had worked, the training grounds where they'd developed their powers, the market where he'd saved Himari from assassination.
He extended his empathy across the whole city, feeling hundreds of thousands of people living their lives. Most were afraid—fear of demons, fear of war, fear of the barriers failing. But they were also hopeful. They believed the heroes would save them.
*I hope we're worthy of that faith,* Kaito thought.
On the third day, they woke before dawn. They dressed in practical clothes, not the ceremonial hero garb. They armed themselves with swords they'd been training with, though everyone knew their real weapons were their powers.
They gathered in the common area one last time.
"This is it," Ren said. "Once we start, there's no going back. We'll either break the harvest system or die trying. Everyone still in?"
They nodded, one by one.
"Then let's go change the world."
They left the Hero's Wing through a side exit, avoiding guards through a combination of Ren's commands and Kaito's empathic detection. They made their way through the pre-dawn city toward the cathedral.
The building loomed before them, beautiful and terrible. Inside its depths, one hundred souls waited for freedom or death.
They entered through a side door—unlocked, as Celestia had arranged without knowing why they needed it. Down into the catacombs, past the wards that recognized them as heroes, into the chamber.
The World Altar stood before them, white marble pulsing with ancient power. The crystal prisons surrounded it, one hundred souls watching them with desperate hope.
"Positions," Yuki said, her voice steady despite the fear Kaito felt radiating from her.
They took their places. Yuki at the altar itself, hands already moving through complex gestures as she began reading the binding's code. Ren behind her, ready to assist with his command power. Kaito to one side, empathy extended to its maximum range, watching for threats. Daichi at the entrance, enhanced and ready. Himari in the center, her soft humming already beginning to energize them all.
"Beginning deconstruction," Yuki announced. "This will take approximately four hours. No interruptions."
Her fingers moved faster, code appearing in the air—those incomprehensible symbols and patterns that represented reality's underlying structure. She was literally rewriting existence, changing the rules that bound one hundred souls in torment.
For the first hour, nothing went wrong. Yuki worked methodically, Kaito detected no threats approaching, Daichi remained alert, Himari's songs kept them all focused and energized.
The second hour, Kaito felt the first signs of trouble.
"Someone's coming," he warned. "Multiple people. Moving fast. They know we're here."
"How many?" Ren asked.
"Twenty. Maybe thirty. Armed."
"Guards or mages?"
"Both. And someone else. Someone powerful."
They arrived within minutes—palace guards led by Duke Blackwood and three court mages.
"Heroes!" Blackwood's voice echoed through the chamber. "By order of King Aldric, you are under arrest for treason, attempted destruction of kingdom property, and conspiracy against the crown. Surrender immediately."
"Keep working," Ren told Yuki, then turned to face Blackwood. "We're not surrendering. We're ending a system built on murder."
"You're destroying the kingdom's defenses!" One of the mages shouted. "The barriers will collapse!"
"The barriers are built on harvested souls!" Himari's voice rang out, strong despite her fear. "On torture and murder! We're freeing them!"
"You're killing millions!" Blackwood snarled. "Guards, take them down. Use whatever force necessary."
The guards charged.
Daichi met them at the entrance, his enhancement magic flaring to full power as he thought of his siblings, his team, everyone counting on him. He became a wall of muscle and determination, blocking the corridor.
Ren's voice boomed: "STOP!"
Half the guards froze, but the mages had shields against command magic. They began casting—attack spells, binding rituals, counters to Yuki's code-breaking.
Kaito projected terror at them, making their hands shake, their concentration falter. One mage collapsed, overwhelmed by fear. But the other two pushed through, professional training overriding empathy.
Lightning arced toward Yuki.
Himari's song shifted, becoming defensive, and a golden barrier deflected the attack. But the effort made her gasp—it was costing her.
"Yuki, how long?" Ren demanded.
"Two hours! I'm not even halfway through!"
"We can't hold two hours!"
More guards were arriving. Blackwood was shouting orders. The mages were coordinating attacks. Daichi was bleeding from multiple cuts but refused to fall back.
And then Kaito felt it—a presence approaching that dwarfed everything else. Power. Ancient power. Magical shields that even his empathy couldn't penetrate.
"He's coming," Kaito said. "The king. He's coming."
"How long?"
"Minutes."
Yuki's hands moved faster, almost blurring. Code flickered around the altar, reality bending and warping as she rewrote fundamental laws. The crystals were beginning to crack—she was making progress, but not fast enough.
"We need more time," she gasped. "Just... just one more hour..."
They didn't have an hour.
King Aldric arrived.
He entered the chamber calmly, almost casually. Guards parted before him. Blackwood bowed. The mages fell silent.
And Kaito felt it—even through the shields, he felt the sheer magnitude of power the king carried. This was not a normal human. This was something else. Something that had been feeding on hero essence for centuries.
"Children," Aldric said, his voice echoing with unnatural authority. "Stop this foolishness. You cannot win."
"We don't have to win," Ren said, positioning himself between the king and Yuki. "We just have to buy enough time."
"Time?" Aldric smiled. "Very well. Let me show you why time won't save you."
He raised one hand, and reality itself seemed to shudder.