The altar did not flare.
It waited.
Light pooled faintly within the shallow depression, veins glowing with restrained intent, as if the realm itself had folded its arms and decided to see what Alaric would do next.
He did not rush.
Rushing was how foundations shattered.
Alaric knelt a short distance from the altar, careful not to let his weight press too heavily against the fractured lines beneath the stone. His breathing slowed deliberately irregular, uneven, refusing rhythm.
Xue watched him from where she leaned against a pillar, face pale, lips stained with dried blood. "You're planning something," she said quietly.
"Yes."
"That's not reassuring."
He glanced at her. "It shouldn't be."
The fractured beast core rested in his palm, cold and uneven. Its internal cracks pulsed faintly, no longer violent but unsettled responsive.
Alive.
"This place doesn't want offerings," Alaric murmured. "It wants proof."
"Of what?" Xue asked.
"Failure," he replied. "Acknowledged. Contained. Not denied."
He extended his hand and lowered the beast core into the altar's depression.
The moment it touched stone, the realm reacted.
Not violently.
Selectively.
The air thickened just enough to make breathing laborious. Lines across the cavern floor brightened and rearranged, incomplete arrays shifting position like thoughts changing direction.
Alaric felt pressure press inward testing his foundation again, but this time without hostility.
He did not resist.
He did not submit.
He allowed the instability to surface.
Pain bloomed across his chest as his fractured foundation responded, meridians screaming as qi surged unevenly. He bit down hard, refusing to regulate it into harmony.
The altar brightened.
Xue gasped as pressure brushed against her as well, tugging at the partial seal near her heart.
"No," Alaric said sharply. "Don't circulate."
"I'm not!" she snapped, voice breaking. "It's pulling on its own!"
The altar pulsed.
A thread of light extended outward not toward Alaric.
Toward Xue.
Her eyes widened. "Why me?"
Alaric's pulse quickened.
Because she was more broken.
Because her instability was more pronounced.
Because this place recognized her as relevant.
The thread of light brushed her chest.
Xue screamed.
Qi surged violently from her heart, tearing through the fragile suppression she had been maintaining. Blood spilled freely now, her body convulsing as pain overwhelmed restraint.
Alaric moved instantly.
He placed his hand over the altar's edge not pressing down, but interrupting the thread's alignment.
"Too much," he hissed. "Too fast."
The realm resisted.
Pressure slammed inward, crushing, merciless.
Alaric's foundation convulsed violently. Blood burst from his mouth as his knees hit the stone.
Still, he didn't pull away.
Instead, he misaligned.
He let his fractured foundation resonate not stabilize with the altar's incomplete structure.
The pressure wavered.
The thread of light flickered.
Then split.
Half remained anchored to the beast core.
Half brushed Xue's chest lighter now, tentative.
Her scream cut off abruptly, replaced by ragged gasps as the tearing pain dulled into something deeper, heavier.
Grinding.
The altar dimmed.
The cavern exhaled.
Silence returned.
Alaric collapsed forward, palms flat against stone, vision swimming violently. Every breath felt like fire.
He was shaking.
Xue slumped sideways, barely conscious, chest rising and falling unevenly.
For a long moment, neither moved.
Then
A soft sound.
Not from the altar.
From within Xue.
Alaric forced his head up.
Her aura had changed.
Not stronger.
Clearer.
The violent fluctuations had slowed, settling into a rough but stable rhythm. The partial seal near her heart was no longer tearing it had fused imperfectly, no longer suppressing, but guiding.
She had not been healed.
She had been… restructured.
Alaric laughed weakly, then coughed hard enough to double over.
"So that's the price," he murmured.
Xue's eyes fluttered open. "What… did you do?"
"Very little," he said hoarsely. "The realm did the rest."
She swallowed, testing her breath. Pain remained but it was no longer catastrophic.
"This place," she whispered, "it didn't fix me."
"No," Alaric agreed. "It made your failure survivable."
The altar pulsed faintly again.
Not aggressively.
Expectantly.
The fractured beast core lay motionless within its depression but its internal structure had changed. The cracks were no longer chaotic.
They formed a pattern.
Not refinement.
Reclassification.
Alaric pushed himself upright, legs trembling.
"This wasn't a reward," he said. "It was a demonstration."
Xue struggled to sit up beside him. "Demonstration of what?"
"That the realm will engage," he replied. "But only on its terms."
"And those are?"
Alaric looked at the altar, at the shifting arrays, at the sealed darkness beyond.
"It will not grant power," he said quietly. "Only consequences."
The ground trembled softly.
From below.
Something stirred again.
Not the remnant from before.
Something else.
Something closer.
The proto–secret realm had accepted them as participants.
And participation meant escalation.