The desync didn't explode.
It bled.
Color drained from the edges of the courtyard, like the world was losing confidence in itself. Sounds arrived half a second late. Gravity felt optional.
Ren staggered.
Not from pain—
From weight.
[ROLE ACTIVE: The One Who Chooses]
Warning: Choice carries consequence.
Load transferred to consciousness.
His knees nearly buckled.
Abinaya caught his arm.
"Ren—this is too much. You're not meant to—"
"I know," he said through clenched teeth.
"But neither were you."
Rakesh watched them in silence.
No golden script.
No authority display.
Just observation.
"…So this is what happens," he said slowly, almost to himself.
"When the system stops deciding for you."
The lattice above the sky trembled again.
A branch collapsed.
Far away—too far to see, but close enough to feel—
someone screamed, then stopped existing.
Abinaya gasped.
"…A rollback failed."
Ren froze.
"What?"
She closed her eyes, focusing hard.
"A small one. A minor correction. A person who should've reset… didn't align properly."
Rakesh nodded grimly.
"That's the cost," he said.
"When outcomes aren't enforced, failure becomes real."
Ren's stomach dropped.
"So people can die for real now."
"Yes," Rakesh said simply.
"And stay dead."
Silence stretched.
This—
this—
Was why the system existed.
Not cruelty.
Fear.
Ren swallowed.
"How many?" he asked quietly.
Rakesh met his eyes.
"If you continue like this?"
"…Eventually, everyone."
Abinaya turned sharply.
"That's not true."
Rakesh raised an eyebrow.
"Isn't it?"
She stepped forward, voice firm despite the tremor in her hands.
"The system resets because it can't weigh lives. It treats every outcome as unacceptable unless it's perfect."
She looked up at the fractured sky.
"But perfection is just indecision with authority."
The lattice shuddered again.
Two branches stabilized.
One didn't.
Ren felt it.
A name slipping through his fingers—someone he'd never met, but somehow knew.
His head rang.
"Abinaya," he whispered.
"I don't know if I can carry this."
She took his hand and pressed it against her chest.
"Then don't carry it alone," she said.
"That was the system's mistake."
Rakesh laughed softly.
A tired sound.
"…You really don't understand how deep this goes," he said.
"There are other Enforcers. Other layers. Entire worlds built on the promise that nothing is permanent."
Ren looked at him.
"Then why are you still standing here?"
Rakesh hesitated.
Just for a moment.
"…Because," he said quietly,
"for the first time, I don't know what the correct ending is."
The sky cracked wider.
Not violently.
Deliberately.
And through the opening—
Not a god.
Not a system.
But a presence that felt unfinished.
[PRIME PROCESS — ATTENTION REGISTERED]
Abinaya's breath hitched.
"That's… not supposed to wake up yet."
Ren stared upward.
"What is it?"
She swallowed.
"The thing the system was built to protect reality from."
Rakesh turned pale.
"…No," he whispered.
"You woke the Architect."
The world held its breath.
Not in fear.
In anticipation.