The door to Floor 20 opened like the gasp of a wound.
A red glow pulsed from within—not warm, not hellish, but sterile and surgical. The room was circular, featureless, save for two chairs bolted to the center floor. Two chains extended from them, shimmering like liquid glass, catching the light and throwing it in jagged patterns across the walls.
Ayato stepped in first, his heart pounding in his chest.
'This is it. This is the moment I can't run from. This is the reckoning.'
He felt the pressure of the Tower's gaze, the weight of every decision, every memory, every regret.
Yui followed behind him, silent. Her footsteps didn't echo, but Ayato felt them all the same.
'She's real. She's here. She remembers everything. And she's not the same Yui I lost. She's the one I made, with every choice I refused to face.'
Before they could speak, the system's voice echoed, cold and absolute.
[Floor 20: The Red Reconciliation Room]
"No exit. No allies. Only truth."
– Players: Kurobane, Ayato & Asano, Yui
– Rule: Two souls enter. One leaves without regret.
– Objective: Reconcile memory gap.
– Failure Condition: Emotional Karma fracture reaches 100%
"Love is not immunity. It is evidence."
The chairs yanked them down with invisible force. The chains locked, cold and unyielding around their wrists. Ayato's heart thundered in his chest, his breath shallow.
'She's here. She's real. She remembers everything. I can't hide anymore.'
Yui sat across from him, still as stone. No softness in her eyes now. Just clarity. Cold, unsparing clarity. Ayato tried to meet her gaze, but it was like staring into a mirror that reflected every mistake he'd ever made.
A ring of lights activated above. A hologram flickered between them—a memory projection. Cycle 1. Ayato stood beside a broken stairwell. Yui dangled from a ledge, reaching up. Blood streamed down her face.
"Ayato—help me—!"
And in the memory… he turned away.
Yui spoke first. Her voice was steady, but it cut deeper than any scream. "I begged. You let go."
Ayato swallowed, the words burning in his throat. "I thought you were going to fall either way. I—"
"No. You chose not to try." Her voice didn't rise. It didn't need to. "Do you want to know the worst part? I remember dying wondering what I did wrong."
Ayato looked down. The floor beneath him glowed red—faintly. His Karma fracture meter: 22%.
'She's right. I made a choice. I let her go. I told myself it was inevitable, but it wasn't. I just didn't want to risk breaking myself to save her.'
The projection changed again. Now: Ayato reading logs alone. Talking to a screen. Designing ethical fail-safes. Submitting changes to the simulation system.
"I didn't mean for it to turn real," he said, voice barely audible.
"But you didn't stop it when it did."
Yui shook her head. "You wanted to see how we'd break. You treated us like experiments."
Ayato's hands clenched. "You were the one who kept believing in people. I thought they'd all betray each other."
"They did."
"Exactly."
The lights flared. Her Karma meter ticked up: 14%. But her voice cracked, just slightly.
"But I never stopped believing in you."
Ayato felt the words like a punch to the gut.
'Why did you believe in me? Why did you keep hoping I'd be better than I was?'
The system spoke again, its voice softer now, almost gentle.
"Offer each other one truth you never confessed. If accepted, the fracture reduces. If rejected… it spikes."
Ayato inhaled, the air sharp in his lungs.
'I have to say it. I have to tell her the truth. Even if it destroys me.'
"I didn't forget you because the system forced me to. I chose to lock the memory. Because remembering you made me too human to survive."
Yui blinked. Silence stretched between them, heavy and raw. Then she laughed—a bitter, broken sound.
"You coward."
"I know."
She closed her eyes. "But thank you… for finally saying it."
Her fracture meter dropped: 14% → 9%. His: 22% → 17%.
Ayato felt the chains loosen, just a little.
'It's not enough. But it's a start.'
Yui leaned forward, her voice trembling.
"I hated being the only person trying to hold us all together. Every time someone cried to me, or begged, or broke down, I pretended I could carry them. But I wanted to run too. And I resented you for not saving me. Even though I told you not to."
Ayato didn't flinch. "I accept that."
Fracture reduced again. Both chains loosened.
But the system wasn't finished.
"One final condition: One of you must walk away without the other. Reconciliation is incomplete until separation is chosen."
Ayato stared at Yui.
'Is this it? Is this where we say goodbye?'
"You want to leave alone?"
Yui looked at him—eyes soft now, the anger faded, replaced by something older and sadder.
"No. But I think I'm supposed to. Because the Tower needs one of us to break."
They stood. The chains shimmered. Open now.
Ayato stepped forward. Yui mirrored him. For a moment—they were close enough to touch.
"Will you forget me again?" she asked.
"Not this time."
They hugged. Ayato felt her heartbeat, steady and strong. He wanted to hold on forever, but he knew he couldn't.
When they pulled back—Yui stepped into the red corridor. Ayato did not follow.
He watched her go, his heart aching.
'She's free. She's whole. And I'm still here, carrying the weight of everything I did and didn't do.'
A system update flashed in the air.
[Floor 20 Complete – Red Reconciliation Successful]
– Emotional Karma stabilized
– Player Yui Asano fully restored
– Ayato granted: Memory Anchor – Yui (Unerasable)
Next Floor: Floor 21 – The Crimson Spiral
Ayato walked alone into the next hall. But something in him felt… still. For the first time in a long time.
He closed his eyes, breathing deep.
'I'll remember you, Yui. No matter what the Tower does. No matter what I become.'
(Chapter 27 End)