The obelisk cracked.
Not visibly—there was no sound, no motion—but Aren felt it. Like the snap of a bone deep inside the world.
Juno's wrist gauge went berserk. Alarms flashed red. "Localized spatiotemporal instability—Tier 4 or higher. We need to move—"
A pulse dropped from the sky.
Not lightning. Not energy. Intent.
The air quaked as something descended—not from above, but from outside. The sky didn't open. It peeled.
And then the figure stepped through.
Tall, faceless, wrapped in a cloak woven from broken star maps. Chains floated loosely around its limbs, yet they made no sound. Where its eyes should have been, shards of inverted color flickered—glitches in perception itself.
"Who the hell—" Aren began, but the words died.
The figure raised its hand. And the obelisk shattered into spirals of frozen time.
"Protocol breach confirmed," it said—its voice layered, male and female, old and unborn. "Subject: Aren Kael. You are an anomaly."
Juno fired first. Her Resonant Dart struck the air mid-flight—and stopped. The figure didn't block it. It denied it.
Aren lunged, instinct overriding logic. He didn't summon a weapon—he became one. The Tower's residual power rippled through his muscles as he closed the gap.
The first strike never landed.
Aren found himself behind the figure, disoriented. It hadn't dodged. It had edited the event. Like cutting film from a reel.
"You don't know what you are," the figure murmured, stepping forward. "But someone does."
Chains lashed out. Aren ducked the first—barely. The second nicked his shoulder—and his name burned.
He stumbled back. "It's targeting my identity," he growled. "My Anchor."
Juno shouted, "Disengage! That thing isn't bound to this layer!"
But it was too late.
A third chain wrapped around his chest—then passed into him.
Aren's mind split—
He stood in a city made of his regrets.
Statues of people he couldn't save stared at him. Not accusingly. Just there. Permanent. Frozen in that moment he failed.
"You're not ready," a voice said from the fog.
It was her.
Nara.
But not the version he knew. She was older. Not in age—in power. She radiated authority. Divinity.
"You haven't earned your name yet," she said softly, touching his chest. The chain inside him dissolved like ash.
And just like that—he was back.
Aren collapsed to one knee.
The entity recoiled slightly. Not from damage—from confusion. "Unauthorized override," it whispered. "Divine trace... Edict-class."
Its head tilted.
"...Who protects you?"
Juno pulled Aren back. Her fingers sparked with volatile code—her last line of defense. "Leave now. Or I turn this entire quadrant into a recursive implosion."
The figure hesitated. Then bowed—mockingly.
"You've chosen a path that loops. Eventually, it will eat itself."
It turned, walking back into the tear in space. "We'll speak again, Echo-Born."
The sky sealed behind it.
Silence returned—but it was the wrong kind.
Aren looked at Juno. "What just happened?"
She stared at him, shaken.
"You were marked," she said. "Something from outside the Loop noticed you. And then something else... overrode it."
Aren's pulse pounded.
"That vision—of Nara—what if it wasn't just a memory? What if it was a future?"
Juno didn't answer.
Instead, she tapped the glyph now etched permanently onto his forearm—the one the chain had touched.
It wasn't in any language.
But Aren could feel what it meant.
"Resonance Catalyst: Unstable."
And somewhere far, far away—
The hooded figure stared into the final mirror. This one didn't reflect. It projected.
The boy was changing faster than expected.
"Accelerate Phase Null," he ordered. "And release the Paradox Bound."