Clara's pulse hammered like war drums. The fissure pulsed with her heartbeat, or perhaps it was the other way around. She couldn't tell anymore. The colossus knelt before her, threads shivering, crimson glow seeping from its fractured mask.
It was waiting.
Waiting for her.
Her throat felt raw, as though one more word would tear it apart. Yet the hunger in her blood begged her to speak. One more command. Just one.
Damien's voice shattered through the tension. "Don't do it, Clara! I'm warning you—this isn't you. This thing is twisting you!"
Clara's breath hitched. "I don't… I don't want this…"
But Yurin stepped closer, his expression calm, unreadable. His voice carried like an anchor in a storm.
"You've already proven the bond. Do you want to end it trembling? Or do you want to know how far your reach truly is?"
Her head whipped toward him. "You're using me."
He didn't deny it. "I'm testing you. If you can't master what's inside you, Damien is right—you'll be destroyed. And when that happens, this thing will be unchained." His gaze flicked toward the kneeling colossus. "Then everyone dies."
The silence after his words was heavier than any roar.
Damien spat, flames flaring around him. "Don't listen to him! He's not trying to save you—he's grooming you, Clara! He wants this! Look at him—he's calm while you're tearing apart inside. What does that tell you?"
Evelyn leaned casually on her blades, smirking at the argument like a theater-goer at her favorite drama. "Honestly, I think you should do it. Give it a fun command. Like… 'tear off your own arm.' Or 'dance.' I want to see if gods can waltz."
Clara's shaking hands curled into fists. Her fire flickered again, threads snaking through it as if impatient. Her voice came out hoarse. "What… what if I lose myself?"
Yurin's answer was immediate. "Then you were never yourself to begin with."
The words cut deeper than steel. She hated him for saying it, hated him for being right, hated him for the calm certainty in his eyes when she felt like she was unraveling.
Damien lunged forward, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Clara. Look at me. You're not the Architect. You're you. Don't let him—don't let it—decide who you are." His grip trembled with desperation. "Please."
Her breath came in shudders. Damien's warmth against her, the fire in his eyes—it was real. But so was the pulse in her veins. The waiting silence of the colossus. The intoxicating truth that it would obey her.
Her lips parted.
"Stand."
The colossus rose, the sound like mountains grinding. Its sheer size blotted out the fissure's glow as it towered upright once more, obeying with absolute precision.
The battlefield shuddered. Clara's heart thundered. Power surged through her again, sharper, cleaner. It felt… easier.
"No!" Damien shouted, stumbling back. His flames flared violently. "Damn it, Clara!"
Evelyn clapped like a delighted child. "Yes! Beautiful! Again!"
Yurin said nothing. He simply watched her, the faintest curve at the corner of his lips betraying satisfaction.
Clara's body trembled. She wanted to scream, to claw the command back—but part of her reveled in it. Each thread of the colossus was her thread. She could move its arm, its gaze, its very breath with a thought.
It was intoxicating. Terrifying. Addictive.
Damien's face twisted with fury, his voice breaking. "Do you even hear yourself anymore? Do you see what's happening?!"
Her eyes stung. "Damien, I… I can't stop it…"
"Yes, you can! Fight it! Or—" His flames surged around his hands, hot enough to blister the air. "Or I'll do it for you."
The world froze again. Clara stared at him, unable to breathe.
Evelyn burst into manic laughter. "Oh, this is rich! Your knight in burning armor threatening to kill you to save you! Tragedy writes itself!"
Clara's voice broke into a whisper. "You'd kill me?"
Damien's jaw tightened, his flames writhing uncontrollably. His answer was strangled, pained. "If it means saving you from that thing—yes."
And in that instant, the colossus moved—its threads tightening, reacting not to Clara's command, but to her fear.
Yurin's threads twitched, ready. His eyes gleamed.
The second command had been given. The third was coming, whether Clara wanted it or not.