Ren's feet hit stone.
Hard.
He stumbled forward, barely catching himself before crashing face-first onto the cold temple floor. Pain shot up his arms, sharp and grounding—but only barely enough to convince him this wasn't another dream.
The air smelled old. Dusty. Like a place no one had breathed in for centuries.
Ren sucked in a breath and pushed himself upright.
"This again…" he muttered.
The ruined temple stretched around him, exactly like the one he'd seen inside the seal before. Cracked pillars. Broken arches. Moonlight bleeding through gaps in the ceiling that shouldn't exist underground.
Only this time, everything felt heavier.
Real.
He flexed his fingers. They responded normally. His heart beat once—just once—and that alone sent a rush of relief through him.
"I'm awake," Ren whispered. "I'm actually awake."
The silence answered him.
Too much silence.
Not even wind stirred the dust.
Ren took a cautious step forward. The stone beneath his boots scraped softly, the sound echoing farther than it should have. Every instinct screamed that this place wasn't meant for humans anymore.
—You walk where memory still breathes.
Ren froze.
The voice wasn't loud. It didn't echo. It came from everywhere and nowhere at once, like the temple itself was speaking.
"Show yourself," Ren said, forcing his voice steady.
—There is nothing to show. Only what remains.
Ren clenched his fists. "I didn't come here willingly."
—No one ever does.
The Ninth Seal stirred inside his chest—slow, cautious, like it was waking up somewhere deeper than before. Ren pressed a hand against his ribs, breathing through the pressure.
"No," he said quietly. "You don't get to pull me under again."
The pull didn't stop.
It didn't get stronger either.
It just… guided him.
Ren hated that part most.
He walked deeper into the temple, each step dragging up a strange sense of familiarity. He hadn't been here before—but something inside him had.
The walls began to change as he passed.
Carvings appeared between the cracks. Symbols burned faintly, reacting to his presence. Ren stopped in front of one wall and reached out without thinking.
The moment his fingers touched the stone—
The world shifted.
Ren staggered back as the temple bled into something else. The walls grew taller. The cracks sealed. The moonlight brightened.
The ruin became whole.
Ren's breath caught. "What…?"
He was still in the temple.
But not the broken one.
Torches lined the walls now, burning with pale blue flame. The air was warmer. Cleaner. Voices echoed faintly in the distance—real voices, not whispers.
This wasn't a ruin.
It was alive.
Ren's heart began to race. "This is the past…"
—This is before the fall.
Footsteps approached.
Ren turned just in time to see people passing through the hall—priests in layered robes, soldiers with ceremonial armor, scholars clutching scrolls. None of them noticed him.
Not one glance.
He stepped into their path.
Nothing.
They walked straight through him like he wasn't there.
Ren sucked in a shaky breath. "I'm inside it. Inside the memory."
—You are standing where he stood.
Ren followed the flow of people into a massive chamber. A circular platform dominated the center, carved with intricate sigils—nine of them, arranged like a spiral.
And standing at the center…
Ren stopped breathing.
The man looked human.
That was the worst part.
Tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, wearing ceremonial armor etched with the same symbols Ren had seen burning inside his own chest. His face was calm, focused—but there were deep shadows under his eyes.
He looked tired.
So deeply tired.
The First Sealbearer.
Ren felt the pull instantly. Not forceful. Not violent.
Familiar.
"No…" Ren whispered. "I don't want this."
The world lurched.
And suddenly—
He wasn't standing across the room anymore.
He was standing inside the man.
Ren gasped as his perspective snapped violently into place. His body felt heavier. Stronger. Every breath carried immense pressure, like the air itself resisted his existence.
His chest burned.
Nine seals pulsed beneath his armor.
All of them.
Ren staggered, grabbing the edge of the platform. Pain flared through him—not physical, but emotional. Fear. Determination. Guilt.
So much guilt.
"I can do this," the man said.
Ren felt the words leave his mouth.
"I have to."
Ren panicked. "Stop—this isn't me—!"
But the memory didn't care.
The god's presence loomed just beneath his thoughts—vast, restrained, impatient.
—You are weakening.
The First Sealbearer clenched his fists. "I won't fail."
Ren felt the lie in that statement.
Not arrogance.
Hope.
The worst kind.
The chamber shook lightly as the seals reacted to his emotions. Ren felt it—how fear made them pulse faster, how doubt made the pressure spike.
"This is how it starts…" Ren whispered. "This is how he lost control."
A sharp pain sliced through Ren's chest as the Ninth Seal flared brighter than the others.
Too bright.
Too eager.
The First Sealbearer staggered.
Ren felt blood drip from his nose—hot, real.
—Your heart is unstable.
"I just need time," the man gasped. "Just—more—time—"
Ren's vision blurred.
The chamber darkened.
People screamed.
Not yet dying—but afraid.
Ren felt the seals reacting to that fear, feeding on it, amplifying it.
"No," Ren whispered desperately. "Stop. Don't push harder—"
But the man did.
Because he didn't know another way.
The Ninth Seal pulsed violently.
Ren screamed as the pressure skyrocketed, every emotion slamming together inside his chest—love, fear, desperation, anger—blending into something dangerous.
Something hungry.
The god stirred.
Not fully awake.
But aware.
—This is where you break.
The platform cracked beneath his feet.
Ren felt it—felt the exact moment when control slipped just a fraction too far.
The memory froze.
Everything went still.
The torches stopped flickering. The screams cut off mid-sound.
Ren's consciousness tore loose from the Sealbearer's body, yanked backward like a snapped chain.
He landed hard on the temple floor again—back in the ruined version.
Gasping.
Shaking.
"No… no no no…" Ren whispered. "That wasn't the end yet."
The air grew colder.
A presence stepped out of the shadows behind him.
Not the god.
Not Yurei.
Someone else.
Ren turned slowly.
The First Sealbearer stood there now—not alive, not whole, eyes burning faintly with regret.
He looked straight at Ren.
And spoke with Ren's own voice.
"You feel it now, don't you?"
Ren's throat went dry. "Feel what?"
The man's expression twisted into something painfully human.
"The moment before everything goes wrong."
The seals across his spectral chest flared—
And the memory began to move again.
Faster this time.
Unstoppable.
Ren screamed as the vision dragged him forward—
Straight toward the moment of collapse.