Raiyen took a single step forward—
and felt his soul arrive a heartbeat late.
The sensation was subtle but catastrophic.
For a fraction of a second, reality itself seemed to flicker, as if existence had blinked and nearly forgotten to reopen its eyes. Raiyen froze, breath catching.
"…Damn."
During that microscopic lapse, something slipped through.
Not words. Not a clear voice.
Intent.
The Devourer's will brushed against his thoughts, so seamless it almost felt like his own decision forming out of nowhere. The Limiter Rings pulsed sharply, reacting to the disturbance.
From the shadows, Korrin rushed forward, rare urgency breaking her usual composure.
"You felt that?" she demanded.
Raiyen nodded once. "Soul blink."
Her expression darkened. "The next one… you might lose control."
Before he could respond, an energy spike erupted in a distant desert region. It wasn't the Architects' signature. It wasn't fully the Devourer's either. It felt… misplaced.
Veyra went alert. "What is that?"
Raiyen didn't open the Six Eyes. He relied only on instinct and restrained perception.
"…A decoy."
The Devourer wasn't attacking directly.
It was creating a choice.
At the same time as the desert anomaly, a subtle instability formed near Aira's location.
Both disturbances couldn't be resolved simultaneously—not without overextending himself or reopening the Six Eyes fully.
For one second, Raiyen hesitated.
With a stable soul, hesitation was strategy.
With a blinking soul, hesitation was danger.
"Choose!" Korrin shouted.
Before Raiyen could act, Aira made the decision for him.
Across the planet, she closed her eyes and whispered, "Not this time… not him."
The anchor symbol on her hand flared violently. Pain surged through her body as she forced her own area into a temporary seal.
Blood trickled from her nose as she stabilized the instability herself.
The anchor route twisted in response.
Deep underground, the Devourer's chains shrieked as the path distorted unexpectedly.
"UNEXPECTED VARIABLE."
Raiyen felt the shift immediately.
Without teleporting. Without activating the Six Eyes.
He moved toward the desert anomaly using only raw control and physical speed, refusing to lean on overwhelming perception.
Halfway there, his soul blinked again.
This time it hit harder.
His body stumbled, crashing into the ground hard enough to fracture the surface beneath him. Veyra caught him before he collapsed fully.
The damage was severe. Internal systems strained. Blood filled his mouth.
Immediate Heal beckoned like a reflex.
His eyes twitched, sky-blue threatening to return.
"Don't!" Korrin shouted.
Raiyen clenched his teeth and endured.
He did not activate it.
At that exact moment, Aira clutched her chest, feeling his pain through the anchor connection. The bond pulsed unnaturally strong.
"Don't use it," she whispered, though he couldn't hear her directly. "I'll handle it.
Something shifted.
Raiyen realized the anchor wasn't just the Devourer's tool.
It was a bridge.
Between his soul and Earth.
Between his instability and something grounded.
He pushed himself up slowly.
"No more chasing," he said quietly.
Instead of reacting, he planted his feet and stabilized his breathing. Limiter Three hummed as planetary equilibrium locked into place around him.
"I'll let him come."
From their hidden vantage point, the Architects misread the stillness.
"He's slowing down," one observed.
The Observer shook his head. "No. He's building ground."
The Devourer responded by increasing pressure—not lethal force, but conceptual interference. Memories blurred. Orientation shifted. Raiyen staggered again as confusion seeped in.
Then—
A soft glow ignited across Aira's anchor symbol.
Controlled. Steady.
Raiyen felt it like a weight settling into place. His breathing evened out. The soul blink stopped mid-stutter, alignment restored for the moment.
Korrin's eyes widened in realization.
"Aira is becoming your soul anchor," she said. "A natural stabilizer."
Raiyen stared toward the horizon, tension tightening in his jaw.
"…That's dangerous."
If she stabilized him, she became even more valuable.
Even more targeted.
His voice carried outward—not through air, but through layered existence.
"Stay away from her."
Deep below, the Devourer's laughter reverberated through stone and chain.
"THEN COME CLOSER."
The sky darkened—not with storm clouds, but with attention. Something ancient shifted its focus fully onto Earth.
Korrin's whisper barely carried.
"He's not playing anymore…"
"…He's coming."
Raiyen's eyes remained half-open, the faintest reflection of sky-blue dormant within them.
He didn't move.
"I'm right here," he said quietly.