To Beira

"I am the conclusion, the erasure of all things, not some force of wanton destruction."

Her eyes pulsed with every pulse it was clear that she was the ultimate age net of the end

The story trembled. 

I froze, hearing her words not in my own mind, but as if the world itself was whispering them to me, compelling me to listen.

The being, the Etravice, sat back in her throne.

The world around her seemed to fracture, breaking into other dimensions, other worlds, other lives. Lives I had lived seemed to peek through the cracks, fleeting and fragmented.

I could tell this wasn't the first time I had seen her, and yet there was an eerily familiar feeling that broke through my consciousness. The surrounding area seemed to freeze, time dilated, and she was at the center of it all.

Every soul that had ever died appeared before her. She was judgment. She was the END

I died so fast in this life, I thought to myself.

I thought back to my first death, when I had stabbed myself. I wasn't sure what had happened or why, and that same uncertainty filled me here.

I wasn't sure why my powers had gone wrong, why I had suddenly combusted into flames. But this being, this Etravice, instilled fear in me.

My mind began to race. Insanity crept closer and closer, as if being near her caused it.

And then, finally, peace.

Realization.

A calm before the storm.

The woman barely spoke, her tone above me, and I fell to my feet. Was this the end? I thought over and over again.

The thoughts ran through my head—my fears, my death, my inability to understand. They raged over and over, and suddenly, a light.

A woman appeared next to END

She radiated an eerie brilliance.

Her long, flowing blonde hair swayed unnaturally, framed by a delicate pink ribbon that softened the intensity of her piercing violet eyes. Those eyes seemed to hold an endless cycle of beginnings and endings, a window into unfathomable truths.

Her ornate robes were adorned with intricate patterns of spiderwebs and cryptic symbols, hinting at a connection to something beyond mortal comprehension.

Her aura was one of both serenity and madness, as though she existed between sanity and insanity. Surrounding her were silken webs suspended in the air.

 Each one pulsating faintly with energy. Despite her youthful and doll-like features, there was an unmistakable weight to her presence.

They spoke, but I couldn't hear them, as if the words were ripped from the very page itself, meant only for them.

"That goes against the fourth law," I heard the End say loudly enough for me to hear.

The other woman bowed before the End—not in reverence, but as a plea. As they spoke more, the room seemed to shift and change just from their very presence. I wasn't sure what I needed to do. I was a single, selfish force, dragged along this path with no choice of my own.

"Fine, Sora," the End said as the conversation came to a close.

A look of shock appeared on Sora's face, and she spoke again, though I couldn't hear her.

"It's not like he'll remember," the End sighed. "But fine."

She snapped her fingers, and a ripple went through the endless space—a force of time and matter splitting in every direction.

"To be or not to be," she quoted.

GASP.

I woke up before Kundra. His face was serious, his eyes weighed down by something he wasn't saying. The air between us felt heavy. He looked tired. He looked like he hadn't expected me to wake up.

"What… happened?" My voice came out rough, unsure. 

My head was foggy, memories slipping away before I could hold onto them.

Kundra didn't answer right away. He just stared, his face unreadable. But in his eyes, there was something—shock, maybe disbelief. Like he was seeing me for the first time. Or the last.

The silence stretched, thick and unshakable. I wanted to ask again, to push him for answers, but his expression stopped me. It was the kind of look that meant words wouldn't be enough.

Finally, he spoke. "You don't remember?" His voice was quiet, almost too soft, but it carried a weight that made my chest tighten.

I shook my head. "It's all blurry. The last thing I remember is…" I trailed off. The pieces wouldn't fit together.

Kundra studied me for a long moment, then let out a slow breath. "We'll talk," he said. "But not now."

Something about the way he said it sent a chill through me. Like whatever had happened was too big, too heavy to face yet.

I wanted to argue, to make him tell me everything, but that look in his eyes stopped me. There was pain there. Loss. Something broken that couldn't be fixed.

So, I stayed quiet. The questions burned inside me, but I didn't speak.

Kundra turned away, moving slowly, like every step cost him something.im something. I watched him go, my mind racing with possibilities, but no answers came.

I struggled to remember anything.

 My mind was a blur. I couldn't even remember much. I could remember the flames that tore me apart and suddenly waking up.

 The only things that came to me were fragments—words like Laws and Tetravice. I wasn't sure what they meant, who they were, or what kind of power they held. But I knew I needed answers. I followed Kundra, who had flown ahead, his movements distant.

He must've noticed I wasn't keeping up, so he circled back, waiting for me to catch up. Once I was beside him, we started walking toward the rocky part of the continent, away from the others. 

When we were far enough, Kundra finally spoke.

"Your pearl," he said, his voice grave. "it regenerated."

I stared at him, unsure. "What do you mean?" I asked, feeling lost.

Kundra didn't answer immediately. He gave me a long, piercing look, then explained,

"When something dies, the pearl leaves the body and enters the soul of whoever is near. But in your case... it regenerated."

I couldn't grasp what he meant. "Regenerated?"

Kundra looked at me, his eyes serious. "Pearls don't regenerate. Nothing like this has ever happened before. If other dragons find out that your pearl can regenerate, they'll kill you again and again and again."

I felt a chill run through me. "But why is that important? What does it mean?"

Kundra sighed. "The pearl is the essence of a soul. It's what allows us to cultivate, to grow. If others learn yours can regenerate, it'll mark you as a target."

"An infinite source of power," I murmured

"According to the Laws of the world, this shouldn't happen," he spoke.

I was still reeling, but a new question bubbled up. "What are the Laws?"

Kundra's gaze turned distant. "There are eight laws. They govern everything—your soul, your powers, the very way the world works."

I nodded slowly, trying to absorb it all.

"What about the fourth?" I continued. "What does it govern?"

"The Law of Cycles."