The Whisper and the Flame

Kanji couldn't sleep.

Not because of the battle. Not even because of the memory echo that had seared through his skull and still had his hands twitching.

It was that voice.

That damn shard.

"Breaker. Born again."

He perched on the side of the bed in the temporary quarters the Church had found for him — stone walls, a narrow window looking out at the smog-streaked horizon, nothing but silence. Outside, the night pulsed a soft red from Orivale's fading sky.

[System Note: Emotional Blockage — Soul Core Engaged]

[Passive: "Echo Drift" — Memory Layer Incomplete.]

[Note: Shard of Null Memory has not been cataloged. Unknown interaction.]

Kanji rubbed his temples.

He could've asked more questions. About the Church. About the mission. About why a floating piece of long-forgotten magic spoke as though it knew him.

But part of him didn't want to know the answers.

Not yet.

A flash of movement caught his eye.

He glanced at the window — and froze.

Across the courtyard, leaning against a broken arch without thinking, surrounded by wild ivy and glowing lanterns, was Lyra, arms crossed, staring at the city.

The day was just beginning to break. A finger of sunlight fell across her face, seizing the edge of her glasses, and warming her hair in a golden halo.

For a moment — just a moment — Kanji stared too long.

She wasn't wearing armored. Just a black, sleeveless tunic, tight at the waist, loose at the hips, indifferent to the cold. She sprawled in an easy, relaxed posture, but her eyes… her eyes were always calculating, always watching something somewhere that only she could see.

Kanji frowned and looked the other way.

"Get a grip," he muttered.

But his heart made one quiet thud, unexpected.

Then a moment later he exited the room.

Crossed the courtyard.

She had heard him coming, of course. She always did.

"Didn't see you for the brooding type," she said without looking.

"Didn't figure you for the silent type."

"I'm versatile."

He moved up next to her, his hands in his pockets. "Why did the shard talk to me?"

Lyra didn't reply immediately. Then:

"Because you're not just a summoned hero. You're a fragment. A thread in a web that existed before the gods. That shard is aware of the parts of you that do not belong here."

Kanji's brow furrowed. "You seem like you've been there before."

"No," she said. "But I have seen what comes after that." And it's never mercy."

[New Passive Insight: "Tethered to the Forgotten" — Some ancient corpses may react to your presence. Interactions can reveal sealed lore, or have untraceable consequences.]

Kanji shifted his weight.

"The Church isn't what it presents itself as, right?"

She finally turned to him.

Her expression was neutral. "You already know the answer. You simply haven't made up if you're prepared to battle them."

"I'm not going to fight anyone until I know who the enemy really is."

Lyra smirked, faintly. "That's the problem. In Aetherion, everyone believes they're the hero."

She turned away, walking past him into the stone halls.

Kanji had observed her leave, her silhouette growing small in the archway.

He remained standing like that for quite some time, watching the soft city burn beneath the crimson sky.

And for the first time since his arrival, he understood: He wasn't merely a part of the game. He might be the glitch.

…..

Orivale's bells rang just after dawn.

Low. Hollow. Not the cadence of prayer, of ceremony.

It was the sound of judgment.

Shirtless, kanji leaned against the railing of the balcony outside his quarters, sword propped up against it. He didn't need the System to say something was wrong. He could feel it in his Soul Core—a static hum like the very air was warning him.

Then the door creaked open.

He didn't move.

He already knew it wasn't Lyra.

The footsteps were too specific. Measured. Every footfall carried the weight of someone who knew they were beyond consequence.

[System Warning: Hostile Presence Detected.]

[Classification as an Entity: Inquisitor Level — "Saint Rank Threat"]

[Combat Potential: Unknown. Suppressed.]

The man who came in wore no armor.

Just a black robe, silver flame stitching around the collar, and the insignia of the True Flame Order pinned to his chest. Pale skin. Ash-blonde hair. A smile that never actually reached his eyes.

But the most unsettling part?

He cast no shadow.

"Kanji," the man said, his voice smooth and slow. "We've been watching."

Kanji turned.

"You're late," he muttered. "I was anticipating this visit when the first body fell."

The man chuckled. "You killed a knight. Denied an order. Protected heretics. Some would call it treason."

"Some would call it not being a psychotic cultist."

The smile didn't fade. "I like you already."

He moved in, and Kanji's Soul Core responded violently — a wave of heat, as though he were too close to a dying star.

[WARNING: Soul Pressure Activated. Opponent Has Access to Divine Bindings.]

[Trying Analysis… Failed.]

"What do you want?" Kanji asked.

The inquisitor laced his fingers together. "A conversation. A test. A reminder."

Kanji's jaw tensed.

"What's your name?"

The man tilted his head. "I've had many. However, for the time being, you can call me Veyrus."

Kanji raised an eyebrow. "Sounds pretentious."

"Only to the fearers of weighty names."

He walked slowly around the room, running his fingertips over the ancient stone as if he were feeling its age.

"You are not who the Church hoped for," Veyrus said. "If you were supposed to be the sword of the goddess. A blunt instrument. But instead…" He turned. "You think. You question. You remember."

Kanji narrowed his eyes. "You have heard of the memories?"

Veyrus smiled wider. "I know what you could be. Which is why I'm here — to give you a choice."

He held up one gloved black hand.

"Come with me. Let me test your limits. Learn what's inside you. Or…" He gestured toward the door. "Stay in Lyra's shadow. And wonder daily what they are withholding from you."

Kanji had felt it—the pressure in the words. Not a threat. An invitation. The kind that had consequences if turned down.

And underneath everything else… curiosity.

Veyrus wasn't there to kill him.

He was here to see whether he could be converted.

[The system prompt is set for moral fork manipulation.]

[Reverse Path: -------------- Follow the Inquisitor — Unlock "Binding Trials," + Massive XP, Potential Dark Alignment Shift.]

[Path B: "Refuse" — See Lyra, Bolster Trust, Stabilize "Fragment Walker" Timeline.]

[Optional: Defer Choice. Time Limit: 48 Hours.]

Veyrus pivoted, half of himself on its way to the door.

"I am coming back at midnight tomorrow," he said. "Alone, if you wish. Or not. Bring your blade. Or don't. "I'll know either way what your answer is."

And then he was gone.

No footsteps. No sound. No shadow.

Just a slight smell of burnt air.

Kanji exhaled slowly.

Outside, the sun was finally starting to come up. And for the first time since entering this world, he understood the gods weren't the only things watching.