The Blade That Chose Obedience

They met in the ruins of an ancient diviner's temple — hip-deep in red dust shattered statues buried at the waist, and odd whispering winds that made the stones feel alive.

Kanji stepped into the center, cape flapping.

Hunter stood behind her, arms crossed, leaning against a crumbling column as if he was uncertain whether this was a trap or a trial.

And in front of them, as if he'd been there the whole time—

Solemn Vale.

Wearing their ceremonial armor, white-gold and bone. The porcelain mask concealed his face, but his regal weight pressed down like discipline-made flesh.

He bowed his head slightly.

"Deviation."

Kanji raised a brow. "And that's what we're calling me now?"

"I name things what they are."

"And what are you?" Kanji asked. "The Church's favorite lapdog?"

Vale tilted his head. "No. I'm its final argument."

The wind passed between them.

Vale stepped forward, two slow steps.

"Tell me… when did you come to believe that to fix the system you had to destroy the world?"

Kanji didn't move. "When the system tried to get rid of me for not fitting in."

Vale's voice was calm. Unbothered.

"It didn't try to erase you. It sought to shield everything else from you."

Lyra arched a brow at that but remained silent.

Kanji smirked faintly. "Your line, or the Church's?"

"It's truth," Vale said. "And truth has no source."

Kanji stepped forward now.

"You're like me," he said. "You've felt the cracks. You know that this order is dying."

"Exactly," Vale said. "Which is why it has to be saved."

Kanji blinked. "Even if it's a lie?"

"Yeah," Vale said, without a moment's hesitation. "Because the lie makes the weak stable. Truth doesn't matter if it brings ruination."

Kanji's fists clenched.

Vale didn't react.

But instead, he looked beyond Kanji—at Lyra.

And that's when Kanji saw it:

He was afraid of her.

Even under the mask.

He didn't acknowledge it. But he felt her watching. Measuring. Maybe even… waiting.

[System Prompt: Hostility Detected — Duel Commencing]

[Threat Match: 1:1]

[Trigger Pending: Threshold Breach in Emotional State]

[Combat Status: Available – But Not Mandated]

Vale turned back to Kanji.

"I don't want to kill you," he told me. "Not yet. But you're going, soul-first, into something that can't coexist with reality."

Kanji's voice dropped. Low. Measured.

"Then make your move."

A long pause.

Vale didn't draw his weapon.

Not yet.

Instead, he turned away.

And said only this:

"I'll see you again. In the Hollow Veins, at the edges. When you lay claim to your second fragment."

Then, he was gone.

Kanji was lost in the silence that followed.

Lyra stepped beside him.

"Well," she said. "He's neat."

Kanji didn't answer.

He simply stared at the spot Vale had occupied.

Then whispered:

"He's what I could've been."

They were three days from the Hollow Veins,

The sky darkened with each mile, the sun retreating as though afraid of what lay ahead.

But here, in this stretch of red grass and ashstone hills, the world remained calm.

They camped in a half-ruined tower that had once been used by skywatchers — one of the old orders that mapped celestial movement before the system made prophecy unnecessary.

Kanji lounged against the splintered railing of the ruined balcony, shirtless, cloak thrown over one shoulder, watching clouds slide across a dripping sunset.

Lyra stepped into sight behind him.

She had traded the weightier scarlet wrap for something simpler — a black sleeveless tunic, cut just high to move around in, low enough to look at. She was clad in fitted leather, her long legs dust-kissed and graceful. Her hair was up again — messy, perfect, like it made the decision to fall that way.

She didn't speak at first.

She merely leaned on a wall, arms folded, staring out over the horizon.

Kanji found himself looking in her direction.

Once.

Then again.

She noticed, of course.

She always did.

But she didn't comment. Just smiled faintly, like a queen observing a knight realize he was not as immune as his bluff made it seem.

Later, with the fire cracking and the wind still, Lyra rubbed her steel with slow, methodical circles.

Kanji put his hands behind him and leaned back, one eye half-lidded.

"You ever think about what you were before all this?" he asked.

Lyra didn't pause.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't matter. The world doesn't care who you are. __ "Because there's only so much that you can do when it all starts to fall apart."

Kanji looked at her again.

Not her blade.

Not her power.

Her.

And for a minute, something strange relaxed in his chest.

Not weakness.

Not love.

Just… gravity.

The quiet kind. The type that makes you move a little closer to the fire even if you're not cold.

That night, while he slept, the whispers came back.

But they weren't words.

They were images. Memories that weren't his.

A staircase made of bone. A hand reaching through fire. A woman's scream, not of fear — but of betrayal.

Then a voice — far-off, fractured, calling:

"Child of the Second Shard… come and observe."

He woke in a cold sweat.

System Update: Fragment Two – Acknowledged

Location: The Hollow Veins – Outer Echo Chamber

[Warning: May Do (Mental) Harm.]

[You Are Being Pulled.]

Lyra remained close, watching him already.

She didn't ask what he saw.

She didn't need to.

"It's time," she said simply.

Kanji stood.

And yet, before they departed, his eyes fell on her once more.

Not long.

Just enough.

Long enough for her to look up.

And say nothing.

But the smirk she had on when she turned away told it all.