Mercy Collapse

The moment Ilari vanishes into the black corridor, the Labyrinth of Mercy screams.

Not a sound the ear can catch—

But a psychic tearing through the Variant's structure.

Trees splinter into algorithmic shards.

Memories hanging in the air disintegrate into error-code dust.

The labyrinth unroots itself.

The players drop to their knees as the rules etched on their skin burn away.

SYSTEM MESSAGE:

"UNRECOGNIZED ENTRY POINT BREACHED."

"VARIANT 3-LM STABILITY: 36%…"

Matthew is the first to stand, grabbing Sora and Rin by the arms.

"This was never part of our rewrite. That path—what was that?"

Sora, wide-eyed, stares into the glitching dark corridor.

"I don't know. But it recognized her… and not us."

Rin's face goes pale.

"We made the system soft enough to let in truths—but not strong enough to filter which ones."

"Ilari's not a Variant player. She's something the root never scrubbed out."

They try to chase her.

But as they approach the corridor—

Their bodies lock.

Their rewritten privileges are rejected.

A silent wall pulses before them with this phrase burned into its edge:

"Players Cannot Enter The Origin Core."

Matthew slams his fist into the force-field.

Sora studies the shifting symbols in the air.

Rin opens a hidden console—her last architect-level command panel.

"We can't go in," she mutters.

"But maybe we can pull her out."

Phase One: Reality Patch

Rin begins rewriting sections of the collapsing map, threading temporary holds to stabilize the Variant space.

She grabs nodes from neighboring reality-branches—echoes of old games—and starts stitching them together:

A stairwell from the King's Trail. A memory room from Dead or Alive. A translucent bridge from Sora's Map.

The Variant groans under the strain, trying to reject the fusion.

Phase Two: Memory Bait

Sora steps forward, speaking into the black corridor even though she can't see Ilari.

"You said we carried too much.

But you… you're carrying something older than any of us."

"Come back, Ilari. If you're not just a vessel—prove it."

A long silence.

Then… a whisper.

"She's awake now."

"You shouldn't have rewritten the locks."

The darkness pulses.

And from the corridor's edge, a shard of Ilari's memory falls out—a vision:

A child not born, but compiled.

Created from the erasure logs of players who died before their games finished.

Built to hold unfinished pain.

She was the failsafe.

A reverse-Shepherd.

Phase Three: The Catch Node

Matthew steps up with the most dangerous part.

He reactivates one of his own erased threads:

His original agreement to enter Deathland.

The system flares.

It recognizes him again as a bound player—not a system architect.

He screams as his body flickers—

But it lets him step forward.

Just far enough to reach the edge of the black corridor.

He calls out, pain ripping through his mind:

"You don't belong in there, Ilari.

You belong with us."

A hand reaches back.

Not glitching.

Not synthetic.

Hers.

Ilari collapses into Matthew's arms.

And the corridor closes behind them, evaporating into thin air.

SYSTEM RECOGNITION:

Origin Core Path Sealed.

Variant 3-LM Stability: 82%

Copy-0 Echo: Contained (For Now)

But just before the Variant resets to calm…

The NULL SHEPHERD flickers once in the clouds above.

And its voice—now clearer—speaks a single phrase for the first time since the rewrite:

"You bought time."

"Not freedom."