The Trial had ended, but its aftershock lingered like a slow poison in Kaizen's veins.
As he and Ayaka stepped out of the Blood Memory Chamber, the obsidian doors sealed behind them with a deafening thud. Kaizen's hands were still trembling, not from weakness—but from what he saw in that future vision. That broken, godlike version of himself… the one who stood above the world with fire in his eyes and death in his voice.
Ayaka walked beside him in silence, her knuckles white.
They didn't speak until they reached the outer hallway—lined with statues of fallen Veinborn and shard wielders from ancient wars. Moonlight filtered in from high arches above, illuminating the dust particles like drifting embers.
Kaizen stopped and whispered, "Ayaka... if that future is real, if I become him—"
"You won't," she said sharply. "You won't."
He looked at her, eyes full of quiet despair. "You saw what I did… the memories. I've killed. Lied. Taken power I wasn't supposed to. And now the Tribunal calls me 'Judgment Thread'—what the hell does that even mean?"
She turned to face him, hand on his chest. "It means your choices hold weight enough to burn cities or save them. But you're still you, Kaizen. Not a prophecy. Not a puppet."
He closed his eyes. "Then I need to know the truth. About who made me… and why."
Ayaka hesitated, then pulled something from beneath her cloak. A scroll—sealed with a shard crest.
"I found this while you were inside the Trial," she said. "From the Archive Room. It belonged to a scribe who studied… The Shattered Flame Pact."
Kaizen blinked. "What's that?"
She handed it to him. "The supposed agreement made by the original Veinborn and the Bist monarchs… thousands of years ago. A forbidden alliance forged in desperation during a war that nearly destroyed the continent."
Kaizen unrolled it slowly.
The parchment pulsed faintly—like it was alive. Inside, diagrams showed two symbols: one of flame… the other of corruption.
And beneath it, an unsettling line was written in ink that glowed faintly under moonlight:
"When the Last Flame falls in love with the Bistborn Moon, the pact shall shatter—and the world shall burn again."
Kaizen stared at the line, a chill crawling down his spine.
"The Bistborn… Moon?"
Ayaka's face turned pale.
Kaizen whispered, "Ayaka… what's your lineage again?"
She backed up. "W-Why?"
"Ayaka… tell me."
She swallowed. Then said it.
"My mother… was human. But my father… he wasn't. He was a scholar who came from the outer Bist realms. He hid it. I didn't know until… until I was thirteen."
Kaizen's breath caught.
"You're part Bist."
Ayaka nodded slowly. "A halfblood. Just like you… in your own way."
Suddenly, a massive crack ripped through the ceiling above.
BOOM.
Stone shattered. Dust flooded the corridor.
Kaizen shielded Ayaka as a chunk of marble slammed beside them.
A massive figure descended through the breach—dark wings folding, obsidian armor glowing with violet veins.
Krovar.
"No…" Ayaka gasped. "We left him near the Abyss Gate!"
But it wasn't exactly him.
This Krovar was… decayed. Like a resurrected corpse with new power flowing through him. His eyes weren't his anymore. They glowed with spiraling shard glyphs—the mark of mind control.
Kaizen stepped forward. "Who's controlling you?!"
A voice echoed from Krovar's mouth—but it wasn't his.
"Greetings, Kaizen.
Let's begin your education."
Kaizen's eyes widened. That voice—Nerovar.
The puppet Krovar raised his hand and pointed at Ayaka.
"The pact must not shatter. Kill her, or I will."
Kaizen's heart stopped.
Ayaka grabbed his arm. "Don't listen. We can escape—"
Krovar lunged.
Kaizen barely managed to block the first swing. The sheer force sent him crashing through a column, rubble raining around him.
Ayaka pulled two daggers and slashed across Krovar's leg, but it didn't slow him. The puppet General caught her by the throat and lifted her.
Kaizen roared.
A white flame exploded from his veins. His blade summoned itself into his hand—longer now, with shard veins glowing crimson.
He teleported, appearing above Krovar mid-air, and sliced downward, severing the arm holding Ayaka.
Krovar screamed, not in pain—but in fury. The shard glyphs on his face pulsed.
Kaizen caught Ayaka mid-fall and rolled with her, sliding across the blood-slick marble.
He looked into her terrified eyes.
"Ayaka… I won't kill you. Even if the world ends."
She smiled through the panic. "I knew you'd say that."
Krovar charged again.
But this time, Kaizen didn't run. He planted his foot and held his blade toward the incoming monster.
His flame didn't burn just for survival anymore. It burned for her.
And with one final strike, infused with the Veinborn's true purpose, Kaizen whispered:
"I shatter your chains."
The blade pierced Krovar's chest—not to kill, but to break the glyph.
With a scream, the puppet shattered. Krovar's real consciousness briefly returned—eyes wide.
"…Kaizen…?"
Then his body collapsed, crumbling into dust.
Silence fell.
Kaizen dropped to his knees.
Ayaka clutched his arm, whispering, "We're not safe anymore."
He nodded. "Nerovar knows. About us. About the pact. He'll come for us now. Not just to kill…"
"…but to make sure the prophecy dies before it begins."