Elian didn't know if the bodies hanging from the ceiling were dead.
He just knew they shouldn't be smiling.
The one that greeted him looked human. Mostly. Pale skin stretched thin, lips cracked from silence. But the eyes… the eyes weren't right.
Too bright.
Too knowing.
Too still.
"Who are you?" Elian asked, stepping back, hand clenched around his shard.
The figure's voice rasped, hollow and wet. "One of many. Bound to the thread. Caught between slumber and fracture."
"I don't know what that means."
The smile widened, jagged and slow.
"You will."
The chamber pulsed.
Not visually. Not physically.
Psychically.
Elian felt it inside his skull — a shift, like gravity turning sideways. The other bodies began to twitch in unison, jerking faintly like puppets in a windless room.
Each face wore a different kind of brokenness.
Some sobbed. Some grinned. One whispered words Elian didn't understand in a loop.
He turned away. Instinct told him not to watch too long.
He started moving again, deeper into the Bloodwake.
The whispers behind him grew quieter… but didn't stop.
The corridor beyond was lined with veins — literal ones, black and pulsing. They ran like roots through the stone, humming faintly with some inner rhythm.
At one point, Elian reached out and touched one.
It was warm.
And beneath his fingertips… it twitched.
He recoiled.
[Thread Interaction Detected.]
[Warning: External Authority Influence Present.]
[Temporary Interference Tolerated — Monitoring Soul Integrity.]
"I don't like the word 'tolerated,'" Elian muttered. "You say it like I'm a guest in my own head."
The system didn't reply.
Of course it didn't.
But something else did.
A whisper. Male. Low. Too close.
"You're not a guest. You're the lock. And they've already turned the key."
Elian froze.
He spun around — nothing behind him.
The corridor was still empty.
But his heartbeat wasn't steady anymore.
Eventually, the passage opened into another chamber — smaller, circular, dimly lit by slow-burning symbols carved into the walls. A massive disc sat in the center of the floor, covered in intricate lines and geometric spirals.
It looked like a ritual circle. Or a map.
Or both.
As Elian stepped closer, the lines shifted.
Literally moved, like veins rearranging themselves under skin.
Then the floor spoke.
[Soulfrail Designate Detected.]
[Progress Verified. Initiating Anchor Test: "Selfhood Under Pressure."]
"What test?" Elian said, stepping back.
The door behind him slammed shut.
The symbols on the walls blazed white.
Pain lanced through his chest — sharp, sudden.
His vision shattered.
When it returned, he was no longer alone.
The room was still circular.
But now there were six of him.
Six copies.
Each identical.
Same face.
Same eyes.
Same broken shard in hand.
But none of them moved.
Until one did.
It raised its hand, pointing directly at Elian.
"You don't belong here," it said.
Another raised its voice. "You were supposed to die during the breach."
A third: "You're a bug. A skipped line. An error."
They all spoke at once now, overlapping.
"You don't have a role."
"You don't have a path."
"You are not wanted."
Then the sixth one smiled.
"You're just noise."
They charged.
[Mental Intrusion Detected.]
[Initiating Cognitive Lockdown… Failed.]
[Fallback: Core Response Triggered.]
Everything turned black again.
But this time, it wasn't empty.
It was crowded.
A thousand thoughts not his own. A thousand lives. Moments. Screams. Fragments of choice echoing through a chamber that never stopped echoing.
And through it all — a thread.
One glowing silver line, cutting through the void.
He grabbed it.
Light exploded through the room.
The copies vanished.
All but one.
It stood across from him, breathing hard, staring back.
Same face. Same eyes.
But different.
Elian realized… this one wasn't him.
It just wore his shape.
The figure tilted its head.
Then spoke, not in his voice — but in its.
"Curious. You found your spine."
Elian didn't respond.
He stabbed the shard forward.
The figure shattered.
[Anchor Test Complete.]
[Cognition Rebalanced.]
[Stability: 12% → 19%]
[Core Progress: 34/100 → 61/100]
[Trait Advancement Triggered.]
[Lucid Instinct → Lucid Defiance – Level 1]
[You may now resist low-grade reality warps and minor mental constructs. Passive.]
He collapsed to the floor, gasping.
His brain felt scorched.
But he was still here.
Still himself.
Mostly.
A sound echoed from above — like chains being pulled.
A doorway opened where there had been none.
This time, Elian didn't hesitate.
He walked through.
Beyond it was something new.
A wide, circular platform suspended in nothing. Black sky above. Red fog below. In the center: a pedestal.
On it — a blade.
Not glowing. Not fancy. A jagged piece of darksteel, etched with ancient script and bound by strands of threadlike sinew.
[Soulbind Opportunity Detected.]
[Warning: Unknown entity may be embedded.]
[Do you accept the binding?]
[Y/N]
Elian stepped closer.
His reflection shimmered in the blade.
For once, it didn't speak.
He placed his palm on the hilt.
"…Yes."
Pain surged through his arm. The blade vanished.
No — it melted, absorbed into his skin, lines of thread wrapping around his wrist, binding tight.
[Soulbind Complete.]
[Weapon: Shardthread — Status: Dormant]
[Effect: Adaptive. Evolves with user's mental trajectory.]
[Warning: Weapon may become hostile if identity destabilizes.]
Elian sat down slowly.
Breathing hard.
He looked up at the void overhead and whispered to himself:
"I'm not a hero."
He looked at his palm, the thread marks glowing faintly.
"I'm just a problem that hasn't figured itself out yet."