The world fractured.
Not metaphorically. As Ren stood inside the spire's root chamber, the entire reef began to convulse—code and earth twisting around them, sky rippling like disturbed water.
Valka cursed under her breath, yanking at Ren's arm. "We triggered a failsafe. The Protocol's collapsing this sector!"
Ren didn't move.
He couldn't.
Because a second consciousness was rising inside him—vast, ancient, and burning. Not a parasite, not a voice. A presence. The God-Core.
The console flickered, displaying a symbol he didn't recognize but somehow understood: a spiral of flame threaded through a cracked eye.
A name whispered itself into his bones:
Naelir. The Flame Remembered.
"Ren," Valka shouted. "Snap out of it!"
But Ren's mind was no longer anchored in the room. He was falling through layers of memory, history—not his, but someone—or something—else's.
---
He stood in a desert made of stardust and shattered timelines.
Before him: a throne of bones. Atop it, a being of impossible light and shadow—horned and eyeless, flames licking its outline.
Naelir.
Ren didn't speak. He couldn't.
Naelir did.
"You are the vessel."
"I didn't choose this."
"You didn't have to. You were born from the moment I was broken. Your soul... stitched from the shard they couldn't burn."
Ren's fists clenched. "What are you?"
Naelir's voice was not cruel, but it weighed heavy.
"I am what came before memory. A god unmade by fear. I was bound, burned, fragmented—and they built the Protocol to keep me buried. But you… you are leaking. You are waking me."
Ren shuddered. "Then let me go. I don't want your power."
Naelir leaned forward, its voice dropping.
"You misunderstand. This isn't about what you want. It's about what they fear. And that... is you remembering what they erased."
The god raised a hand, and Ren's chest erupted with fire.
---
He screamed—back in his body now, collapsed on the floor of the root chamber. Valka was standing over him, weapons drawn. "Something's coming."
Ren sat up, gasping. His hands glowed faint gold, crackling with raw data-light.
"Valka…" His voice was ragged. "I talked to it."
Her eyes narrowed. "The Core?"
He nodded. "Its name is Naelir. It says I was born the moment they tried to kill it. The Soulburn Protocol—it's not just a power system. It's a prison."
A warning siren shrieked through the chamber.
Then a voice spoke—mechanical, sterile.
"Host calibration exceeding thresholds. Subject One identified as Class-X Breach. Deploying retrieval unit."
Valka cursed again. "You triggered a god-class alert. They're sending in a Reclaimer."
The floor shook.
Above them, light split the ceiling. A column of glass and steel descended, carrying something alive inside a cage of light.
It stepped out—a towering humanoid wrapped in void-metal armor, face expressionless, arms humming with null energy.
A Reclaimer.
Ren felt instinct rise—run. But Naelir's voice echoed.
"This is your crucible. Let them fear you."
The Reclaimer raised its hand, aiming at Ren.
Valka threw up a shield, shouting, "MOVE!"
The first blast hit her barrier with a thunderous crack, shattering it. Ren ducked, skidding across the floor, heart racing.
The Reclaimer moved like liquid steel, silent, unstoppable.
Ren dodged a second strike, grabbing a broken data conduit, using it like a staff. He swung wildly, deflected with ease.
"You can't win this!" Valka shouted. "It's built to erase anomalies like you!"
Ren's eyes glowed gold.
"I'm not an anomaly anymore."
He thrust his hand forward—and the ground split beneath the Reclaimer. Golden threads surged from Ren's palm, binding it mid-strike.
It struggled, but Ren focused, feeling the power burn into his spine.
Soul Thread Engaged. Subroutine Override.
He wasn't casting a spell.
He was rewriting the Reclaimer's command code.
The machine staggered. Its voice stuttered.
"Un...known sublayer... detected... Initiating rollback—"
Ren roared—and its core exploded in a shower of sparks.
Silence.
Then Valka: "Okay. That was hot. Also terrifying. But mostly hot."
Ren dropped to his knees, panting. His veins felt molten.
"The god's not dormant anymore," he said. "It's bleeding through."
Valka knelt beside him, scanning his vitals. "You're stable, but barely. You're shifting, Ren. I don't know how much longer your body can hold that thing."
He stared at the Reclaimer's remains. "We need answers. And fast."
Valka nodded. "There's one place left where we might find them."
Ren met her eyes.
"Where?"
She hesitated. "The Origin Spire. It's deep in the Forbidden Verge. That's where the first Echoborn protocols were forged. And where Naelir was first bound."
Ren stood, unsteady but burning with purpose.
"Then that's where we end this."