The Arcade was too quiet. Not safe-quiet. Predator-quiet. The sealed door still smoked faintly, golden cracks slowly fading from its surface. Something ancient had left its fingerprints on the wood… and on Alex and Mei Lin. Mei Lin leaned against the wall, chest rising and falling in short bursts. The bronze sigils under her skin were still rotating—slower now, but deeper. Settled. Rooted. Alex felt the same. His burn didn’t roar anymore; it… hummed. Almost like it had found a rhythm to match hers. He wiped the sweat from his jaw. “We need to leave,” he said. Mei Lin nodded weakly. “Before it comes back?” “No.” He stared at the door. “Before someone else comes instead.” And someone did. Not five seconds later— —the entire Arcade shook. Not footsteps. Not knocking. Impact. Like something—or someone—slammed into the far wall of the hallway. Mei Lin grabbed Alex’s sleeve. “What was that—?” “Not a monster.” Alex’s pupils sharpened. “Someone fast.” A voice came

The hallway trembled. Dust drifted. Lights flickered. The Collector stood half-formed—its mask cracked, its body leaking ink like a torn shadow. Alex lowered Mei Lin gently against the wall. She was still conscious—barely. Her fingers clutched his sleeve weakly. “…Alex… don’t… don’t let it take you.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I won’t. Not while you’re here.” Her eyes fluttered—pained, but steady. That was enough. Alex turned. His burned arm glowed like molten gold, cracks spreading past his elbow, crawling toward his shoulder. Stage Three was here. One step from losing himself. The Collector reformed fully and raised its arms. Its voice cracked like tearing paper. “Pact-bearers… Submit to collection.” Alex’s answer was a punch. A straight, clean strike wrapped in gold energy. BOOOM— The Collector was thrown back, smashing into a pillar. Ink splattered like blood. The Marshal moved instantly—charging with military precision. He pulled a short baton

The Domain roared. The entire Hollow Stage shook like a living beast trying to rip itself free from its cage. The Collector’s four arms rose high, pulling shadow and ink into one enormous fist. Alex didn’t wait. He launched. Golden fire erupted from his feet—kicking him forward like a cannonball. The air warped behind him, leaving a wake of molten light. The Collector swung its arm down— The Domain giant mirrored the motion— A skyscraper-sized fist came crashing toward him. Mei Lin screamed— “Alex!” He didn’t dodge. He punched upward. Fist versus fist. Gold versus shadow. CRAAAAACK—!!! The shockwave tore through the hall—candles exploded, chairs flew, the floor shattered in a dozen directions. Ink rained like black acid rain. Alex slid back five meters, boots cutting trenches into the floor—but he held his ground. The giant shadow fist recoiled, chunks of darkness falling off it like broken stone. The Collector hissed. “Your flame is loud… but not whole.” Alex spat

The world returned to Alex in pieces. A sound first—soft, rhythmic, too fast. Breathing. Not his. Mei Lin’s. Then a weight—his head resting against her shoulder as she half-carried him through the Arcade’s dim corridor. Finally—pain. A deep, burning pulse crawling under his skin. Not violent. Not wild. Controlled. Like something inside him was… moving. Alex’s eyes opened slowly. “…Mei Lin.” Her breath hitched. She tightened her grip on him. “You’re awake,” she whispered. “You idiot. You scared me.” Then, quickly—too quickly—she added: “I mean, you scared the Marshal. Obviously. Not me.” Alex let out a weak smile. “Sure.” But the smile faded fast. Because he heard something else. Not Mei Lin. Not footsteps. Not the Marshal scanning ahead. A voice. Soft. Cold. Inside his skull. “Flame chosen…” Alex froze mid-step. His vision blurred for a moment— The world flickered gold— And the whisper continued: “Do not resist.” “Your shape is not complete.” “You

The Sacrificers moved like broken puppets—jerking, twisting, then locking their joints at unnatural angles. Red moonlight dripped across their bodies like liquid blood. Alex took only two steps toward them— When the world shifted. Not physically. Inside him. The burn on his arm exploded into a rush of fire that flooded his chest, his eyes, his breath. Vessel Mode. Stage One Ignition. A whisper hissed through his skull: “Run toward death, and death will let you pass.” Alex stumbled, knees weakening under the sudden surge. His vision blurred—red leaking into the edges. The Sacrificers saw it. They screamed with joy. A twisted chorus: “FOUND—FOUND—FOUND—IT—THE VESSEL—THE VESSEL—THE VESSEL—” Then they charged. --- 1. The Marshal Moves First The first Sacrificer leaped forward like a spider, rope whipping through the air. Before Alex could react— The Marshal slammed into him from the side. “DOWN!” Alex hit the ground as a silver blade cut through the air where his thr