Alex didn’t move. Not at first. Not even after the nightmare—no, the judgment—ripped him out of the Tower’s grasp. He sat on the cold metal floor, breath uneven, eyes fixed on something only he could see. The burned hand still glowed faintly beneath the bandage. Not white. Not ghostly. Gold. Mei Lin crouched in front of him, her voice shaky. “Alex… talk to me. What happened inside?” He blinked—once. Slow. Mechanical. Like a person still returning from somewhere too far. “I saw him,” Alex whispered. Jin straightened at the wall, arms crossed. His smirk was gone. For once, he looked genuinely unsettled. “Who?” Jin asked. Alex exhaled, the breath shaking as it left him. “The First Lockmaker.” The room went silent. Even the faint hum of the broken lights seemed to pause. Mei Lin’s fingers froze on Alex’s sleeve. Jin’s jaw clenched. “…That’s impossible,” he said quietly. “He died before the first Collapse. He died before any of us were even born.” Alex’s voice was

The Tower did not settle. Even after the Arbiter’s beam faded even after Alex’s golden chains shattered even after the Eye closed— The crack remained. A thin split in the metal floor, glowing gold and white, leaking heat, leaking whispers. Alex stared at it, chest heaving. His right hand twitched—uncontrolled. The golden lines beneath his skin pulsed like veins caught in a lightning storm. Mei Lin knelt beside him. “Look at me, Alex. Stay awake.” His breath shook. “I’m fine.” He wasn’t. His pupils kept flickering from normal to gold, as if something behind them kept trying to take over. Jin stood several meters back, not daring to get closer than necessary. “That crack shouldn’t exist,” he muttered. “I’ve seen anomalies. Echoes. Residue scars. But this—this is something else.” Mei Lin snapped at him without looking away from Alex. “Then help.” Jin shook his head slowly. “I am helping. I’m staying the hell out of its range.” CRACK— The gold

The Tower did not lead them out. It led them in. Corridors folded. Steps stretched. Walls bent and whispered like wet paper warping under heat. Jin ran ahead, checking corners with the twitchy precision of someone who had survived too many wrong turns in too many Domains. Mei Lin supported Alex, practically carrying him as the golden veins pulsed up his shoulder, spreading like fire under thin skin. Every few steps Alex staggered. Every few steps Mei Lin tightened her grip. “Stay with me,” she whispered. He exhaled shakily. “I’m trying.” But the Burn was accelerating. His chest felt heavy—like someone had pressed a hot chain through his ribs. Jin finally stopped at a split in the hallway. Two paths. Left: a corridor filled with mist. Right: a staircase that slanted upward impossibly, each step painted with a faint red hue. Jin sucked in a breath. “It’s here.” Mei Lin looked around, confused and tense. “What’s here?” Jin pointed to the misted corridor. “The Door

The Tower shook. Not like an earthquake— but like something alive had just woken up under the floor. Alex grabbed Mei Lin before she collapsed. Her whole body trembled, breath broken into short, panicked bursts. The golden mark on her chest burned through her shirt, a thin line spreading outward like cracks on porcelain. Alex’s own Burn pulsed in answer. Gold to gold. Light to light. Like two heartbeats syncing. “Mei—look at me,” Alex said, voice rough. “I—I can’t—” Her voice broke. “Alex, what is happening to me?” He held her shoulders, steady and firm. “I don’t know.” That was the truth. And it terrified him. The Light Spread The glow didn’t stop at her chest. It crept to her collarbone. Then her throat. Then her right hand. The exact opposite side of his Burn. Left hand for him. Right hand for her. Mei Lin grabbed her wrist, gasping. “It’s burning—Alex, it’s—” Alex pressed his hand over hers. The Burn inside him roared. Like a heartbeat answering a call

The Collectors moved first. Six porcelain masks turned in perfect unison, their metal limbs clicking into attack positions. They didn’t charge like beasts—they glided, silent and smooth, like they were sliding along invisible rails. Alex’s entire body tensed. “Mei—behind me. Now.” But the moment Mei Lin stepped back, the lead Collector mirrored her movement, as if tethered. Jin cursed under his breath. “They’re linked to her Mark. Wherever she goes—they track.” The air thickened, turning cold enough that Mei’s breath came out white. The Collectors raised their hands. And the street broke. Concrete rippled like water. Cracks spread outward in perfect geometric lines—patterns that looked eerily like chains. Mei stumbled. “Alex—!” “Don’t move!” Alex shouted. But the ground lurched again. A chain of light—thin and red like a bleeding thread—snapped up from the street and coiled around Mei’s ankle. Mei screamed, grabbing the wall to keep herself upright. Alex didn’t think.