TIME PERIOD: FORTY MINUTES PRIOR TO THE SHATTERING
Maria knew something was wrong before she saw them.
Not because the forest changed.
Because her body did.
The pressure came first—low, familiar, buried deep beneath her ribs. It didn't spike. It didn't surge.
It settled.
Like something inside her had stopped pretending.
Her breath caught.
Just once.
She held it there, steadying herself before it could become visible.
Too late.
"You feel it too, don't you?"
Lee's voice slipped through the trees like it belonged there.
Maria didn't turn immediately.
She didn't need to.
The air had already shifted.
Not colder.
Not heavier.
Just… occupied.
She exhaled slowly and lifted her head.
Lee stood a few paces away, watching her like she had been there long before Maria noticed.
Smiling.
Not wide. Not playful.
Certain.
"You always did hate being late to your own suffering," Lee continued softly.
Maria pushed herself upright.
The motion was controlled.
Deliberate.
Her hand did not reach for her chest.
Not yet.
"Say what you came to say," Maria replied.
Lee tilted her head, amused.
"That's the problem," she said. "I didn't come to say anything."
A pause.
Her smile sharpened.
"I came to listen."
The pressure tightened.
Maria's fingers curled slightly at her side.
Behind Lee, something moved.
No sound.
No step.
Just presence.
Maria's eyes shifted past her.
Bloom stood there.
Somewhere above the canopy, the light shifted.
Not dimmed.
Tilted.
The gold of late afternoon stretched thin between the branches, losing warmth without losing brightness.
The forest didn't darken.
It quieted.
Subtly.
Deliberately.
Maria noticed.
Her eyes flicked upward for half a second.
Then back to him.
Bloom continues to stare at Maria.
As if he had been the one waiting.
Not arriving.
Waiting.
The pressure in her chest pulsed—
Hard.
A flicker of black traced briefly beneath her collarbone.
Gone.
But not unnoticed.
Lee's gaze dipped.
"There it is…" she said softly.
Not mocking.
Not quite pleased.
Something closer to recognition.
Her expression didn't change much—but the amusement thinned, just slightly.
"You weren't supposed to let it get this far," she added, quieter now.
Maria clenched her jaw.
"I'm fine."
Bloom ignored that completely.
"You've been difficult to find," he said.
His voice wasn't cold.
It wasn't warm.
It didn't carry anything at all.
Maria laughed once under her breath.
"Then you shouldn't have lost me."
Lee let out a quiet, delighted sound.
"Oh, I missed this version of you."
Maria didn't look at her.
She couldn't.
Because the pressure was building again.
Not outward.
Inward.
Like something inside her was folding against itself.
Bloom stepped forward.
One step.
The forest didn't react.
But the space between them did.
Maria felt it immediately.
Her balance held—
But the ground no longer felt trustworthy.
"You were not meant to be found yet," Bloom continued.
Maria's eyes sharpened.
"Then your plan failed."
A beat.
Lee clapped once.
Soft.
"Careful," she said. "You're starting to sound like you still have choices."
The pressure spiked.
Maria's hand moved this time—
Quick.
Subtle.
Pressing flat against her sternum.
Holding.
Containing.
Lee watched the movement with open fascination.
"Still trying to keep it quiet," she murmured.
Maria's voice dropped.
"Don't."
Lee's smile widened.
"Don't what?" she asked. "Look?"
Her gaze didn't leave Maria's chest.
"Or understand?"
Bloom's eyes narrowed slightly.
Not at Lee.
At Maria.
"Your condition is accelerating," he said.
Maria laughed again.
This time it didn't sound like anything.
"You don't get to call it that."
Lee stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Not cautious.
Curious.
Like approaching something already broken.
"I do like this part," Lee said softly. "The moment where you realize you can't hold both things anymore."
Maria's breath stuttered.
Just slightly.
"Shut up."
Lee leaned in just enough to see her eyes clearly.
Lee stepped closer.
Not careful.
Not threatening.
Familiar.
"Which one are you trying to hold onto?" she asked.
A pause.
Her voice softened just a fraction.
"The mission… or him?"
A pause.
Then, quieter—
"The mission… or the boy?"
The pressure didn't spike this time.
It dropped.
Deep.
Heavy.
The air shifted again.
This time—
Maria felt it.
Not in the trees.
Not in the wind.
In the space between breaths.
Her eyes moved—just slightly—toward the canopy.
The light was wrong now.
Thinner.
Fading.
Her stomach tightened.
…No.
Not yet.
If nightfall came now—
Her fingers twitched against her chest.
This wasn't just a conversation anymore.
Something moved deeper in the forest.
Not loud.
Not close.
But closer than it should have been.
Maria's fingers trembled against her chest.
Bloom spoke before she could answer.
"Kagan has already begun tracking."
Silence.
Maria didn't react.
Not outwardly.
But something inside her—
Shifted.
Lee's expression flickered.
Interest.
"Oh," she said softly. "That landed."
Maria's voice came out quieter than she intended.
"…You're lying."
Bloom didn't respond immediately.
That was the answer.
Lee's smile returned.
"Once he has your scent," she said lightly, "you don't get to decide when you're found."
Maria's hand tightened against her chest.
Her nails pressed into fabric.
Into skin.
"Then kill him," she said.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Lee laughed.
Bloom didn't.
"You know I can't do that," he replied.
Maria's eyes snapped up.
"Then send someone who can."
Her voice cracked.
Just barely.
"Or is this where you tell me everything is still under control?"
Lee's gaze softened for a fraction of a second.
Almost pity.
Almost.
Then it was gone.
"You really don't see it, do you?" she said.
Maria didn't answer.
Because she did.
That was the problem.
The pressure surged again—
And this time it didn't stay contained.
A thin line of black spread beneath her skin.
Slower now.
Visible.
Alive.
Lee watched the black spreading beneath Maria's skin.
For a moment—
She didn't speak.
Didn't smile.
Didn't move.
"…You should've said something," she muttered.
It wasn't an accusation.
It wasn't forgiveness either.
Just… frustration.
Maria staggered—
Just half a step.
She caught herself immediately.
But it was enough.
Bloom stepped forward again.
Closer now.
Close enough that she could feel the absence around him.
"Your duty is finished," he said.
Maria froze.
Not from fear.
From impact.
Lee turned her head slightly.
Watching.
Waiting.
Bloom's voice didn't change.
"From this moment forward," he continued, "you are no longer responsible for the boy."
Silence.
The forest held its breath.
Maria's hand slipped from her chest.
Her fingers hung at her side.
Empty.
For a moment—
She didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't think.
Then—
Very quietly—
"No."
Lee smiled.
There it was.
Lee didn't answer right away.
For once, she didn't smile wider.
She just watched her.
"…You really mean that," Lee said quietly.
Not surprised.
Not impressed.
Something closer to tired.
Maria didn't move.
Her chest rose—
Fell—
Too slow.
"I'm not leaving him," she said.
The words felt heavier than they should have.
Like they had already been decided long before this moment.
Bloom stepped closer.
Close enough now that the space around him felt… absent.
"You misunderstand," he said.
Maria's eyes snapped to his.
"No," she replied. "You do."
The pressure surged.
This time it didn't stay contained.
A thin line of black spread beneath her collarbone—
Slower than before.
But deeper.
Lee's gaze locked onto it immediately.
"…Maria."
Her voice changed.
Not soft.
Not sharp.
Focused.
Maria ignored her.
"You don't get to decide when I'm done," she continued, her voice tightening. "You don't get to decide what happens to him."
Bloom's expression didn't shift.
"He was never yours to decide for," he said.
That landed.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
But completely.
Maria's breath caught.
Her fingers curled.
Something in her chest twisted—
Hard.
Lee took a step forward.
"Hey—"
Maria flinched.
Not from Lee.
From herself.
The pressure inside her spiked—
Then fractured.
Her knees buckled—
Just slightly—
But enough.
Lee closed the distance instantly, catching her arm before she hit the ground.
"I've got you," she muttered.
No performance.
No teasing.
Just instinct.
Maria tried to pull away.
Failed.
"I'm fine," she forced out.
"You're not," Lee snapped.
The words came out sharper than she intended.
Her grip tightened.
"…You should've told me."
Maria shook her head weakly.
"There wasn't time."
"There was always time," Lee said.
A beat.
"…You just chose something else."
Maria's eyes flickered.
Toward her.
Then away.
Bloom watched the exchange in silence.
Measuring.
Waiting.
"Release her," he said.
Lee didn't move.
Not immediately.
"…She's not stable," Lee replied.
Bloom's gaze shifted to her.
"You are not her physician."
"And you're not the one holding her together," Lee shot back.
Silence.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
The forest seemed to lean in.
Bloom stepped closer.
The air changed with him.
"Lee."
Just her name.
Nothing else.
That was enough.
Her grip loosened—
Slightly.
Reluctantly.
Maria steadied herself.
Barely.
Her hand returned to her chest.
Pressing.
Containing.
Failing.
"…Please," she said.
The word slipped out before she could stop it.
Lee froze.
Bloom did not.
Maria lifted her head.
Her eyes weren't steady anymore.
They weren't controlled.
They weren't the White Lotus.
They were just—
Human.
"Let me go," she said.
No.
Not that.
That wasn't it.
She swallowed.
Corrected herself.
"Let me take him and leave."
Silence.
The forest didn't move.
The air didn't shift.
Even the pressure inside her seemed to pause—
Waiting.
Lee stared at her.
Really stared this time.
"…You'd throw all of this away?" she asked.
Maria didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
The answer came too fast.
Too clean.
Too real.
Lee exhaled slowly.
Something in her expression cracked—
Not fully.
Just enough to see it.
"…That's not you," she said quietly.
Maria's voice broke.
"It is now."
The black beneath her skin spread further—
Visible now along her collarbone.
Creeping.
Alive.
Lee's jaw tightened.
"…You're going to die if you keep forcing it like this."
Maria didn't respond.
Because she knew.
Bloom stepped forward again.
Ending the moment.
"Escape is no longer an option," he said.
Flat.
Final.
Maria's eyes snapped to him.
"You don't get to decide that."
"I already have."
The words didn't rise.
They didn't need to.
"You will come with Lee," he continued. "Your condition requires intervention."
"No."
No hesitation.
Not fear.
Just refusal.
Immediate.
Instinctive.
Violent.
Lee flinched—
Not from the word.
From the conviction behind it.
Maria shook her head.
"I'm not leaving him."
Bloom's gaze hardened—
Just slightly.
"Then you misunderstand the situation entirely."
A pause.
Then—
"The moment has already passed."
Something moved in the forest.
Closer now.
Not loud.
Not hidden.
Present.
Lee's eyes flicked toward the trees.
"…We're out of time," she muttered.
Maria felt it too.
The air.
The shift.
The wrongness settled deeper.
Night was coming.
And it wasn't coming alone.
Her grip tightened against her chest.
Her body trembled.
Her voice dropped—
Almost a whisper now.
"…Then I'll run."
Lee looked back at her.
Bloom didn't react.
"Maria—"
"Don't," she cut in.
Her eyes burned now.
Not with power.
With desperation.
"I'm not letting him be part of this," she said.
Her voice cracked fully this time.
"I won't let you turn him into—"
She stopped.
Too late.
The silence that followed was different.
Heavier.
Sharper.
Bloom's eyes narrowed.
Lee didn't speak.
Didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Maria's hand trembled against her chest.
The truth had slipped.
Not fully.
But enough.
And now—
Everyone felt it.
The silence stretched—
Too clean.
Too controlled.
Maria's breathing steadied.
Not because the pressure eased—
Because she stopped fighting it.
Her hand slipped from her chest.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
She looked at Bloom.
Really looked.
And then—
She exhaled.
"…You're not him."
Silence.
Not the natural kind.
The forest didn't shift.
The wind didn't pass.
Even the pressure inside her paused, like something else was listening.
Lee didn't smile.
Not immediately.
Bloom didn't answer.
That was the first confirmation.
Maria tilted her head slightly, studying him like a broken pattern.
"He doesn't talk this much," she continued, voice quieter now.
"And he doesn't repeat himself."
A beat.
Her gaze sharpened.
"And he never wastes words trying to convince someone."
The figure in front of her stood still.
Too still.
Maria took a step forward.
Not aggressive.
Not afraid.
Certain.
"You're explaining yourself," she said. "Bloom doesn't explain."
Another step.
Lee's fingers twitched.
Just slightly.
"…And he doesn't hesitate."
That landed.
The figure's silence stretched half a second too long.
Maria exhaled.
There it was.
She lifted her hand, not to attack.
To point.
Directly at him.
"Whatever you are," she said, voice steady now, "You're trying to act like him."
The word lingered.
Act.
Something in the air shifted.
Lee's smile returned, but slower this time.
Measured.
"…Careful," she said softly.
Maria didn't look at her.
"His presence is wrong," Maria continued, eyes locked forward. "It doesn't weigh anything."
The figure's outline flickered, not visibly.
Not fully.
But enough.
Like fabric remembering it wasn't skin.
Maria's expression hardened.
"And Bloom doesn't stand like he's waiting for permission."
That did it.
The space around the figure… slipped.
Not breaking.
Not collapsing.
Just—
misaligning.
For a fraction of a second, the folds were visible.
Subtle seams.
Too smooth.
Too deliberate.
Like something stitched together to resemble a man.
Maria's voice dropped.
Final.
"…Cut the act."
Silence snapped tight.
Lee exhaled softly through her nose.
Not annoyed.
Not impressed.
Acknowledging.
"…You always notice the wrong things at the worst time," she murmured.
The figure of Bloom didn't argue.
Didn't defend itself.
It simply… loosened.
Not melting.
Not transforming.
But relaxing into something less convincing.
Less human.
The mimic tilted its head slightly.
And for the first time—
it felt empty.
Lee stepped forward beside it.
Now smiling fully.
"This one was behaving so well too," she said lightly, brushing invisible lint from its shoulder. "I was hoping you'd take a little longer."
Maria didn't respond.
Her eyes didn't leave it.
Because now that she'd seen it—
she couldn't unsee it.
There was no person there.
Just something wearing one.
The words landed flat.
Final.
The forest held still.
Then—
Bloom unraveled.
Not violently.
Not dramatically.
The form loosened, threads slipping out of shape before collapsing inward like a puppet with its strings cut.
Cloth.
Empty.
Lee sighed.
"…You always ruin the fun early," she muttered.
Now she wasn't smiling the same way anymore.
Maria didn't give her time to recover the performance.
"I don't have time for your games," she said.
Her voice was steady now.
Too steady.
"You set this up to talk," she continued. "To make me understand."
Lee tilted her head slightly.
Not denying it.
"Then understand faster," Lee replied.
Maria shook her head.
"No."
A beat.
Maria didn't move.
Her chest rose—
fell—
too slow.
"I've already decided."
Silence followed.
But not the same silence as before.
This one didn't belong to them.
It spread.
Outward.
The forest shifted—
then stopped.
No wind.
No leaves.
No distant movement.
Even the light thinned, stretching across the trees like it didn't want to stay.
Maria's eyes flicked toward the canopy.
Just once.
She felt it.
Not pressure.
Not presence.
Something worse.
Approach.
Lee noticed it a second later.
Her gaze drifted past Maria, into the forest.
Her smile didn't disappear—
but it changed.
"…So it's starting already," she murmured.
Not surprised.
Adjusted.
The air settled unnaturally.
Somewhere deep in the forest—
something moved.
No sound.
No step.
Just—
closer.
Maria's fingers curled.
Her breathing sharpened.
"…Kagan," she said quietly.
Lee exhaled through her nose.
"…Not yet," she corrected.
A beat.
"Not here."
Maria didn't relax.
Because that didn't matter.
Her eyes hardened.
"He's gotten too close."
Lee didn't deny it.
The light shifted again—lower now.
Thinner.
Lee tilted her head slightly, glancing at the sky through the trees.
"…We're close to nightfall," she said.
Casual.
Measured.
"Once it turns, the night creatures will start moving."
Her gaze returned to Maria.
"That'll slow him down."
Maria's jaw tightened.
"Slow him," she repeated.
Not reassured.
Lee gave a small shrug.
"It buys time."
That was all.
The forest held its breath.
Then—
Her body stepped forward—
and the knife appeared.
Not drawn.
Not telegraphed.
Already there—
sliding from beneath her sleeve as her arm cut upward toward Lee's throat.
Clean.
Efficient.
Lethal.
Lee's eyes sharpened—
but her body had already moved.
She turned—
just enough.
Maria's blade passed where her neck had been—
close enough to disturb fabric.
Lee's hand snapped up—
two fingers catching Maria's wrist mid-strike.
Not forceful.
Exact.
The motion stopped.
Not slowed.
Stopped.
A twist—
small.
Precise.
Maria's grip broke instantly.
The knife slipped free—
and Lee's foot moved in the same breath.
A sharp kick—
low and controlled—
sent the blade skidding across the forest floor, disappearing into the undergrowth.
No wasted motion.
No excess force.
Just removal.
Lee released her wrist.
Stepped back half a pace.
Reset.
"You're burning yourself out," she said quietly.
Maria pulled her arm back, eyes already tracking where the knife had landed—
calculating distance—
angle—
Timing.
"I don't have the luxury not to be," she snapped.
The pressure inside her surged, visible now.
A faint black line flickered beneath her collarbone.
Lee saw it.
Cataloged it.
And stepped forward again.
Faster this time.
Maria met her, a charged fist raised.
Their movements are sharp, efficient, and deliberate.
No wasted motion.
No hesitation.
Not a full fight but not restraint either.
Testing.
Probing.
Maria drove forward.
Lee redirected.
the ground cracked again beneath shifting weight.
Then, Maria broke away.
Breathing harder now.
Not from exhaustion, from thought.
Her eyes flicked toward the forest again.
Toward the direction she could feel it from.
Toward where Sam was.
"…He's going to reach him," she said.
Not fear.
Certainty.
Lee stopped.
Tilted her head slightly.
She smiled.
"…No," she said.
Simple.
Certain.
Maria's gaze snapped back to her.
"How can you be so sure?" she demanded.
Lee didn't answer immediately.
For once—
She let the silence sit.
Then she stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Not cautious.
Intentional.
"You're not the only one preparing for what's coming," Lee said.
Maria's expression tightened.
Lee's eyes held hers.
Calm.
Unmoving.
"…You really think I'd leave something like this to chance?"
The forest shifted faintly.
The light dipped lower.
Maria's chest tightened.
"Say it," she said.
Lee's smile thinned.
Just slightly.
"Who do you think is keeping the other spartan busy right now?"
The words didn't echo.
They didn't need to.
They landed.
Hard.
Maria's breath caught.
Just once.
Her mind moved—
fast.
Too fast.
"…No," she said.
But it wasn't denial.
It was realization.
Lee watched it happen.
Watched the understanding settle.
And did nothing to stop it.
"That's impossible," Maria added, quieter now.
Less certain.
Lee didn't argue.
Didn't explain.
She just looked at her.
And that was enough.
Because Maria knew.
If Xavier wasn't here—
it wasn't because he chose not to be.
Something had taken his attention.
Something that could.
Maria's fingers trembled.
Just slightly.
The pressure inside her spiked again, this time not from her condition.
From the implication.
Lee stepped back.
Giving her space.
Not out of kindness but because the damage was already done.
"…Now," Lee said softly,
"Are we going to keep talking…"
Her eyes sharpened.
"…or are you finally going to fight like you've accepted what this is?"
Maria's fingers flexed.
The air around her responded.
Not violently.
Not loudly.
But precisely.
A white lotus formed in her hand.
Not grown.
Not summoned.
Allowed.
Petals folding into shape with unnatural symmetry.
From its center, a blade extended.
Clean.
Weightless.
Absolute.
Lee's eyes flicked to it.
"…So that's how you're playing this."
Maria shifted her stance.
Not aggressive.
Not defensive.
Certain.
"…Maria," Lee says quietly.
"Don't," Maria cut in.
Her eyes sharpened.
"I know what you're doing," she said. "And I know why."
A pause.
Her voice lowered.
"But I don't care."
The pressure inside her chest surged.
And this time, she let it.
Black veins spread across her collarbone.
Not hidden.
Not contained.
Lee's expression tightened.
"I don't need long," Maria.
That was the truth.
Lee exhaled through her nose.
Annoyed.
Concerned.
Understanding.
"…You picked the worst possible time to be right," she muttered.
Maria didn't respond.
Because there was nothing left to say.
She moved first.
No warning.
No hesitation.
The strike wasn't fast.
It was inevitable.
The white lotus blade cut forward.
A straight line.
No wasted motion.
Lee reacted instantly.
Her arm lifted.
Cloth unraveling from her sleeve, weaving into form mid-motion.
A blade.
Flexible.
Layered.
Alive.
The two met.
Not with a clash.
With a correction.
Maria's strike didn't stop.
It adjusted.
Sliding along the cloth, cutting through layers without resistance.
Until Lee twisted her wrist.
The fabric shifted.
Redirected.
Absorbed.
Their movements blurred.
Not from speed.
From efficiency.
Maria stepped in.
Closer.
Always closer.
Every strike was a decision.
Every angle removed instability.
Lee stepped around her.
Never meeting force directly.
Never resisting fully.
Always turning.
Always redirecting.
"…You're serious," Lee said under her breath.
Maria didn't answer.
Her blade moved again.
Cleaner.
Sharper.
Closer to the throat.
Lee bent backward.
The cloth snapping tight, catching the edge just before it landed.
A lotus bloomed along the fabric.
White.
Spreading.
Lee's eyes widened slightly.
"…That's new."
She tore the section away instantly.
The infected cloth falling to the ground, blooming fully before dissolving.
Maria pressed forward.
No pause.
No hesitation.
She couldn't afford it.
The black beneath her skin spread further.
Time was already running out.
"I'm leaving," she said.
Not a threat.
Not a declaration.
A fact.
Lee's expression hardened.
"…Not like this, you're not."
The forest shifted behind them.
Something moved closer.
Watching.
Waiting.
Night had arrived.
And it was starting to take interest.
Something broke.
Not in the forest.
Not where Maria stood.
Somewhere else.
Far away.
And yet.
Close enough to matter.
Sam didn't wake up.
Not fully.
The first thing he felt wasn't pain.
It was weight.
Heavy.
Crushing.
Pressing into his chest, his arms, his legs, pinning him to something uneven and cold.
Rubble.
Wood.
Stone.
He couldn't move.
Didn't try to.
Because something else was already happening.
A sound.
No—
Not a sound.
Many.
Layered.
Whispering.
Crying.
Screaming.
All at once.
Sam's fingers twitched beneath the debris.
His right eye pulsed.
Once.
Then again.
A thin line of violet spread across the scar—
Faint at first.
Then brighter.
The voices sharpened.
Not louder.
Clearer.
"…help…"
"…don't leave us…"
"…it hurts…"
"…why…"
Sam's breath caught.
But his body didn't wake.
Not yet.
The rubble above him shifted slightly.
Dust fell across his face.
He didn't react.
Because the world around him wasn't stable anymore.
For a moment, he wasn't under the cottage.
He wasn't buried.
He wasn't anywhere.
Darkness.
Endless.
Familiar.
Sam stood in it.
Unmoving.
Unaware of how he got there.
Or if he ever left.
The voices were gone.
Replaced.
By something quieter.
Something worse.
"You feel it now."
The voice didn't echo.
It didn't need to.
It simply existed.
Sam turned slowly.
Ender stood behind him.
Unchanged.
Untouched.
Watching.
Sam exhaled—
Unsteady.
"…Feel what?"
Ender tilted her head slightly.
Not confused.
Curious.
"The part of you that doesn't belong to you."
The darkness shifted.
Not outward.
Inward.
Like space folding toward him.
Sam looked down at his hands.
They trembled.
Not from fear.
From pressure.
The same pressure—
That had been sitting in his chest for days.
Weeks.
Growing.
Waiting.
"…It's getting louder," he said quietly.
Ender didn't respond to that.
She stepped closer.
No distance.
No hesitation.
"It was never quiet," she said. "You were."
That didn't make sense.
Or maybe—
It did.
Sam's hand moved to his chest.
He felt it.
Not his heartbeat.
Something else.
Something deeper.
Pushing back.
Ender's gaze sharpened.
"Do you understand what's happening?" she asked.
Sam shook his head.
Slowly.
"…No."
"Good."
The word landed wrong.
Before he could ask.
The darkness cracked.
And for a moment, Sam saw it.
Not with his eyes.
Not completely.
Like something forced into his mind faster than he could understand it.
A lotus.
Vast.
Impossible.
Rising.
It didn't grow from the ground.
It erupted from it.
Petals unfolding in silence that felt louder than anything he had ever heard.
White.
Endless.
Each layer expanding outward, upward—
Piercing through the forest.
Through the sky.
Until it reached something unseen.
Something that had always been there.
A boundary.
The lotus touched it.
And the world held its breath.
Then—
It shattered.
Not like glass.
Not like stone.
Like something ancient being broken open.
A shockwave tore outward from the impact—
Violent.
Absolute.
The ocean split.
The forest bent.
The sky itself rippled—
As if reality had been struck.
Everything moved.
Everything changed.
Everything shifted.
And then it was gone.
Pain hit all at once.
His lungs dragged in air.
Sharp.
Uncontrolled.
His body jerked beneath the rubble.
The wood above him cracked shifted
Collapsed slightly further.
Dust filled his mouth.
He coughed.
Choking.
"…nn—gh—!"
The voices were back.
Louder now.
Closer.
His right eye burned.
The violet light flared—
Visible now through the cracks in the debris.
Something beneath the rubble moved.
Not Sam.
Not the wood.
Something else.
The ground trembled faintly.
Responding.
Or reacting.
Sam's fingers dug into the dirt beneath him.
Instinct.
Desperation.
Confusion.
"…Maria…"
The name slipped out.
Barely a sound.
But something heard it.
He didn't know that.
He just knew—
Something was wrong.
And it was getting worse.
His chest struggled to rise—
Then stopped.
Not from the rubble.
From something sitting on him.
Light.
But present.
Warm.
Still.
Sam's eyes cracked open.
Blurred.
Unfocused.
For a moment—
All he saw was fractured light and shadow between broken wood.
Then—
Two eyes.
Looking down at him.
Unmoving.
Watching.
Kitty sat on his chest—
As if she had always been there.
As if nothing else in the world could see it.
Dust shifted around them.
Wood creaked overhead.
But nothing—
Not the debris, not the settling ruin—
Acknowledged her presence at all.
"…kitty…" he rasped weakly.
Her ears twitched.
For a moment, nothing changed.
Then—
"…No," she said.
The voice was calm.
Clear.
And very real.
"That is not my name."
Sam's brow furrowed slightly.
His mind lagged behind the moment.
"…huh…?"
She tilted her head.
Still watching him.
Still unmoving.
"Errya," she said.
The name settled strangely—
Not unfamiliar.
Just… not new.
"That is what you will call me."
Sam blinked slowly.
"…what…?" he muttered.
Errya didn't answer that.
Her gaze softened—
Just slightly.
Something passed through her eyes.
Not amusement.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
"…You look just like him," she murmured.
Not surprised.
Not nostalgic.
Certain.
Sam didn't catch it.
Or maybe he did—
But it slipped past him like everything else.
His breathing hitched again as pain pulled him back into his body.
"…can't… move…"
Errya glanced briefly at the rubble pinning him.
Then back to his face.
Unbothered.
Certain.
"You will," she said.
Not comfort.
Not reassurance.
A statement.
Her tail flicked once.
"…I will not let you die here."
Sam stared at her.
Trying to hold onto the moment.
To stay awake.
"…Maria…" he whispered.
Errya's gaze didn't waver.
"I know," she replied.
For the first time—
She looked away.
Not from him.
Past him.
Toward something deeper.
Further.
Listening.
The forest.
The shift.
The world beyond the rubble.
Then she looked back down at him.
"…So you need to live," she said.
A pause.
Quiet.
Certain.
"Understand?"
Sam didn't answer.
His eyes were already starting to close again.
Too heavy.
Too tired.
Too much.
Errya didn't move.
Didn't try to wake him.
She simply remained where she was.
Resting on his chest.
Watching.
Waiting.
As if guarding something that had not fully awakened yet.
Far above them.
The world was still changing.
But here-
Beneath the rubble—
Something had survived.
For now.
To Be Continued.