Aren woke up with a memory that wasn't his.
Rain.
Heavy.
Unrelenting.
Mud swallowed his feet as he ran.
Not through ruins—
Through a field.
Shouts echoed behind him.
Steel clashed.
"Don't stop!"
The voice wasn't his.
A hand grabbed his arm—
rough—
urgent—
"Keep moving!"
Aren stumbled—
—and woke up.
The ruins returned.
Dry.
Silent.
Wrong.
His breath came sharp.
Controlled.
But not steady.
"…Aren?"
Tomas's voice cut through.
Aren blinked.
He was standing.
Not lying down.
Not resting.
Standing in the middle of the street.
"…How long?" Aren asked.
Tomas didn't answer immediately.
"Long enough," he said finally. "You didn't move."
Aren frowned.
"I was—"
He stopped.
He didn't know what he was doing.
The memory lingered.
Not fading.
Not like the others.
It stayed.
Wrong.
"…We need to go," Aren said.
Tomas didn't move.
"You said that already."
Aren looked at him.
"…I did?"
Silence.
Tomas nodded slowly.
"You said it. Then you stopped. Just… stood there."
Aren's grip tightened on the kris.
That hadn't happened before.
Before—
He lost things.
Now—
Something was being added.
And that was worse.
The threads around them pulsed faintly.
Unstable.
Not reacting to danger.
Reacting to him.
"We're leaving," Aren said.
This time—
he moved.
Tomas followed.
But closer than before.
They didn't speak for a while.
The city stretched ahead—quiet, broken, watching.
Then—
Tomas stopped.
"Aren."
Aren turned.
"What?"
Tomas pointed.
The threads ahead—
Weren't moving.
They were—
Looping.
Overlapping.
Tangling into themselves.
"Is that normal?" Tomas asked.
Aren stared.
"No."
The threads pulsed faster—
erratic—
unstable—
Then—
They snapped.
Not outward.
Inward.
A pulse hit the air.
Tomas gasped—
And dropped.
"Aren—!"
He clutched his head.
The world bent.
The threads surged around him—
not avoiding—
not guiding—
Attaching.
"Tomas!"
Aren moved—
Too late.
The threads had already reached him.
They wrapped around Tomas's arms—
his chest—
his throat—
Not tight.
Connected.
[THREAD INTERFERENCE DETECTED]
[UNALIGNED HOST: ENGAGED]
Tomas screamed.
Not in pain—
In confusion.
"I—!"
His voice broke.
"…I remember—!"
Aren froze.
The words hit harder than anything else.
"Remember what?!" Aren snapped.
Tomas's body trembled violently.
"Something—I don't—!"
His eyes widened.
"…She's calling me."
Aren's chest tightened.
"No," he said immediately. "That's not real."
But Tomas wasn't listening.
His gaze drifted past Aren.
Focused on something that wasn't there.
"She's there," Tomas whispered. "She's been waiting—"
Aren stepped forward.
"Look at me."
No response.
The threads tightened—
just slightly—
"…I left her," Tomas said.
Aren stopped.
"…What?"
Tomas's voice shook.
"I ran," he whispered. "I didn't go back."
The threads pulsed—
stronger—
feeding into it.
Aren's grip on the kris tightened.
"That's not what's happening," Aren said. "That's not this."
But he wasn't sure anymore.
Because the threads—
They weren't forcing it.
They were showing it.
"Make it stop," Tomas said suddenly.
His voice broke.
"Make it stop."
Aren hesitated.
Resonance.
It would work.
It had to.
But—
Cost.
Again.
And this time—
Not just him.
Aren stepped forward anyway.
"I've got you," he said.
Tomas didn't respond.
The threads surged.
[RESONANCE AVAILABLE]
Aren reached out—
And stopped.
Because something else moved.
Not the threads.
Not Tomas.
Behind him.
Watching.
Aren turned—
And felt it immediately.
Pressure.
Heavy.
Controlled.
Familiar.
The leader of the Anak ng Digmaan stood at the edge of the alley.
Silent.
Observing.
"You see it now," he said.
Aren's jaw tightened.
"Stay out of this."
The leader didn't move.
"You're not equipped to handle that," he said calmly.
Behind Aren—
Tomas screamed.
The threads tightened further.
"Then help," Aren snapped.
The leader shook his head once.
"No."
Aren's eyes hardened.
"…Why?"
The answer came without hesitation.
"Because this is the cost."
Silence hit harder than the words.
Aren's grip trembled.
Behind him—
Tomas choked out—
"Aren… please…"
Aren closed his eyes.
Just for a second.
Then—
He made his choice.
The kris flared.
[RESONANCE ACTIVATED]
Pain followed.
Immediate.
Violent.
The threads snapped toward him—
Not resisting.
Accepting.
Aren forced them apart—
Pulled them away from Tomas—
Thread by thread—
Memory by memory—
Something tore loose.
Not from the threads—
From him.
A voice.
Clear.
Close.
Gone.
Aren's breath hitched—
But he didn't stop.
The threads released Tomas.
All at once.
He collapsed.
Still.
Silent.
The threads fell back.
The air steadied.
Too quickly.
[RESONANCE COMPLETE]
[TARGET STABILIZED]
[COST: MEMORY FRAGMENT LOST – CRITICAL]
Aren staggered.
Something was wrong.
Not missing.
Worse.
He looked down at Tomas.
"…Are you okay?" Aren asked.
Tomas didn't respond.
Aren frowned.
"…Why are you here?" he asked.
Silence.
Then—
Tomas flinched.
Slowly—
He looked up.
And for the first time—
There was fear in his eyes.
Not of the world.
Of Aren.
"…You don't remember me," Tomas said.
Aren didn't answer.
Because he couldn't.
Behind them—
The leader of the Anak ng Digmaan exhaled quietly.
"…Now you understand," he said.
Aren didn't turn.
Couldn't.
Because something far worse had just begun.
[THREAD ESCALATION: CRITICAL]
And this time—
It wasn't taking fragments anymore.
It was taking people.