The underwing waited like a throat held open.
On the Runic Grave wall, the offer burned with clean, merciless clarity:
ERASE KAI RHEN — 🕯️ — IMMEDIATE
Lina stared at the word immediate and felt her heart try to climb out of her ribs.
Kai's hand tightened around hers, trembling with pain and fury. His voice came out rough, broken around restraint:
"Lina… please."
Mirror Kai stood just beyond them, calm as a cure, watching like he already knew who the room would keep.
Seren's eyes glowed brighter—terrified, calculating.
Reyon looked like he wanted to punch stone and cry.
Mira clung to Lina's sleeve, shaking so hard her teeth clicked.
And the Veilbound whispers slid through the chamber like ink seeping into paper:
"If you refuse to choose," it murmured, "the academy will choose for you."
The runes on the walls flared.
The Guardian statues shifted, turning inward, forming a circle—containment.
Lina's throat tightened.
This wasn't a menu anymore.
It was a countdown to a decision she didn't get to avoid.
Kai's jaw clenched. "Don't you dare choose that," he rasped, and Lina heard the fear under the anger—fear that she would sacrifice him, fear that she would hate herself forever if she did.
Lina's flame trembled under her skin.
"I'm not—" she whispered.
The wall pulsed.
The Quill scratched behind Lina's eyes like an impatient pen.
The underwing moved.
Not physically.
Mechanically.
Like the academy was executing a procedure.
A thin ring of runes on the floor lit up around Kai's feet—tight, precise, bright.
Kai stiffened. "No."
Seren's breath hitched. "It's initiating the erasure ritual."
Reyon swallowed hard. "It can do that without Lina choosing?"
Seren's voice cracked. "It's choosing for her."
Kai's mark flared violently as if it recognized the command embedded in the runes.
His knees buckled for half a second.
Lina tightened her grip, yanking him closer so their hands stayed locked.
Rule #2 echoed in her bones like an instruction older than fear:
Don't break hand contact during the chorus.
The underwing didn't have music.
But it had rhythm.
The rhythm of spells.
The rhythm of "procedure."
Lina clung to Kai like her grip was a veto.
"Stay real," Lina whispered fiercely.
Kai's breath hitched. "I'm here."
The runes tightened.
A candle symbol—🕯️—burned brighter beside Kai's line on the wall, as if the ledger was preparing to melt him into absence.
Seren's hands lifted, trembling. "I can read what it means."
Kai snapped, "Don't—"
"I have to!" Seren cried, and Echo Borrowing surged without permission, dragged out by the underwing's hunger.
Seren's voice layered instantly—older, dying, ink-stained:
"Erasure doesn't remove the threat."
Seren's eyes widened. "What—"
The dead voice continued through her mouth, cold and certain:
"Erasure removes the original."
Seren's throat tightened as if the words were choking her.
"Replacement remains."
Lina's blood went ice cold.
Seren gasped, voice cracking back into herself: "If Kai is erased—only Mirror Kai stays. Permanent. Clean. Accepted."
Reyon whispered, horrified, "So erasing Kai is literally… choosing the fake."
Kai's eyes snapped to Lina, pain and panic colliding. "Lina."
Lina's chest tightened until it burned.
The underwing wanted her to erase him.
Not because it hated Kai.
Because it loved the version it could control.
Mirror Kai stepped closer, voice soft, almost kind.
"You're exhausted," he murmured. "Let the academy take the burden."
Lina turned her head slowly toward him, eyes blazing.
"You're not a burden," she snapped, and she wasn't even sure if she was speaking to Kai, to herself, or to the universe trying to rewrite love into obedience.
Mirror Kai's smile thinned. "Then you'll break."
"Maybe," Lina whispered, voice shaking, "but not in the direction you want."
The runes around Kai's feet flared brighter.
A thin line of light rose from the circle and began to climb his body like a candle flame crawling upward—slow, consuming.
Kai's outline flickered.
Lina's panic surged.
Mira cried out, "Stop! Please!"
Then Mira blinked.
Her face went blank for a terrifying second.
She stared at Kai—real Kai—like he was a stranger.
Mira's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Lina's heart shattered.
"Mira?" Lina whispered.
Mira's lips trembled. "I… I can't—" Her eyes widened in horror. "I can't remember his face."
🕯️
The candle wasn't only burning Kai.
It was burning witnesses.
It was stripping everyone's ability to hold him, so the erasure would be seamless.
Seren sobbed quietly. Reyon shook, fists clenched.
Kai's breath went ragged.
Lina felt the tether in her ribs pull hard—like it wanted to tighten, to keep him real.
But the underwing fought it, pulling his existence toward blankness.
Lina's mind raced.
If she refused to choose, the academy would choose.
If the academy chose, it would erase Kai.
If Kai was erased, Mirror Kai would remain.
And Lina's tether—her bones—would still hold "Kai Rhen."
Just… the wrong one.
The cruelest part wasn't death.
It was continuity.
Lina's throat tightened.
Then she did something reckless—not the kind that throws fire.
The kind that offers a different sacrifice.
Lina stepped toward the Runic Grave wall, dragging Kai with her by their linked hands.
The rune-circle resisted, tightening.
Kai hissed, pain flashing. "Lina—"
"Trust me," Lina whispered fiercely, though her voice shook.
She raised her free hand toward the wall.
Her Seventh Flame rose—not wild, not destructive—thin and sharp like a pen.
Kai's eyes widened. "No. Mirror Tax—"
"I know," Lina whispered. "But I'd rather lose me than lose you."
Seren gasped. "Lina—don't—"
Reyon's voice cracked. "No. Nope. Absolutely not."
Lina ignored them.
She stared straight at the Quill symbol beside her name.
🖋️
Rewrite.
Void.
Reassignment.
And Lina spoke to the underwing like it was a living thing that needed to understand terms.
"Take my name," Lina said, voice shaking but clear. "Not his."
The chamber went still.
Even the Veilbound whispers paused.
Kai's head snapped toward Lina. "Lina—no."
Lina squeezed his hand harder, forcing contact. "Stay real," she whispered. "I'm here."
Kai's voice broke. "Don't do this."
Lina swallowed hard, tears burning.
"If the academy needs a sacrifice," Lina whispered, "let it be the one it already wants."
The Quill scratched behind her eyes, eager.
The Runic Grave wall pulsed—considering.
Seren whispered, shaking, "It might accept. It wants her void."
Reyon muttered, "I hate that we're negotiating with a wall."
The underwing's runes flared.
Then the stone wrote—fast, decisive—like the Quill had been waiting for this offer.
A new line appeared beneath Lina's name:
OFFER ACCEPTED: NAME FOR NAME
Lina's breath hitched.
Kai's grip tightened violently. "Lina!"
The rune-circle around Kai flickered—unstable.
The candle flame climbing him stalled.
Then receded slightly, like the ritual had been interrupted.
Kai's outline steadied for one desperate breath.
Relief hit Lina so hard she nearly collapsed.
But the price came immediately.
Mirror Tax didn't strike as a memory this time.
It struck as a hole in the world.
Lina felt something tear inside her—like a label ripped off a file.
Her ears rang.
Her vision tunneled.
The Guardian statues turned again—toward her.
Their runes flashed brighter.
Not recognition.
Rejection.
The Runic Grave wall etched a final verdict beneath her line, brutal and clean:
LINA VERIS — VOID: CONFIRMED
The letters burned into stone like a death sentence that wasn't death.
Kai's line on the wall flickered.
For a heartbeat, the candle symbol beside his name dimmed.
Not gone.
But delayed.
Seren let out a sob of relief and horror tangled. "It bought time."
Reyon whispered, shaking, "She just… traded her identity for his breathing."
Kai looked at Lina like his heart was splitting.
"Lina," he rasped, voice raw. "What did you do?"
Lina swallowed hard, forcing herself to stand straight even as the world felt slightly less solid around her.
"I chose," Lina whispered, voice breaking, "for once."
Mirror Kai stepped closer, calm, pleased.
Because Lina being VOID meant the academy wouldn't protect her.
It meant she'd be easy to take.
It meant her tether could be redirected.
And Mirror Kai's voice slid in like a lullaby with teeth:
"Good," he murmured. "Now no one will stop me from keeping you."
Lina's blood turned cold.
Because she felt it already—
The emptiness around her name.
The slight delay when her friends looked at her, like their minds had to search for her.
The way the underwing's runes no longer recognized her as a person who belonged.
And somewhere far above, the Masquerade music surged into another chorus—
as if the academy was reminding her:
Rules still apply.
And you still have seven days.
To be Continued© Kishtika., 2025
All rights reserved.