Aiden dreamed of silence.
Not peace—absence.
No stars. No ground. No voice.
Just the sensation of falling without direction.
Then—
A tug.
Sharp. Insistent.
Like something tied to his soul being pulled from very far away.
He gasped awake.
---
AFTER THE FALL
Aiden lay on cold stone beneath a sky that no longer felt stable. The air hummed faintly, as if reality itself were recovering from a strain.
Lyra was kneeling beside him, eyes red, hands gripping his cloak like she was afraid he might fade if she let go.
"Aiden—thank the stars—you're awake."
He tried to sit up.
Pain exploded behind his eyes.
He groaned.
Aidem's voice came from nearby.
"Do not move yet."
Aiden blinked.
"Did… the Devourer—?"
"Retreated," Aidem said. "Not defeated."
Aiden exhaled shakily.
"Good enough."
Aidem did not smile.
---
THE ANCHOR'S MARK
Aiden felt it then.
A pull in his chest—steady, relentless.
Like a hook lodged deep inside him, stretching toward something distant.
He pressed a hand to his sternum and hissed.
"Something's wrong."
Lyra nodded quickly.
"Yes. That."
Aidem stepped closer.
"The Continuance Anchor did not disappear," he said. "It bonded."
Aiden's stomach dropped.
"…Bonded to what?"
Aidem met his eyes.
"To you."
The truth landed like a blade.
"So every time that thing is threatened—"
"You feel it," Aidem finished.
"And the Chorus feels you."
Aiden laughed weakly.
"Great. I'm a cosmic alarm system."
Aidem's voice was grim.
"You are now a fixed point. The Maw cannot ignore you. And neither can the worlds bound to that anchor."
Lyra whispered, "Can it be removed?"
Aidem hesitated.
"That would kill him."
Aiden closed his eyes.
Figures.
---
THE FIRST LOSS
Aiden inhaled sharply as the pull intensified.
He cried out.
Lyra grabbed his shoulders.
"Aiden—what's happening—?"
Aidem turned, eyes flaring.
"The anchor is under pressure."
Aiden gasped.
"From where?"
Aidem looked toward the horizon.
"…Another consumption."
Aiden's heart lurched.
"I can't— I'm not ready—"
"You don't have to intervene," Aidem said quickly.
"The anchor is stabilizing passively."
Aiden shook his head, tears leaking from his eyes.
"I can feel them."
The Chorus murmured—confused, afraid.
Aiden gritted his teeth.
"Someone's slipping."
Serathiel's presence surfaced faintly.
Warden… one of us is too far gone.
Aiden choked.
"Which one?"
A vision flashed:
A frozen ring-world, cracked and drifting.
Its star long dead.
Its people already fading.
Aiden sobbed.
"I can't save everyone," he whispered.
Lyra held him tighter.
"I know."
The pull snapped.
The sensation vanished.
Aiden screamed.
Silence followed.
One voice in the Chorus went still.
Gone.
---
GRIEF WITHOUT GUILT
Aiden lay shaking, tears soaking into stone.
"I felt them die," he said brokenly. "Every second."
Aidem knelt beside him.
"This is why Kings chose erasure," he said softly.
"To avoid feeling this."
Aiden wiped his eyes, fury burning through grief.
"Then they were cowards."
Aidem stiffened.
Aiden looked at him.
"And so are you if you think I'll stop."
A long silence.
Then Aidem bowed his head.
"…You are stronger than I was."
---
THE RULES OF ANCHORS
Aidem helped Aiden sit.
"You need to understand the cost," he said. "Anchors are not free. Each one ties you tighter to the Cycle."
Aiden nodded slowly.
"How many can I make?"
Aidem hesitated.
"One," he said.
"Maybe two more—if you survive long enough."
Lyra's breath caught.
"That's it?"
Aidem met Aiden's gaze.
"Beyond that, you will cease to be a person."
Aiden looked at his hands.
"I'll be… what?"
"A nexus," Aidem said.
"A place where worlds attach themselves instead of living."
Aiden swallowed.
"Then we choose carefully."
Lyra squeezed his hand.
"Together."
---
A QUIET PROMISE
Night fell.
The anchor pulsed faintly in the distance—unseen, but ever-present.
Aiden sat awake, staring at the stars.
"I felt that world end," he said quietly. "But I also felt something else."
Aidem glanced at him.
"What?"
"Gratitude," Aiden said. "They weren't angry. They were… thankful. That someone noticed."
Lyra smiled through tears.
"That matters."
Aiden nodded.
"It does."
He clenched his fist.
"And next time… I'll be faster."
Far beyond the stars—
The Origin Maw shifted.
And the ancient Observer watched the Warden who refused to look away.