The passageway wasn't silent this time.
A sound escaped when it opened—an echo resembling the rubbing of metal, but devoid of metal. Eva felt the sound not in her ears, but directly in her spinal cord. It was as if it were rubbing against her very being, not just her body.
The ground was hard. Sharp. The moment she stepped on it, Eva knew this was an unforgiving place.
There was no sky.
In its place, there was a dark, motionless ceiling. No clouds, no stars. Just a deep, layered darkness. Light sources were indistinct; everything was distinguished by shades of gray and black.
"This place…" Dora whispered, "is wrong."
Jenna didn't speak. For the first time, her face was truly tense. Her eyes searched for something, but she didn't know what it was.
"Damn active," Hatoshi said. His voice was lower than usual. "There is no pacification in this universe."
Clementin stepped forward. He was quick, but this time not uncontrolled, but alert.
"Somexane," Jenna finally said. "But… not as we know it."
The city was far away. It was just a silhouette. The buildings were crooked; not architecture, but forced. It was as if the city was struggling to maintain its own existence.
As they began to walk, Eva felt the first impact.
Her breath didn't shorten. Her heart didn't race.
But her thoughts grew heavy.
Each step made decision-making more difficult. Each advance took a piece of her will.
"This curse," Eva said, "targets the intention, not the body."
Dora stopped. "I can't sense the rules."
That sentence was dangerous. Dora's ability was to sense order. There was no order here.
Or there was—but of a kind the human mind couldn't perceive.
As they reached the city's entrance, the first entity awaiting them appeared. It wasn't humanoid. Nor was it an alien. It was more… like a concentrated shadow.
It made no sound.
But Clementin took a step back.
"This thing," he said, "isn't moving, but it's aggressive."
Eva closed her eyes. She used the ability she'd gained in the first universe. She listened to the space. There was a knot in the void.
"The key," she said. "It's here."
The ground cracked. No light seeped through. The darkness intensified.
An object rose from within. It wasn't physical, but it had a material weight.
Jenna approached. "This isn't an object. This is… a condition."
The key was meant to be accepted, not held.
Hatoshi reached out his hand. He withdrew it.
"No," he said. "She doesn't want me."
Clementin lunged forward. "Then I—"
Eva grabbed his arm. "No. Here, the hasty lose."
The key suddenly turned towards Dora. Dora froze.
"Me?" she said in astonishment.
The ground cracked even more. The shadow entity moved.
"Dora," Jenna said harshly. "Accept it."
Dora closed her eyes. He couldn't see the rules, but for the first time… he couldn't feel them either. And that was exactly what the curse wanted: emptiness, not submission.
The key disappeared.
The shadow entity retreated.
But it wasn't without cost.
As they advanced deeper into the city, the curse grew stronger. The voices began. Not whispers; accusations.
Clementin's breathing quickened.
"It's slowing me down," he said, clenching his teeth. "This place… is forcing me."
"Because you're resisting," Hatoshi said. "This universe punishes resistance."
As they passed a structure, Eva paused for a moment. The image changed. She saw Clementin.
He lay on the ground.
There was no blood. But there was no life either.
Eva shuddered.
"Did you see?" Jenna asked immediately.
Eva nodded. "A possibility."
Jenna's face hardened. "This universe doesn't give prophecies. It warns."
The second key was inside a passageway. The passage was narrowing. The walls were shifting. Dora couldn't pass.
"I'll stay here," she said. "If there are no rules, I won't force it."
Eva, Jenna, and Clementin passed through. Hatoshi entered last.
Middle of the passage, Clementin stumbled.
"Clementin!" Eva cried.
The ground shifted. A momentary void appeared.
Clementin didn't fall.
But a part of him remained.
His breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened.
"Something…" he said. "They took something."
Hatoshi knelt beside him. "Not your time," he said. "Not your life."
"What did they take?" Eva asked.
Hatoshi didn't answer.
The second key was taken. But nothing was ever the same again.
As the city receded, Somatpa's name echoed. It became a promise.
And for the first time, Eva felt this:
In the next universe, someone would die.
This wasn't a possibility, it was a consequence.
And damnation awaited its choices.