Kael's stomach churned. "…Move? How do I even control it?"
"Intuition," Pip said. "And panic. Mostly panic."
Kael gaped. "…Really?"
"Absolutely. Panic is surprisingly effective," Pip replied cheerfully.
The chamber was vast—ruined, flooded with stagnant water, and lined with statues of long-forgotten gods. Faint inscriptions glowed on the walls: warnings, prayers, forgotten names.
The hunters appeared at the far end. More than Kael had ever seen at once.
They advanced in silence, shadows flickering unnaturally. Their conceptual blades cut the very air around them, making reality pulse in warning.
Kael's chest tightened. "…I don't think I can do this."
"Wrong answer," Pip said, hovering near his ear. "Do or die, boy. Literally. And no, neither is fun."
Seris pressed her hand to the ground. Cracks of crystal light extended outward, forming barriers that slowed the hunters' advance.
"Move when I do," she whispered. "And remember—Authority is not strength. It's leverage. Use it carefully."
Kael nodded. He gritted his teeth.
The first hunter reached the barrier. It struck. The barrier cracked, and Kael felt the threads above its head flicker.
Instinctively, he reached out. The fragment of death inside him surged.
Reality bent.
The hunter froze mid-step. Then, like a snapped puppet, it collapsed.
Kael staggered. "I… I did it again."
"Yes," Pip said. "And each time you do it, you risk your own erasure. But also… you're learning."
Seris' eyes met his. "…And that is why you're dangerous. But alive. For now."
A low, vibrating hum echoed through the chamber. Kael's hair stood on end.
"That hum," Seris said softly. "It's not them. Something older has noticed you."
Kael swallowed. "…Older than hunters, older than the Empire?"
"Yes," she whispered. "And curiosity in this city is rarely merciful."
Kael's stomach dropped. Pip floated close, glowing faintly.
"Lesson three," it said. "Chaos doesn't ask permission. It doesn't negotiate. And you, boy… you are its favorite toy."
Kael clenched his fists. The rain of the ruined city seemed far away now. He was trapped in the undercity, surrounded by enemies, carrying Authority that could erase reality… and the world above had already noticed.
"…Then I guess," he whispered to himself, "…we keep moving."
Seris nodded. "Exactly. One step at a time. That is how unwritten lives survive."
The hunters advanced. The chamber's water rippled. Shadows coiled along the walls. And above it all, faintly, Kael felt a pulse of something immense and alien.
Something that wasn't a hunter, wasn't a god, wasn't even human.
Something that could unmake him…
The chamber pulsed.
Not just from the flickering blue light of Seris' crystal arm, not from the dripping water. Something alive—older than cities, older than walls—stirred. Kael felt it through his chest, through the fragment of Death now tethered to his soul.
The hunters advanced in perfect formation. Their conceptual blades shimmered, slicing reality where they passed, carving faint tears in existence.
Kael's stomach churned. "…How do I survive this?"
"By doing exactly what I tell you," Seris said. "And by not dying."
Pip floated closer, spinning like a tiny sun.
"Lesson four, boy. Chaos loves fear. Chaos loves mistakes. Chaos adores you. So, leverage it, manipulate it, or it eats you."
Kael's hands shook. "…I don't even know what that means."
"Good. That means you're thinking, which is the first step," Pip said.
Seris pressed her hand to the floor. Crystal light erupted along the cracks. Barriers extended, forming a shimmering cage of slowed time in front of them. The hunters froze as their blades struck, reality bending and pulsing with resistance.
"Move," Seris whispered.
Kael nodded. He focused on the thread above the nearest hunter. The faint, pale line quivered in the air like a taut string.
"…Here goes nothing," Kael muttered.
He pulled.
Reality tore.
The hunter's movement halted. Its blade shimmered midair. Its body convulsed unnaturally, caught between existence and nothingness.
Kael's vision blurred. His chest ached. The fragment of Death inside him screamed like it had been ripped from the void.
"Yes! That's it!" Pip shouted. "You're bending existence! You're borrowing what is not yours! Feel the chaos!"
Kael stumbled backward. "…I'm going to die!"
"You already are," Pip said cheerfully. "Just not completely yet!"
Seris' eyes were sharp. "…Control it! Use less, or it will kill you!"
Kael took a deep breath. He had to focus. He had to stabilize the thread. Slowly, carefully, he wove the hunter's existence into his own fragment of Death.
The hunter collapsed. The air snapped back into place.
Kael's knees buckled. He pressed his hands against the wet stone floor, trying to breathe.
"Good. First kill without losing your soul… mostly," Pip said.
Kael shook his head. "…Mostly?"
"There's always a cost," Seris said. "Every time you borrow a concept, even a fragment, it takes a piece of your essence. You're fragile, Kael. That's why you survived the guillotine. But you're not invincible."
Kael swallowed hard. "…Then why do it?"
Seris' eyes glimmered. "…Because if you don't, they erase you completely. And even I can't stop that."
The other hunters closed in, their steps synchronized, like shadows obeying a single will. Kael felt threads above each of their heads, fragile and shimmering.
"…I can't control all of them!" he shouted.
"You don't need to!" Pip said. "One at a time! One at a time! Chaos loves focus!"
Kael focused on the nearest hunter again. The thread pulsed. He reached into it.
And then, the ancient presence revealed itself.
The walls of the tunnel bent. The water rippled unnaturally. Shadows stretched and twisted, forming a vast shape in the chamber. Something massive. Something not bound by the city, or reality itself.
Kael felt it in his chest, in his very soul. A pulse of awareness, hunger, and judgment.
"That," Seris whispered, "is not a hunter. It is older. Far older. And it knows you are here."
The massive shape moved. The chamber walls groaned. The hunters froze, as if sensing something greater than themselves.
Kael's hands trembled. "…What is that thing?"
"A god… or something older," Seris said. "A being that has watched existence for longer than your mind can comprehend. And it is curious about you."
"Curious," Pip said cheerfully. "The kind of curiosity that wants to rip you limb from limb."
The hunters surged again, using the distraction to advance. Kael's mind raced. The threads above them pulsed in warning. His fragment of Death screamed for release.
"…I don't know if I can do this!" Kael shouted.
"You will," Seris said firmly. "Because if you don't, you die. And not like before—you cease."
Kael gritted his teeth. He focused. Slowly, carefully, he reached for the threads. One. Then another. Then another.
Reality twisted and snapped around him. Hunters collapsed, walls groaned, water splashed violently. The chamber trembled.
Kael felt the cost immediately. His vision blurred. His legs shook. His chest burned. Every time he used the fragment, a part of him seemed to… fade.
"Yes!" Pip shouted. "Learning! Progress! Chaos management! You're alive! Mostly!"
Kael fell to the ground, panting. "…Mostly alive…"
Seris knelt beside him, placing her crystal hand on his shoulder.
"You survived," she said. "But that was only the beginning. The city has noticed your anomaly. And the presence that just stirred… it will not forget you."
Kael swallowed. "…Then what now?"
"Now," Pip said, spinning in excitement, "we teach you to survive the impossible… one thread at a time."
Kael looked at the hunters, at the flickering shadows, at the massive alien presence looming beyond perception, and then at Seris and Pip.
"…I guess… I don't have a choice."
"Exactly," Seris said. "One step at a time. One thread at a time. That is how unwritten lives survive."
And with that, the undercity trembled again. Reality itself seemed to watch.
Kael Morvane had just begun his journey.
And the universe was already afraid.