The battlefield had gone silent, but the silence felt heavier than the fight itself.
Raiyen remained standing, outwardly unshaken, yet his breathing had grown uneven. The Six Eyes were closed, their sky-blue glow gone, but their weight lingered inside his mind like pressure that refused to fade. His body looked perfect—untouched, unscarred.
That perfection was the problem.
His hand trembled without warning. Fingers numbed as if they no longer fully belonged to him. Veyra noticed immediately.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes," Raiyen replied.
The lie sounded hollow—even to him.
From the shadows, Korrin stepped forward, her gaze not on his body but on the layer beneath it. She focused on the rhythm of his Soul Flame, the subtle distortions others couldn't perceive.
"…Your body is healing," she said quietly.
Then she paused.
"But your soul is lagging behind."
Raiyen blinked.
For a fraction of a second, the world desynchronized. Sound arrived late. Light bent strangely. It felt as if he had stepped half a second into the future and failed to return properly. The Limiter Rings flickered in response.
"So this is the cost…" he murmured.
Korrin didn't soften the truth.
"Immediate Heal restores your body to its optimal state instantly. But your soul has to move just as fast to keep up."
Her voice lowered further.
"Every time you correct your body… you're dragging your soul forward by force."
The implication hung between them.
"How many times can I use it?" Raiyen asked calmly.
Korrin met his gaze without hesitation.
"Until your soul breaks."
There was no anger in him. No denial.
Only calculation.
Deep beneath Earth's crust, the Devourer stirred within its chains. This time it did not attack. Instead, it released something far more dangerous—a whisper.
Temptation.
It slipped through cracks in reality, bypassing barriers, sliding into Raiyen's awareness like one of his own thoughts.
You don't tire.
You don't die.
Then why wear limiters?
Raiyen's body stiffened.
The Six Eyes flickered open reflexively—just a flash of sky-blue. The whisper distorted under their gaze, its edges tearing apart.
"Stay out," Raiyen muttered through clenched teeth.
Korrin's expression changed for the first time in genuine alarm.
"The Devourer is speaking to you," she said. "That's never happened before."
Raiyen exhaled slowly. "Because now it knows I won't fall quickly."
Before the tension could settle, another effect struck.
A vision.
He saw himself standing above Earth—alone. The sky fractured. Cities silent. No allies at his side.
The image vanished violently, and Raiyen dropped to one knee.
"Future bleed," Korrin whispered grimly. "Second side effect of the Six Eyes."
"When you look into the future too often… it starts looking back."
The boundaries between present and possibility were thinning.
Veyra stepped in front of him, defiant.
"That's enough. No more."
Raiyen looked up at her.
"If I stop," he said quietly, "the Devourer won't."
He made a decision then—not about the enemy, but about himself.
"Immediate Heal only if death is guaranteed," he declared. "Regeneration limited. No unnecessary correction."
The Limiter Rings reacted instantly, stabilizing as if acknowledging the rule set. Earth's balance steadied in response.
Far across the planet, Aira felt a sudden heaviness settle in her chest, like the echo of a choice that affected her too. She didn't know why—but she knew it was him.
"Raiyen…" she whispered.
Hidden beyond visible dimensions, the Architects observed.
"He's restraining even that ability," one noted.
The Observer's voice was thoughtful. "That makes him more dangerous."
In the depths below, the Devourer's chains rattled violently.
"CONTROLLED HEALING… ANNOYING."
For the first time, irritation sharpened its tone.
Back on the surface, Raiyen stood alone for a moment.
His body was flawless.
His soul was tired.
He clenched his fist, feeling both truths at once.
"Winning isn't just about killing," he said quietly to himself.
Korrin approached once more, her voice softer than before.
"The Six Eyes will keep you alive," she warned. "But if you rely on them too long…"
"…you'll start forgetting who you are."
Raiyen turned toward a nearby reflective surface and looked at himself.
"I'll remember," he said.
But when he shifted slightly, his shadow moved a fraction of a second too late.
A delay.
Deep underground, the Devourer's voice echoed like grinding stone.
SOULS BREAK SLOWER THAN BODIES.
Raiyen's reply was calm—steady, and edged with something far more dangerous than anger.
"Before that happens," he said quietly, "the work will be done."