The alarm rang in the dead of night like a fist breaking glass. Dust-covered messengers brought confirmations: Velarn had concentrated forces beyond what the Station had assumed — shock troops, specialized rune-shapers, two heavy siege machines and three squads of capture-runners. The HUD flashed red with cold statistics:
ALERT: VELARN_STRIKE_IMMINENT — WINDOW: 24h
COMPOSITION_EST: 140+ ENEMY / 10 RUNE-SHAPERS / 2 HEAVY_MACHINES / 3 CAPTURE_RUNS
RECOMMENDATION: PRIORITIZE_CORE_DEFENSE / DISTRIBUTE_MILITIA / ACTIVATE_EMERGENT_PATCHES
Lyra spent the night issuing orders: mobile barricades, archer bands, concentrated fire points. Renna delivered armed caravans as reinforcements; Thosk supplied spear-bracers and a Hammer of Iron detachment. The square that had hosted oaths became a war works—stakes, nets, alarm crystals. Kaito fixed his gaze on the console: the option to use the Administrator to desynchronize capture-runners existed—and the cost no longer frightened him as it used to; wounds and memories had become common currency.
At first light, Velarn struck. The attack came in waves. The first charge, cavalry with runic flames, tried to break the low walls; Lyra, atop a stone breastwork, commanded the V formation. Cavalry exploded into jets of light — magics that turned metal into blades of pain. Lyra executed the Bone Route repeatedly, cutting mounts’ harnesses at the pulse and toppling three riders in a single motion. The air filled with iron and a foul stench.
On the west flank, the capture-runners moved like surgical teams — men with devices pinching the air, searching for the Anchor’s pulse. Mara and Serah countered with counter-runes and seals; Serah made a series of precise cuts into support crystals feeding the runners, while Mara detonated micro-shorts that fried sync wires. Still, two runners found openings and attempted to plant probes.
Kaito looked at the HUD option:
ADMIN_ACTION: MASS_DESYNC (EXECUTION WINDOW: 00:03)
ESTIMATED_SUCCESS: 82% — COST: MEMORY_FRAGMENT (MEDIUM)
SIDE_EFFECT: TEMP_JAM_RUNES (r=75m) / NOTIFY: VELARN_MONITORING
Cold calculation: success = core protected; cost = an invisible hole in his own past. He accepted. Fingers trembling, he typed commands in symbols no one else would see as code—for the others it looked like typing. The world’s pulse shifted for three seconds.
The effect was immediate. The runners froze; signals blurred; several capture devices failed. The HUD logged victory and price:
RESULT: MASS_DESYNC — SUCCESS
COST: Kaito_MEMORY_FRAGMENT (MEDIUM) -> LOST: CHILDHOOD_HOME_IMAGE (STRONGER_FADE)
XP: +560 (Tactical Save)
VELARN_ALERT_LEVEL: ESCALATED
Kaito felt the void like a cold hand behind his neck—the image of the house where he grew up blurred. There was no time to grieve: on the south wall, the heavy machines began raising rune harpoons. A harpoon latched a support tower; if that piece fell, the net stabilizing the wrap would wobble. Lyra ordered a shock team. Jón, always up front, advanced—and fell. A harpoon pierced his thigh; blood spurted like ink. He collapsed into Kaito’s arms. The scene repeated: wide-open eyes, surprise.
Mira ran, hands of remedy and iron; she stitched, pressed, chanted—but it was too late. Jón closed his eyes. There were few sobs, many clenched teeth. Kaito roared; rage became a solid thing that burned from navel to jaw. There would be no more delay.
The second wave was mages: a formation of rune-shapers tried to sync a pulse of pain that would collapse the defenders. Mara launched Short-Circuit and paid a price: a temporary loss of capability—she went into shutdown for hours. Lyra, bloodied, forced a path to the mage-leader and felled him with a blow that shattered the man’s hand bones.
The battle raged for hours. In the end they repelled Velarn: damaged machines, useless capture-devices, cut supply lines. But the cost: thirty wounded, six dead (including Jón), runic oil reserves reduced by 28%, structures damaged. The HUD declared dryly:
BATTLE_OUTCOME: DEFENSE_SUCCESS (HIGH_COST)
CASUALTIES: 30 WOUNDED / 6 KIA (JóN incl.)
RESOURCE_DRAIN: RUNIC_OIL -28% | STRUCTURE_DAMAGE: SIGNIFICANT
REPUTATION: +18 (PUBLIC_SUPPORT) | VELARN_FORCES: TEMP_REPULSE (REASSEMBLE)
When the dust settled, Kaito sat among shards of crystal. The loss of Jón had dissolved something in him: hesitation hardened into a cutting frown. He knew Velarn’s next move would be colder, more calculated—and that the Station, even under the pact, might not survive another siege of such scale.
At the journey’s end, the HUD displayed a notification nobody wanted to read:
MAIN_QUEST_UPDATE: FINAL_SEAL_WINDOW SHRINKING (T < 18h)
SIDE_QUEST: PREPARE_TRIAL_DEFENSE (HAVEL_TRIAL) / ALERT: POSSIBLE COORDINATED ASSAULT (VELARN + BLACK_CHAIN)
Kaito wiped blood from his hands. The nostalgia for the home that had faded now hurt more than any cut. He went to Jón’s makeshift grave, placed the companion’s knife there, and whispered: “Not alone.” Then he stood—because war and accounts do not wait for mourning.
Tribunal in Flames
The city became hypersensitive; Havel’s trial was set for noon in the public tribunal that no longer offered emotional safety. Havel—the magistrate caught in documents with the Black Chain—sat impassive as witnesses came forward. The HUD logged the event:
MAIN_EVENT: HAVEL_PUBLIC_TRIAL — OBJECTIVE: EXPOSE / PUNISH / SET_PRECEDENT
ATTENDEES: PUBLIC + TRIBUNAL + MEDIA + MERCHANT GUILDS
RISK: ASSASSIN_DISRUPTION / LEGAL_MANEUVERS
The first witness was the nun who documented the forged medical records. She spoke with steady voice about children used as guinea pigs, about signatures faked. The crowd held its breath; Renna tightened her fingers on her staff. Next, a merchant produced bank transfers showing payments for supplies that never arrived: direct, technical evidence. Each testimony raised the clamor.
But shadows moved. In the afternoon break, an explosion shook the tribunal’s east wing—a small bomb meant to terrify, but with enough force to scatter witnesses. Smoke thickened; people ran. Kaito heard the HUD:
ALERT: COURT_BOMB — POSSIBLE BLACK_CHAIN_SABOTAGE
RECOMMENDATION: PROTECT_WITNESSES / EVAC_PROTOCOL / DEPLOY_MEDIC_TEAMS
Kaito ran, kicked aside a burning screen, and found the nun lying wounded by shrapnel. Mira was there; words were useless—she improvised a tourniquet with a tribunal sash and sang until the pulse steadied. The attempt was clear: silence with minimal trace. Havel, pale, kept his composure. Havel kept his silence.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
What followed was procedural chaos: the prosecution demanded security, Ellor proclaimed order; outside, Corvin issued statements accusing bias. The public, split between anger and fear, seized on the moment.
Late afternoon brought the decisive moment: Judge Del took the stand and read a document previously unrevealed—correspondence within the Tribunal, including orders signed by Havel that authorized inspections in poor villages under the pretext of “public health” — which enabled experiments. The crowd murmured. Havel, cornered, protested; Renna and Edran exchanged looks.
When Havel was called to explain, a band of thugs tried to storm the testimony wing—their intent: assassinate Del and the nun and bury the case. The attack was violent and close. Lyra rose like a blade; she intervened and cut through, but Del took a blade in the arm and bled. The scene was raw: a judge down, blood staining documents.
The crowd ignited. Some called for execution; others begged for order. Kaito had to choose: use the Administrator to scrub evidence that might drive the crowd into riot (maintain order) or protect the truth even if it cost chaos. The HUD presented, blunt:
CHOICE_HUD: (A) DATA_WIPE (ERASE_TAMPER_LOGS) -> TEMPORARY_ORDER — COST: MAJOR_MEMORY_FRAGMENT
(B) MAINTAIN_PUBLIC_RECORD -> RISK: CIVIL_UNREST / POSSIBLE_MILITARY_INTERVENTION
Kaito’s hands trembled. He remembered children in the notes, the nuns, Jón fallen in the previous dawn. He chose truth. He did not erase anything. He preferred truth that bled to burning more memories to calm people.
The result was explosive: provocations flared in some streets, but the public—now witness—demanded action. Havel was provisionally arrested; Del, bleeding, gave testimony with a weak hand—and named names. The HUD logged the consequences:
TRIAL_RESULT (DAY1): HAVEL_ARRESTED (PROVISIONAL)
IMPACT: TRUST_INDEX TRIBUNAL — FURTHER_DROP
RISK: BLACK_CHAIN_REPRISAL (HIGH) | PUBLIC_MEASURES: MOBILIZE_GUARDS
At night a messenger delivered something that chilled Kaito’s blood: a packet sealed with the Guild of the Staff’s mark. Inside, a sheet of code—a sequence that was almost impossible to appear to ordinary eyes—blinked on the HUD with a title that made the air go thin:
ADMIN_PROMPT: SYSTEM_VISION_AVAILABLE — MODE: DIRECT_INTERACTION
DESCRIPTION: "ALTERNATE_EXIT_PROCEDURE" -> SHOWS POSSIBLE ROUTES HOME
COST_ESTIMATE: MEMORY_LOSS (%) / REGIONAL_IMPACT (LARGE) / POLITICAL_COST (SEVERE)
REQUIRE: CONFIRM_EXECUTE (YES/NO)
It was an offer—not mercy but cold arithmetic. The System, by some bug or design, presented an option promising exit. The terms were cruel: it would cost pieces of his identity and possibly ruin the alliance they had built. Kaito felt the world close around the question: to return would save his mind and abandon others? Or use the price to build a greater bridge for those who stayed?
He spent the night awake, the packet in hand, while the court soothed its wounds and the city armed again. Deep inside he already felt that the next choice would be the most decisive of his life.
Vision of the System
Kaito entered the chamber where the Anchor rested alone. The lights were dim; the leader-crystal gave off a warm glow—a reminder of the sacrifice that had brought it. The HUD displayed the prompt:
ADMIN_PROMPT: ALTERNATE_EXIT_PROCEDURE. He breathed, and for the first time since waking in Aethel, felt the acute sensation of standing between two doors closing.
He confirmed VIEW DETAILS and the console conjured a vision—not a voice but an interface that translated into images and costs, like someone drawing a decision tree on his chest.
The tree had branches, each tagged with a price:
-
IMMEDIATE ROUTE (TRANSFER)
-
Description: activate a protocol that deallocates your consciousness from the world's flesh and attempts to reinstantiate it in your original world via an emergent loop.
-
Cost: Core Memory: 40% (names, old affective memories), Partial Identity Loss (35% chance of personality loss), Political Rupture (public pact = automatically revoked), Regional Damage: unstable anchor fallout (some villages lose wards).
-
Success Probability: 42% (variable).
-
Moral Consequence: you return—but not as who you were. People who depend on the pact suffer.
-
-
SHARED ROUTE (TRANSFER + PROTECTION)
-
Description: use the Anchor to create a new instance—the Kaito who leaves, but leaving a partial “guide” (an administrative shadow) bound to the Wrap; this fuses part of his core with the Wrap’s structure, limiting both existences.
-
Cost: Core Memory: 25% (personal memories trimmed), Anchor Integrity: -35% (may never allow exit again), Relation: allies keep protection for a limited time; you lose most of what made you human.
-
Success Probability: 61%
-
Moral Consequence: saves the world temporarily, but sacrifices who you are; prevents true return for others.
-
-
CONTROLLED ROUTE (POLITICAL ROUTE)
-
Description: the System offers a simulation—create mass consent that accelerates the Wrap closure and unlocks a portal with community cost. Lower identity risk, but requires massive political activation; failure causes Wrap dissolution.
-
Cost: Populace Fragments: +10% regionally (shared memory loss), High risk of Velarn strike, Time: weeks → months.
-
Success Probability: 29% (depends on politics, not the System).
-
Moral Consequence: more ethical, but drags the populace into the cost; can destroy territories if Velarn disrupts the process.
-
Below the branches the console displayed a cutting summary:
ADMIN_PROMPT: CONSEQUENCE_PREVIEW
IF_ROUTE(1) -> +50% VELARN_EXPLOIT (IMMEDIATE) / TRIBUNAL_CLAIM +90% (LEGAL)
IF_ROUTE(2) -> ANCHOR_INTEGRITY REDUCED -> FUTURE_EXIT: IMPOSSIBLE
IF_ROUTE(3) -> TIME_COST: EASTERN_PROVINCES BECOME VULNERABLE -> CITIZEN_CASTR
Numbers hit Kaito like stones in the stomach. Simulating possibilities was a skill his programming life had given him—but seeing the price in lives yanked him from cold logic. The Administrator offered options; the man before the console weighed what remained of his heart.
Lio slept on a bench outside; Mara, still showing burnout, watched with unreadable eyes; Lyra kept vigil. Kaito thought of Mira sewing, of the idea that spending a life of sacrifices to return alone would be theft. He thought of Jón’s laugh with a piece of bread.
The HUD placed a timer:
WARNING: FINAL_SEAL_WINDOW: T < 12h
SYSTEM_PROMPT_AUTOTIMEOUT: IF_NO_ACTION -> PROMPT_RETURNS_PROBABILISTIC (RANDOMIZED)
The feeling was of slime and being forced to choose. He clicked EMULATE to simulate the impacts. The Immediate Route flashed: Kaito reappeared on a rainy street, eyes empty of certain memories; Aethel’s news said “pact ruptured; villages lost wards; plagues spread.” Too high a cost.
The Shared Route showed an echo of him—a shadow who spoke to people in his voice, issuing instructions but not tasting coffee; the final line:
ANCHOR->INTEGRITY -35% -> FUTURE_EXIT: BLOCKED. Leave and stay, at the same time, with a cost to the soul.
The Controlled Route showed parliaments and juries, thousands of signatures. Slow, collective, ethical—but if it failed, Velarn’s reaction would be devastating. If it succeeded, maybe hope for all—only not for Kaito in the short term.
He touched the leader-crystal, tasted iron. The choice was made not on the board but in his gut. He clicked CANCEL and exhaled. Not cowardice—calculation: sacrificing himself now would give Velarn moral cause to destroy everything; he was not selfish enough to sacrifice the pact’s future for his escape. He understood that each day eroded his mind like slow acid.
The HUD recorded the decision clinically:
CHOICE_MADE: POSTPONE_ADMIN_ROUTE — PRIORITIZE: FINALIZE_BIND + DIPLOMACY + TARGETED_STRIKE (VELARN_COMMAND)
IMPACT: PERSONAL_MEMORY_DEGRADATION (CONTINUES) | STRATEGY: HIGH_RISK_HIGH_REWARD
Kaito left the chamber feeling he had renounced something for now—and the renunciation hurt more than any blade. He drafted a plan: accelerate the pact finalization, send a small strike team to cut Velarn’s logistic command (a surgical strike on the supply network), and if everything failed, reevaluate the ADMIN_PROMPT. It was the best rational—and moral—strategy he could conceive.
As he crossed the corridor the HUD blinked again—an admonition, not an offer:
SYSTEM_LOG: ADMIN_USAGES_COUNT = 18 (HIGH) — RISK OF CORE_FRAGMENTATION UP 27%
RECOMMENDATION: MINIMIZE_DIRECT_INTERVENTION / DELEGATE_TASKS
The warning summed the truth: every use drained him. Kaito closed his eyes, feeling simultaneously the cost of not leaving and the burden of staying. Silently he vowed—to himself and to the dead—that he would do everything to ensure no one else would have to pay memories to live.
The clock moved. Political and military war continued. He had a choice, and every path cost. For now, he chose to remain—and to pay another way.