Kael swept the status window aside, his golden eyes running down every line.

  He wanted to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.

  A detail.

  A fragment.

  Something that might have slipped past him in the chaos.

  And there it was.

  A strange line wedged between his recent skills.

  **Shroud of Death — Rank C — Effect: access to the Otherworld.**

  He narrowed his eyes.

  No… he’d never noticed that before.

  Maybe because of the string of fights.

  Maybe because of the specters.

  Maybe because his mind had been drowning under everything.

  A short breath.

  He lifted his head.

  — “Thana, come here a second. I want you to look at a skill I got… from the specters on the third floor.

  I only noticed it just now. The name means nothing to me… but you, maybe?”

  She came at once, her halo faintly vibrating.

  — “Wait… show me.”

  Her tiny eyes froze.

  Silence.

  Then an incredulous breath.

  — “Mmmh… yes, I know it.

  But how… how did you get this so early?”

  — “No idea. I’ve only just seen it. With everything that happened… it must have slipped under my radar.

  From what I can tell, it’s tied to those two specters on floor three.”

  He watched her dark silhouette, his golden eyes glowing in the half-light.

  — “Well? Do you know what it is? Because it only says ‘grants access to the Otherworld.’”

  A heavy silence.

  Thana glanced away for a heartbeat.

  Then she nodded slowly.

  — “Yes. That sums up its use well enough.”

  She paused.

  Her halo shivered.

  — “When you activate this Shroud, your being slips out of phase.

  You’re no longer exactly *here*.

  You cross into… the Otherworld.”

  She raised her eyes to him, graver.

  — “Even though we’ll still see your body, no one will be able to touch you.

  No blade.

  No breath.

  No magic.”

  Kael frowned.

  — “The Otherworld, then… what is it?”

  She sighed.

  A cold breath.

  — “You… I know you. So I’ll simplify.

  The Otherworld… is the realm of the **dead**.”

  Kael stood silent.

  His golden eyes thinned.

  — “And there are risks, I assume…?

  Because let’s be honest, total immunity without a downside… stinks of a trap.”

  Thana clicked her tongue.

  Her gaze sharpened.

  — “You’re right. It isn’t free.

  Not at all.”

  She stepped forward, her halo flaring with icy intensity.

  — “When you raise this Shroud, you set one foot on *their* ground.

  The realm of the dead.

  And trust me… those lands never forget an intruder.”

  Her breath clipped.

  — “Stay too long… and the dead will take you for one of their own.

  And they won’t let you go.”

  A weighted hush fell.

  Kael tensed—not from fear—

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  just understanding.

  The Otherworld wasn’t a refuge.

  It was a gamble.

  Thana held his gaze, unblinking.

  — “Listen well.

  One day, you’ll be able to embody my Authority.

  Not a loan.

  Not a favor.

  The Authority of Death—truly yours.”

  Her voice fell, crisp, inexorable.

  — “But not today.

  You’re not yet strong enough.”

  The air itself cooled around them.

  — “As long as you only have the Shroud, you’re bargaining.

  You slip out of phase, put one foot into the Otherworld,

  and you pray to come back before the dead recognize you.”

  Her eyes hardened.

  — “When you embody the Authority of Death, it won’t be a favor.

  It will be a law.

  You’ll walk the Otherworld like home.

  The dead will fall silent.

  The gates will open.

  And nothing there will be able to hold you.”

  A breath.

  Cold.

  Dry.

  — “So be patient, Kael.

  Grow stronger.

  Step by step.

  In your rhythm.

  When the day comes, you won’t just brush their borders.

  You’ll dictate the rules.”

  Kael didn’t answer.

  He absorbed every word.

  The promise.

  The warning.

  He nodded.

  — “Understood.”

  He drew a long breath, then locked his golden gaze into Thana’s.

  His words fell without a hint of detour:

  — “Promise me one thing.

  Help me grow stronger. Faster.”

  He clenched his fists.

  — “Because let’s be honest,

  I feel like you hide ninety percent of what you know from me.

  Always. Every floor.

  Always that filter, always that veil.”

  He turned his head, lips curling bitterly.

  — “Maybe it’s for my own good.

  Maybe you think you’re protecting me.

  But in the end… nothing good will come of it if you keep smothering me like this.”

  He paused.

  His eyes narrowed—harder.

  — “Don’t forget.

  We’re partners.

  You are **not** my mother.”

  The words cracked through the air like a whip.

  Silence.

  Thana’s halo trembled.

  Her tiny shape quivered—barely.

  As though an invisible line inside her had snapped clean.

  Because the words, brutal as they were…

  were true.

  And yet they hurt.

  Straight through the chest.

  A shiver crossed her features.

  She looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

  Why did those words hurt so much?

  Since when?

  Since when had she reacted like this?

  The answer rose, cruel and sharp.

  Had she… despite herself… taken that role?

  Ever since the death of his own parents?

  Ever since that whispered vow, in the “car accident,” barely a breath from her mother?

  *Protect him.

  Whatever it takes.*

  Her tiny fingers curled inward.

  She remembered.

  And maybe—

  without noticing—

  she had crossed a line.

  She had wanted to be more than a guide.

  More than a partner.

  A shield. A guardian.

  Perhaps… a surrogate mother.

  The realization sickened her.

  Thana lowered her head.

  Her halo shivered—

  caught between pride and grief.

  Between Absolute and attachment.

  She said nothing.

  But her silence weighed heavier than any retort.

  Kael didn’t move.

  He had thought he’d free himself.

  That saying it would loosen something in his chest.

  Give him air.

  Space.

  But nothing eased.

  Instead—

  guilt.

  Raw.

  Crushing.

  He saw again how she had looked away.

  The tremor of her halo.

  The fracture he had carved.

  He had hurt her.

  His breath hitched.

  His fists clenched—

  caught between defending himself

  and swallowing his words.

  Silence pressed down.

  Heavy.

  Smothering.

  Deep down, Kael understood.

  He hadn’t won anything.

  He had only added another scar.

  And that victory tasted like ash.

  Kael bowed his head.

  His rough breath snagged.

  For a moment, he had believed it would help.

  That it would lighten him.

  That breaking that dynamic would free him.

  Instead—

  the void.

  And the sting.

  Pathetic.

  The word hissed in his mind.

  He spat it inward.

  Scum.

  Selfish.

  Heartless.

  He clenched harder—

  nails carving his palms.

  Thana had given everything.

  No hesitation.

  No reserve.

  And he…

  He had thrown her devotion back in her face.

  She carried the weight.

  She took every blow.

  She saved him again and again.

  And he had the gall to say that to her?

  His breath shortened.

  Heat crawled up his neck.

  His chest tightened.

  Granted—

  she had gone too far sometimes.

  Smothering him.

  Wrapping him in cotton.

  But never to harm.

  Never for herself.

  Always for them.

  So why…

  why had he needed to crush her?

  Shame knifed through him—

  cold.

  His inner voice cracked like a lash:

  *“Saying that… was pathetic.”*

  A dull sound rang out.

  Not in the room.

  Inside him.

  Kael froze.

  His chest clenched—

  as if an invisible hand crushed it from within.

  Then—

  the crack.

  Dry.

  Sharp.

  Unbearable.

  Not bone.

  Not flesh.

  **Deeper.**

  His mind split.

  Shame, anger, guilt—

  all compressed into that fracture.

  And in that hollow,

  *something waited.*

  A cold breath climbed the back of his neck.

  Not his.

  Another’s.

  A whisper seeped through the crack,

  like black water through broken stone.

  — *You’re hurting.*

  — *Let me carry it.*

  — *You… rest.*

  His pupils flared.

  Breath cut short.

  He tried to protest—

  nothing came.

  The fracture widened.

  And the shadow

  **poured in.**

  Thank you for reading ??