"…I choose—"
Raen's voice shattered the silence.
And the world responded.
The Eye of the Origin trembled above, pulsing with a light not of radiance, but of raw decision. The glass sea beneath him split wide open with a deafening crack, as though fate itself had been waiting—holding its breath—for this single word.
But he hadn't spoken it aloud.
He hadn't said "yes."
He hadn't said "no."
And so the Origin screamed.
> "Indecision is rebellion. You were meant to ascend."
The voice was no longer calm. It was anger, pure and unbound. The masked version of himself stepped back, cracking apart like a brittle reflection, bloodless and hollow. The broken blade fell from his hands.
Raen stood at the threshold of impossible choice—and instead, he chose to fall through it.
"Power given is power stolen," he whispered, voice hoarse. "I won't take your gift."
