The corridor was different.
Not just the building—although that, too, had warped into something stranger—but the air itself. The walls of stone exhaled softly, like lungs unloading vapor. The floor no longer clanged with the impact of Kyle's feet. Instead, it was absorbed.
And at the periphery, there was music.
A gentle chime, like a lullaby being played on a well-worn piano.
Kyle grit his teeth. With what had happened with the Watcher, he had learned never to think a thing innocent again.
System Message:
"Proximity Alert: Third Fragment Detected."
"Location: Memory Hall."
Memory Hall.
He proceeded down, sword in hand, but the corridor warped abnormally. No matter how far he went, the end never came any closer. Until finally, a doorway appeared—not in the direction of the end, but on the side.
He halted.
The door was open.
From inside, the music was louder. But it wasn't music anymore—it was whispers. His name.
"Kyle…"
"Kyle…"
He opened the door and stepped inside.
There was an enormous chamber made of mirrors within. Thousands of them, held aloft in the air, stacked one on top of the other like sheets of reality folded upon folded. All of the mirrors cast a soft light, as if depicting a different scene.
And in one of them—
He saw himself.
Younger. Bloody. Crying.
Alone.
It was massacre day. The night it all went away.
Kyle's jaw creaked. He attempted to look away, but the system would not permit it.
System Message:
"Memory Fragment Identified."
"To procure the Third Fragment, you will have to confront your Origin."
A mirror drifted into him and grew. What transpired within became a reality. It engulfed him whole.
—
He was there.
Not watching.
Loving it.
The screams returned first. The bitter scent of smoke and charred blood. His hands—trembling small ones—clutched his sister's. They were running, shuffling down flame-lit corridors.
And the shadows.
Black-armored soldiers. Silencing swords. Voids for eyes.
Kyle, the boy, screamed. But no one heard him. Not really.
The adult Kyle, living it again, tried to react—but couldn't. Couldn't draw his sword, couldn't raise the alarm. Was a ghost stuck in his own past.
Forced to relive it.
Watched as the shadow hit.
His sister fell. Slowly. Too slowly.
And something broke inside him.
Just as it had before.
—
System Message:
"Origin Triggered."
"Trait Evolved: [Endless Resolve] → [Soulbound Wrath Lv.1]"
"Emotion Threshold Surpassed. New Path Unlocked."
The mirror shattered around him, but Kyle did not shriek this time.
He stood frozen, silent, eyes cold steel.
The Memory Hall vanished.
Now he was in the center of a black shrine. Suspended above an altar hung the final Gate Authority Fragment—glowing white, humming quietly.
No threats.
No traps.
Only him.
He stepped forward and placed his hand on it.
System Update:
"Third Fragment Achieved."
"Gate Authority Level: 100%"
"Trial Completed."
"Gate Transition Available: Do you wish to proceed?"
Kyle. did not hesitate.
"Yes."
The world exploded all over again—not in violence but in letting go. A thousand whispers of farewell as the Trial shattered into stars.
Outside the Trial
His body stunned as he returned to the world of facts— although what was "real" now was something to doubt. He was still in the lower level of the Gateworld but his surroundings had changed again. The walls here were smoother and darker and inscribed with stars and celestial runes.
And at the opposite end of the chamber…
Was a stranger.
A woman, silver-eyed, wearing white armor.
"You made it," she murmured. "Took you long enough."
Kyle's brow rose. "You were waiting?"
She smiled faintly.
"I'm the Warden of the Gate. And since you've passed the Trial. the true journey begins."