The world around Matthew buzzed—like a screen left on too long, its edges flickering with static. He didn't remember falling asleep, but he woke on cold stone beneath a shattered dome of glass. The Cathedral. But it wasn't whole. Its pillars bent in unnatural angles, shadows stretching like vines into the air.
Sora sat nearby, holding the cracked Mask of the Forgotten, its surface twitching—sometimes showing her face, sometimes someone else's. Rin stood at the edge of the dais, staring at a floating interface etched into nothing, lines of broken code unraveling with every heartbeat.
The games had changed. There was no countdown this time. No card. No system voice. Just a blank message looping in the air:
"You are not where you were meant to be."
"What does it mean?" Matthew asked, his voice dry, more to himself than the others.
Sora didn't answer. She was too focused on the symbols now appearing on the walls—the same symbols from the King's Trail, twisted and repeating. She traced them with her finger, whispering something like a prayer or code.
Suddenly, the cathedral doors slammed open—though there was no wind. A figure stepped through.
It looked like Rin.
But Rin was already here.
"…Another game," the second Rin said. But her voice echoed wrong, too perfect, too clean.
Matthew's heart sank. The real system hadn't ended. It had adapted.
And this time, it was copying them.