The stone dais lurched, sending a deep tremor through the cathedral. Fractured pillars groaned like metal under stress.
Matthew staggered, catching Sora's arm just as the Mask of the Forgotten flickered and let out a sharp ping—a sound too crisp to belong to stone or glass.
The second Rin stepped forward. Each footfall landed a split second late, as if the world needed time to render her.
"Stability is optional," she said, her voice stretching into harmonics that made Matthew's teeth ache.
"Accept the update and your memories will remain…mostly intact."
The real Rin raised her hand toward the floating interface. Her fingers skimmed a ribbon of collapsing code, every character dripping like molten light.
"Matthew," she hissed, "don't answer anything. Not even in your head."
But the private channel pulsed again, brighter, harder to ignore.
Last chance to recover origin key.
Confirm? [Y/N]
Matthew's heart hammered. He hadn't touched anything. But the option Y blinked faster, hungry for a choice he hadn't made.
Sora pulled the Mask tight against her chest. "If it finishes the update, it won't need our consent."
The second Rin smiled—perfect, sterile, inevitable.
"Consent," she echoed. "Is a legacy feature."
A deafening pop split the air. Above them, the shattered dome reassembled for a heartbeat, glass shards freezing mid-air like suspended code.
Then the world froze.
Everything—sound, light, breath—stopped.
Except the blinking cursor in Matthew's mind.
Y | N