Kael's hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Not from pain.
Not from fear.
But from something deeper — something that felt like a second heartbeat pounding beneath his skin, pulsing through every thread of his body. The power he'd unleashed back in the plaza—the Thread Raze—hadn't left.
It lingered.
Like it wasn't done with him.
And maybe… he wasn't done with it.
⸻
Lira stood across from him in the hostel's training room, arms folded, her face unreadable.
"That wasn't a Phase Two activation," she said at last.
Kael looked down at his arm. Faint lines glowed black beneath the skin — fractal, shifting slowly like smoke trapped in glass.
"What was it then?" he asked.
"A fracture," she said. "You didn't enter Phase Two. You broke through it."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that the same thing?"
"No," she said, stepping closer. "Normal Soul Mode progression follows the thread path: Phase One, then Two, then Ascension. You just jumped straight through the web."
Kael stayed quiet.
"And now," Lira said, "your Vein might not wait for you to catch up."
He closed his fist. "Good. Let it push."
She moved like a whip — faster than he'd seen her before. In one blink, she was behind him, her blade resting at the back of his neck.
Kael didn't flinch.
"That attitude?" she said. "It'll get you killed."
He didn't respond. She stepped back and slid the blade away.
"Rest while you can," she said. "A Watcher's coming."
Kael turned slowly. "Another Spiral agent?"
"No," Lira said. "A Spiral judge. Watchers don't test. They don't collect. They decide."
Kael exhaled. "And what does that mean for me?"
"If your Thread Raze is considered 'unstable,'" she said, "they'll erase you."
⸻
The next morning came in pieces — fractured light cutting through broken shutters, footsteps pacing below, whispers swirling in back alleys. Greyreach was stirring.
Kael and Lira walked through the Forge District, where word of the Collector's destruction had already spread. Most people stayed clear of Kael. A few looked on with twisted reverence. A kid with copper-threaded eyes called him "Spiralborn" under his breath.
Kael didn't like it.
"You've made noise," Lira said as they walked.
"Yeah? Then let them listen."
They stopped at the arena near the Soulforge — the same one where Kael had seen the kid fighter days before.
The ring was different now.
Expanded. Reinforced. Crowded.
And in the center stood the same boy.
But now he wore a Spiral mark on his chest — not branded, but etched into fabric, like a declaration.
"He's not just fighting anymore," Lira said. "He's recruiting."
Kael stepped forward.
The kid saw him.
And smiled.
"Voidborn," he called. "Been waitin'."
⸻
The crowd pulled back as Kael stepped into the ring.
The kid didn't bow.
Didn't speak.
He just flared.
His Soulvein exploded into silver-blue light, and Kael saw it clearly for the first time: a hybrid Vein — Wind fused with Time — coiled around his spine like a serpent made of lightning.
Kael tightened his gloves.
No words.
Just motion.
⸻
The fight began like thunder.
The kid vanished.
Literally blinked out of sight.
Kael activated Threadsense instantly — time slowed, threads appeared, and he turned just in time to block a spinning kick aimed at his ribs.
It still hurt.
The kid grinned mid-air. "Nice trick."
Kael countered, launching a Void pulse upward — it missed, hitting only wind.
The kid had moved again.
Flicker steps.
Every time Kael struck, the boy phased a second forward. It was like fighting someone who saw three seconds into the future.
"You're reading threads," the boy said mid-dodge. "I'm reading outcomes."
Kael didn't answer.
He closed his eyes.
Then let the Void guide him.
⸻
Thread Raze flared.
Not full activation — just a whisper. A taste.
Kael's vision split for a moment.
Not into space — into possibility.
And in that blur, he saw the path.
He stepped into the next strike without dodging—absorbing the hit—and drove his elbow into the boy's chest.
The kid choked, stunned.
Kael followed up with a heavy shoulder slam, sending him skidding across the ring.
The boy got up, winded.
Then… he laughed.
"Finally," he said. "I knew you weren't just some wild thread. You're a Spiral echo."
Kael blinked. "What?"
The kid tapped his chest. "Name's Sorell. Spiral Cadet. Watcher in training."
Lira cursed from the sidelines. "They sent a kid to fight you?"
"No," Sorell said. "I came to judge."
⸻
The wind around them shifted.
It wasn't his Vein.
It was the Watcher's arrival.
The sky cracked open above the arena, and a figure descended in silence — not falling, not flying, just… existing downward.
He wore robes made of woven light and dark — symbols of each Origin stitched across his sleeves. No face. Just a mask of glass with nine shifting circles for eyes.
Everyone in Greyreach dropped to one knee.
Except Kael.
And Sorell.
The Watcher didn't speak.
He floated until he stood inches from Kael, then extended a hand.
A tether of light shot forward—piercing Kael's chest.
He didn't feel pain.
He felt pulled.
Memories. Motions. Vein flare. Every thread he'd ever touched unraveled before him.
Then—
The Watcher retracted the light.
And finally spoke:
"Thread Raze: Phase-Break confirmed. Spiral destabilization level: minor. Outcome probability: 68% divergent."
Kael swallowed. "What does that mean?"
The Watcher's eyes turned black.
"You are not condemned."
Lira let out a breath.
"But you are not free."
⸻
A spiral mark etched itself into Kael's right shoulder — burning, then fading.
Sorell stepped forward.
"Congrats," he said. "You've been noticed."
Kael looked at him. "So what happens now?"
The Watcher turned.
And as he rose back into the sky, he left behind a final verdict:
"Balance is delayed. Not denied."
⸻
Hours passed.
Kael sat alone near the cracked forge, hands open, veins still pulsing.
He thought he'd feel relief.
He didn't.
He felt… tracked.
Marked.
Lira approached. "They'll be watching everything now. Your flare rate. Your growth. Your choices."
Kael asked, "What happens if I don't follow their path?"
"They send another Collector," she said. "Or worse."
He clenched his fists.
"I'm not here to balance the Spiral," he said. "I'm here to break it."
Lira didn't smile.
She just whispered, "Then you'd better learn to fracture clean."