Chapter 6 – 12 Pillar of Resonance
The temple doors groaned open, spilling the night wind into the courtyard. Moonlight pooled across the wide training ground, where stone tiles bore the scars of countless battles—cracks spiderwebbed underfoot, scorch marks blackened the walls, and in the far corner, a crater big enough to bury a carriage waited as a silent warning.
The initiates stood in a loose circle. At the center, Kazuki's calm gaze swept over them like a judge weighing souls.
"The rules are simple," he announced, his voice cutting through the cold air. "One chalice, one victor. The duel ends when one of you can no longer stand. Show us your resolve."
Aven stretched his neck, cracking it loudly, then shot a smug grin at the others. "Finally. I've been dying to show off."
Gran took a long drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing in the dark. "Try not to embarrass yourself too quickly. you're going down first."
Alya brushed her long hair behind her ear and smirked. "Don't count me out. You two are too busy posturing. I'll be the one walking away with that chalice."
"Oh, please," Aven scoffed. "You'll trip over your own sass before I—"
"Begin," Kazuki declared, and the ground erupted with movement.
Gran flicked ash from his cigarette and, with a casual wave, exhaled a plume of smoke. The cloud twisted unnaturally, forming the faint outline of coiling serpents.
Alya seized her chance, weaving through the haze with dancer's grace. Her blade shimmered, striking sparks against the stone as she slashed for Gran's arm. For a moment, her speed overwhelmed him—until the cigarette flared again.
But Gran only smirked. "Too slow."
While the two clashed, Aven leapt into the fray with a dramatic yell. "Hah! Witness the might of Sephiroth!" He swung the long blade in a wide arc…
Nothing happened. Not even a spark.
There was an awkward silence. Even the smoke-serpents paused mid-slither.
Gran raised an eyebrow. "…That's it?"
Aven's face burned red. "It—it's just charging! Give it a second!" He smacked the flat of the blade like one might kick a broken lantern. "Come on, work with me here!"
Gran sighed, then flicked his cigarette, the ember bursting into a whip of fire. With one smooth motion, he sent the burning smoke lashing toward Aven.
"Wha—aaagh!" Aven yelped, the attack slamming into his chest. He hit the tiles hard, rolling across the ground until he came to a stop, wheezing. "Oww… my beautiful face…" He gingerly patted his cheek, groaning dramatically.
Alya, distracted, faltered for just a heartbeat—and that was all Gran needed. Smoke surged forward, swallowing her shield in a suffocating haze. She coughed, staggered, and finally dropped to one knee.
Kazuki lifted a hand. "Enough."
The smoke dissolved instantly. Alya gasped for air but remained conscious, her pride bruised more than her body.
Aven, on the other hand, groaned from the floor, clutching his cheek like a dying actor. "Unfair… total fraud… I want a rematch…"
Gran exhaled a final drag and let the cigarette drop, crushing it under his heel. He bowed slightly toward the elders. "Im The Winner."
The chamber grew solemn as Kazuki stepped forward, carrying a brass chalice etched with crimson suns. Its liquid glimmered darkly inside, thick as ink, heavy as blood.
"Well fought," Kazuki said, his eyes steady on Gran. "This chalice is yours. But understand the risk—you may awaken, or you may be consumed. Success or damnation, there is no middle ground."
Gran lowered his head respectfully. "I accept."
Aven groaned from the ground, muttering as he rubbed his cheek. "Cheater… smoke shouldn't even count as a weapon…"
Xie Yufan chuckled, folding his arms. "Heh. Good luck, storm cloud. May your lungs keep up with you."
The other elders had already taken position around the courtyard, prepared in case the ritual failed.
Gran took the chalice, raised it, and drank.
"Gluk—gluk—gluk… pah!" The thick liquid slid down his throat like molten iron.
Then his eyes rolled back. The chalice slipped from his hand, clattering to the ground.
His body crumpled. His soul, however, was already falling—spiraling—toward a vast and endless void.
The realm of the subconscious.
Gran floated in darkness.
No ground. No sky. Just a vast, weightless void, thick with silence.
Then—light.
Twelve radiant symbols bloomed into existence, each burning in its own hue. They hung in the emptiness like constellations carved directly into the void.
A blazing Sun radiated golden fire. A silvery Moon glimmered with shifting illusions. The Star pulsed with distant hope, while Death unfurled in a crimson-black spiral, cold and beautiful like a rose made of bone.
One by one, the others shimmered into clarity—Tower, Empress, Emperor, Joker, Magician, Wheel, Judgement, World—each demanding attention, each whispering power.
Then, they spoke.
Sun: "Choose me, mortal. I am glory, I am light. With me, your name will blaze eternal."
Moon: "Hah. Empty pride. Child, choose me. I am the dream behind the veil. Illusions are stronger than any blade."
Star: "No, no. He is a wanderer. He should reach for the cosmos—let him chase destiny beyond this world!"
Emperor: "Order. Authority. Without law, all strength crumbles. Boy, kneel, and I shall make you a king."
Joker chuckled, its voice slippery, impossible to pin down. "Why bother kneeling when you could laugh? Choose me, and you'll never be trapped in one shape. Trick fate itself."
Magician cut in sharply: "Ignore the clown. With me, your will becomes reality. You won't beg power—you'll make it."
Wheel spun slowly, its grinding voice heavy. "He cannot escape me. Whatever choice he makes, I'll be there… cycles turn, and he'll return to me."
Death finally spoke, quiet but commanding: "Enough." A stillness spread through the void. "Life ends, and in that ending, life begins again. Choose me, and I will make your destruction a seed of strength. Every cigarette you burn, every ember you smother… you already walk with me."
The other symbols bristled, light flaring as they bickered again—Sun shouting about immortality, Moon whispering seduction, Joker cackling, Emperor demanding order.
Gran only stood silently, smoke curling from the corner of his lips even here, in the void. His eyes were steady, unshaken.
Finally, he let the cigarette drop into the nothingness. The ember glowed, then vanished.
"I've already chosen." His voice was low, firm. "Death. It suits me best."
The other symbols fell silent. Death pulsed brighter, swallowing him in its cold, crimson embrace.
Gran's eyes snapped open. Air rushed back into his lungs as he sat upright on the courtyard tiles. His chest rose and fell, but his expression was calm.
"I'm fine," he rasped, then looked to the elders. "I've chosen… the Death Pillar."
The chamber stirred.
Kazuki's face softened into a faint smile. "Then rise, Bounder of Death. From this moment, you carry the mark of a pillar. Aven, Alya—tomorrow you will prove yourselves in the field. Only by completing the mission will you earn the right to claim the chalice."
Aven groaned from the ground. "So unfair… I wanted a turn…"
Alya brushed dust from her sleeves, shooting Aven a side-eye. "Try not to embarrass us next time. You're heavy enough as dead weight."
"Excuse me?!" Aven snapped. "I'll have you know I'm—"
"Pathetic," she finished, smirking.
Priscilla giggled behind her hand. "Fufufu… entertaining, as always."
Kazuki cut through the noise. "Enough. You will rest now. Ranmaru will guide you to your quarters."
"Yes, Elder!" they all answered, though Aven's voice cracked halfway through.
Kazuki gestured, and Ranmaru stepped forward with a lazy grin, pipe dangling from his lips. "Alright, kids. Time for a tour. I'll show you the dorms. Try not to get lost."
The initiates exchanged glances, their fates now bound to the Society—and to one another.
The night deepened, carrying with it the weight of choices made, and choices yet to come.