The chasm yawned wide, swallowing sound and light alike. Viridion and Oriven stood at its edge, the lattice of walkways disappearing into the thick fog below like broken threads in a tapestry.
Viridion's eyes flicked back to the hovering black feather — now faintly glowing, its edges shimmering with impossible colors that didn't exist in the spectrum.
"The Engine is… watching," Oriven said, voice low. "Every paradox leaves a trace, a ripple. The feather is a seed."
Viridion reached out, his fingers brushing the air where the feather hovered. Instead of solid contact, he felt a soft resistance — like trying to hold water in a clenched fist.
The world pulsed. Time folded.
For a heartbeat, Viridion glimpsed himself: not as he was, but as a figure trapped in an endless loop, endlessly taking the same step but never quite landing. The echo of that moment left a ringing in his mind.
"Your mind is the beginning of a paradox," Oriven said quietly. "The Eternity Loop is not just a power — it's a condition. The Engine waits for you to accept it."
Viridion blinked, shaken.
"What happens if I don't accept it?" he asked.
Oriven's gaze sharpened. "It accepts you."
The air around them thickened. The chasm seemed to breathe, its edges folding inward, closing then opening in rhythms that defied logic.
Suddenly, the feather split — fracturing into countless smaller feathers that scattered like thoughts across the void. Each shimmered with a fragment of impossible truth, a paradox folded within a paradox.
Viridion felt his chest tighten. Somewhere in his mind, a door creaked open, revealing a dark room lined with mirrors that reflected nothing but themselves.
"You're ready to see," Oriven said. "But seeing is only the first step."
A faint hum began beneath their feet, slow and deep — the heartbeat of the Paradox Engine itself, syncing with the rhythm now stirring inside Viridion.
And somewhere beyond the fog, copper eyes glinted again.