The crack swallowed his arm to the shoulder.
The grip around his gauntlet wasn't cold like the Warden, nor brittle like the dead he had bound. It was warm. Human. Fingers slick with blood—his or hers, he couldn't tell, clasped his with desperation and certainty all at once.
Asta's first instinct was to tear free. His second was to pull harder.
The Warden screamed. The sideways eye split wider, spilling black fire. Its crown knives scattered, orbit failing.
"Hold, hold onto me!" the voice cried from the other side. Female. Steady despite the panic, threaded with command. "If you let go, it will take you whole."
"I don't let go," Asta growled.
[Warning: Rift Overload 80%]
[Anchor destabilizing. Collapse imminent.]
The stone chamber buckled under him. The bound corpses wavered, shadows stretched taut. His hound snarled soundlessly, claws dug deep. The Knight braced at his back, sword planted like a wall against the Warden's next surge.
But the fissure wanted blood. His blood.
The grip on his gauntlet trembled. She wasn't stronger than the void pulling between them, that much was clear. If he stayed, they'd both be dragged in. If he let go, she was gone, and whatever had enough will to speak from inside the Rift would vanish into silence.
Asta's jaw locked. "Knight," he said. "Anchor me."
The Black Knight's shadow pressed harder into his spine, weight like a mountain. The pull evened, barely.
"Now you-" he shouted into the crack, "...Rise!"
The hand convulsed in his grip, shadows rippling up her arm and into him. For one heartbeat he saw her, not with eyes, but like a sketch burned into his mind.
A woman in shattered armor, hair like ink whipping in storm-winds, eyes pale and bright with fury. Shackled by black chains across a floor of endless crystal.
Then the vision snapped.
[Unbound Fragment Detected]
[External Vessel Link Possible]
[Establish? Y/N]
"Yes," Asta spat.
The fissure wailed. The chamber detonated in light.
When he could see again, he was on his knees. The crack still hissed, but it had shrunk, banded shut by his shadows, his thralls pressed along it like stitches. The Warden was gone. Or not gone, but half-broken, its cloak shredded, its crown reduced to three knives limping in orbit.
But more startling was the figure half-collapsed beside him.
She was real.
Her armor was foreign, silver laced with veins of black crystal, cracked down the breastplate as if it had once exploded inward. Her face was pale, smeared with blood, hair plastered to her temple. She breathed shallow, but she breathed.
Asta's heart hammered. He had dragged someone out of the Rift. Someone alive.
The System flickered:
[New Link: Shadow Contract Established]
[Designation: ???]
[Status: External Vessel Bound—Unstable]
She stirred. Her lashes trembled, eyes sliding open. Pale gray, sharp even through exhaustion.
Her gaze locked on him immediately. "You…" Her voice was hoarse but still carried authority. "You pulled me out."
Asta sat back on his heels, shadows twitching nervously at his shoulders. "You're welcome."
She tried to push herself up, winced, fell back onto one elbow. "Idiot. You shouldn't have. It's, unstable. The Rift will-"
The crack shuddered under her words. His thralls wailed, skulls shaking with strain.
"Then help me," Asta said. He leaned closer, eyes fierce. "You know more about this than I do. What are you?"
Her laugh was low, bitter. "Not what. Who." She met his stare. "My name is Lysandra. I was-" She cut off, coughing blood. "I was chained in there for years."
The word "chained" hit him like a hammer. The Warden's taunts. The System's Oath. The implication was clear, she hadn't just been trapped. She had been bound, just as shadows were bound.
He should have been afraid. Instead, all he felt was a raw, burning curiosity.
[Warning: Rift Overload 90%]
[Objective Updated: Escape the Chamber.]
The floor split wider behind them. The walls wept crystal shards.
Lysandra forced herself upright with a snarl, clutching her ribs. "Move, Hollow! Unless you want your second death faster than the first!"
Asta's lips pulled into a grin despite himself. "Don't call me Hollow." He pointed at the dead thralls bracing the crack. "That's Hollow." He raised his gauntlet, the Black Knight's shadow bracing him. "This is something else."
She blinked once, pale eyes sharp, then nodded. "Fine. Prove it."
The crack screamed open again, something enormous clawing from below. The Warden's tattered silhouette dragged itself upward, weaker but not dead, knives shrieking as they spun.
The system lit up:
[Commandment Two: Resolution Phase]
[Slay or Serve Decision, Finalised Upon Warden Defeat]
Asta rose to his feet, gauntlet flexing. Shadows rippled at his heels, the hound snarling, the corpses quaking, the Knight silent but unshakable. Beside him, Lysandra staggered upright, one arm clutching her ruined breastplate, the other glowing faint with strange light he didn't recognize.
The Warden hissed, voice guttural, furious. "HEIR."
Asta smirked, blood in his teeth, eyes burning. "No. Lord."
He lunged.