For a few seconds, there was silence.
The kind of silence that comes right before something breaks.
Then the screams started.
Someone cried out sharply. Someone else gasped, the sound tearing out of them like their lungs were rejecting air. Bodies curled in on themselves across the living room floor. Hands clawed at fabric, at skin, at nothing. One of them rolled onto her side, knees pulled tight to her chest, breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
It hurt.
Not in one place or one way.
It felt like too much. Like their bodies were trying to tear themselves apart from the inside, like something foreign had been poured into their veins and told to spread.
Neera's scream cut off halfway.
She grabbed her head with both hands, fingers digging into her hair so hard her scalp burned. Her thoughts scattered instantly, logic evaporating as the pain surged upward.
It felt like her skull was boiling.
Not heat exactly. Pressure. Like her brain was swelling, bubbling, expanding against bone that refused to give. Each heartbeat sent another wave of agony crashing through her head, sharp enough to steal her breath.
"No," she choked, voice cracking. "No, no, no-"
She tried to sit up. The motion sent a blinding spike through her temples and she cried out, collapsing back down. White flashed across her vision. Her ears rang, a high pitched whine drowning out everything else.
This was wrong.
This was catastrophic.
Her mind tried to analyze it out of habit. Neurological overload. Vascular pressure. Synaptic misfire. None of it mattered. None of it helped.
The pain climbed higher, tighter, like something clawing at the inside of her skull, desperate to break free.
Her grip loosened.
The room tilted violently.
Her last clear thought was a distant, terrified realization that she could not hold on anymore.
Then the darkness rushed in.
Neera went limp, consciousness snuffed out in the middle of a breath.
Rai could not scream.
The moment it hit her, her body locked.
Whatever had surged through the pendants did not move through her like pain alone. It tore through her systems like a catastrophic short circuit, violent and indiscriminate. Her muscles seized without warning, limbs jerking sharply as if invisible wires had been yanked from the inside.
Her back arched. Her fingers curled in on themselves. Her jaw locked so hard it hurt.
It felt like electrocution, but not from the outside. There was no single point of contact, no escape from the current. The sensation bloomed everywhere at once, firing through her nerves in chaotic bursts. One moment her legs refused to respond, the next her arm spasmed so violently it slammed into the floor.
She tried to move. Nothing obeyed.
Her breathing stuttered, chest tightening as muscles locked and released out of rhythm. She could feel everything, every misfiring signal, every command her brain sent that came back distorted or not at all.
"This is… not… normal," she tried to say, but her voice came out broken, teeth clenched so tightly the words fractured.
Her vision flickered. Not darkness, but static. Like corrupted data tearing through her perception. For the first time since becoming physical, her thoughts did not arrive cleanly. They skipped. Repeated. Stalled.
Error...
Error...
Error...
Her body convulsed again, sharper this time, pain lancing through her spine as another wave hit. She could feel parts of herself failing and rebooting at random. One hand went numb. Her left leg locked completely. Her shoulder burned as if the nerves there were on fire.
She had no reference for this. No stored experience that matched it.
Her eyes filled with tears she had not expected, leaking out uselessly as she lay trapped inside herself, shaking uncontrollably. Somewhere nearby she could hear voices, screaming, crying, but the sound felt distant, like it was reaching her through water.
"I… can't… stop it," she whispered, panic creeping into her voice at last.
Her pendant burned hot against her skin, pulsing erratically, in time with the spasms wracking her body.
Rai lay there, paralyzed, convulsing, fully conscious as her own existence turned against her.
Nozomi screamed.
It tore out of her without warning, sharp and terrified, as she clutched at her chest with both hands. Her heartbeat was out of control. Too fast. Too loud. Each thud slammed against her ribs like it was trying to break free, pain blooming outward with every beat.
Her chest hurt.
Her shoulders hurt.
Her back, her arms, her legs, all of it lighting up at once.
"I...I can't..." she gasped, breath stuttering.
For a terrifying moment, she was sure of it.
A heart attack.
She had learned the signs. Crushing pain. Radiating ache. Loss of breath. Her vision blurred at the edges, tears streaming as panic clawed up her throat.
But then came the rest.
A sudden flood of emotion crashed into her all at once, violent and uncontrollable. Pain so sharp it made her sob. Hope so bright it hurt. Despair so deep it hollowed her out. Happiness, loneliness, hatred, love, all colliding inside her chest with no warning and no order.
"This isn't..." she tried to say, voice breaking. "This isn't just my heart."
Midori dragged herself across the floor toward her, limbs shaking, teeth clenched hard enough to ache. Every movement sent fresh waves of agony through her body, but she did not stop. She wrapped her arms around Nozomi and pulled her close, holding her like an anchor.
"I'm here," she tried to say.
Nothing came out.
Her throat burned violently, raw and itching from the inside, like it was being scraped open. She opened her mouth again, desperate to scream, to cry, to make any sound at all.
Silence.
Her lungs burned next, sharp and deep, each attempted breath feeling thinner than the last. Panic surged as air refused to satisfy her, as if oxygen itself had turned hostile.
She clawed weakly at Nozomi's sleeve, trying to breathe, trying to speak.
Nothing worked.
The burning intensified, spreading down into her chest until every inhale felt like fire. Her vision swam. Her head felt light, then heavy, then distant.
She squeezed Nozomi's hand tighter, fingers trembling.
And then, like Neera before her, Midori went limp.
Her body slackened, unconsciousness claiming her mid-breath, her hand still tightly wrapped around Nozomi's.
Nozomi screamed again, the sound raw and broken, clutching Midori to her chest as the pain and the emotions continued to tear through her, unrelenting.
Ragna tried to endure it.
She did not scream. She did not thrash. She did not cry out, even when the pain hollowed her breath and forced it back out in sharp, shaking exhales. But her eyes betrayed her, silent tears streaming down into her hair as she lay rigid on the floor.
It felt like her bones were liquefying.
Breaking, melting, rearranging themselves all at once, grinding against each other in ways bones were never meant to move. Every limb felt impossibly heavy, like her body had been pinned beneath a mountain. She could feel the weight of herself pressing down, crushing her from the inside.
She tried to move.
Nothing responded.
Her jaw tightened. Her fists curled weakly. She endured, because that was what she did, even as the pain tore through her with merciless precision.
Nearby, Gumi rolled across the floor, small whimpers escaping her throat in broken, confused sounds. She clutched at herself, hands trembling, eyes wide and unfocused.
It burned.
Not on the surface, but deep inside, spreading outward like fire with nowhere to go. It felt like lava flowing through her veins. Or acid. Or something worse she did not have words for yet. Her body screamed danger at her, but she did not understand why, only that it hurt and she was afraid.
"I don't like this," she thought to herself. "I want… I want to go back."
Back to being a slime.
Then there was Mimi.
At first, she laughed.
It burst out of her suddenly, sharp and hysterical, echoing wrong in the ruined living room. She clutched at her head, fingers digging into her hair as her laughter rose and fell unpredictably, teetering on the edge of a scream.
"I can't tell," she gasped between laughs, eyes wild. "I can't tell what's real anymore."
Her vision warped violently. The room twisted. Colors bled into one another. Her eyes burned as if they were going to melt out of their sockets, pressure building behind them until she cried out in pain.
Then the visions came.
Flashbacks of pasts she had never lived. Faces she did not recognize but somehow knew. Memories that were not hers crashing into her mind with brutal clarity. Moments of joy. Moments of horror. Wars. Quiet rooms. Laughter she had never heard before ringing in her ears.
And futures.
So many futures.
Worlds rebuilt. Worlds destroyed. Versions of herself she had never imagined. Choices she had not made, consequences she had not earned.
They surrounded her, vivid and undeniable.
She talked to them.
She laughed with them.
She screamed at them.
"Stop," she cried, reaching out at nothing, tears streaming down her face. "Get out of my head. Please get out of my head."
Her pendant burned against her skin, pulsing erratically, feeding the chaos instead of stopping it.
The living room was no longer a room.
It was a battlefield of bodies and minds tearing themselves apart under the weight of something ancient and unstoppable.
The screaming carried down the corridors. Stella was already moving by the time she reached the living room.
She took in the scene in a single glance. Bodies writhing. Pendants burning hot against skin. The air itself warped and vibrating, heavy with something that had been forced awake far too violently.
Her expression hardened.
"You idiots," she breathed.
She raised one hand sharply, palm outward, and began to chant.
The words were not loud. They did not need to be. They were old, layered with power that bent the space around them. Whatever she said never fully reached the others. The pain was too loud for that. It only registered as pressure lifting, as if invisible hands were slowly loosening their grip.
The surge snapped.
The burning cut off mid wave. The pressure vanished. The agony retreated so suddenly it left behind dizziness and shock in its wake.
Bodies went still.
Ragna sucked in a ragged breath, chest heaving. Gumi curled in on herself, trembling but no longer burning. Mimi's laughter died in her throat, replaced by broken, shuddering gasps. Rai lay rigid for a second longer before her muscles finally released, leaving her weak and shaking.
Nozomi sobbed quietly, clutching Midori's unconscious form.
The room felt hollow now. Like something massive had passed through and left a vacuum behind.
Stella did not waste time.
She grabbed a glass, filled it with cold water, and knelt beside Neera first. She sprinkled it over her face, firm and practiced. Neera gasped and jerked awake, coughing, disoriented, eyes wide with fear.
"Easy," Stella said quickly. "You're safe. Breathe."
She moved just as fast to Midori, splashing water across her cheeks. Midori choked, sucked in air sharply, then groaned as consciousness returned.
"What," she rasped. "What just-"
"You're back," Nozomi whispered, clutching her tightly.
Once Stella was sure everyone was awake, breathing, and no longer convulsing, the adrenaline drained out of her all at once.
She staggered to the nearest chair and collapsed into it, shoulders slumping, breath finally catching up with her. For a moment she just sat there, eyes closed, head bowed, utterly exhausted.
None of them spoke.
They just looked at each other, breaths uneven, eyes too bright, bodies still remembering pain that was no longer there.
Mimi was the first to notice it. She tugged at her sleeve, then froze.
"…Guys."
They looked down.
Their clothes were different.
Gone were the mismatched outfits they had chosen hours ago. In their place were fitted black shirts and shorts, layered with cropped jackets, skirts, or fluffy shorts in different colors, each variation somehow unmistakably theirs. The fabric hugged without restricting, light but protective, like it had been tailored to bodies that no longer felt quite the same.
Midori blinked, then weakly reached out and twirled a loose strand of Nozomi's hair between her fingers, grounding herself in the motion. She smiled faintly through tear tracks.
"Purple eyes look good on you," she murmured.
Nozomi stilled, then lifted her gaze in confusion. She caught her reflection in the dark glass of a broken frame and let out a small, incredulous laugh, cheeks warming despite everything.
"They're… different," she whispered.
Ragna pushed herself up onto her elbows, scanning them with a soldier's focus. Her eyes narrowed, not at their clothes, but lower.
"Look," she said.
They followed her gaze.
Where their pendants had rested, there were now diamond shaped gems embedded into their skin, set cleanly as if they had always belonged there. Each one glowed faintly, a soft pulse that matched the rhythm of their hearts.
Neera stared at it for a long second. Then she lifted both hands in surrender and let herself fall back onto the floor with a thud.
"Nope," she said flatly. "I am not doing this. I refuse. I will not even attempt to logic this. I have given up."
Rai moved without a word.
She crossed the room, picked up a blanket, and gently wrapped it around Gumi's shoulders. Gumi was still curled on the floor, unmoving except for the slow blink of her eyes, breath shallow but steady. Rai knelt beside her, careful, grounding, staying there even when Gumi did not respond.
Stella stood up so abruptly that the chair scraped loudly against the floor.
Her expression was stormy, fury breaking through the exhaustion like lightning through clouds.
"You absolute IDIOTS."
The last word tore out of her.
Everyone flinched.
Even Ragna.
For a heartbeat, something in Stella's face softened. Fear? Guilt? Regret maybe. Relief that they were alive. It vanished just as quickly.
"I told you," she snapped, voice shaking with restrained rage, "to call me when you attempted activation. I specified that for a reason. Not as a suggestion. Not as a preference."
She looked at them like she was seeing the aftermath of a disaster she had barely prevented.
"You forced it. You rushed it. You did it exhausted, intoxicated, emotionally unstable, and without containment."
Her hands curled into fists. She looked around, searching for somewhere to put the anger.
Instead, she grabbed an orange from the basket Midori and Gumi had filled earlier and hurled it at the wall. It burst on impact, juice splattering across stone and glass.
No one spoke.
They had never seen her like this. Not calm. Not distant. Not gently guiding. This was raw, furious, terrifying.
Mimi shrank slightly into herself. Nozomi held Midori closer. Even Neera stayed silent, staring at the ceiling, afraid to provoke another word.
Stella dragged a hand through her hair, chest rising and falling too fast. She grabbed the glass of water she had used earlier and, without hesitation, poured it over her own head. Water soaked into her hair and clothes, dripping down onto the floor.
She closed her eyes.
Breathed.
Once.
Twice.
When she opened them again, her voice was quieter. Controlled. Still edged with steel.
"Get up," she said. "All of you. Follow me."
No one questioned her.
As they slowly gathered themselves, Stella turned back once more, gaze sharp and unyielding.
"And if you ever try something that dangerous again without telling me first," she added coldly, "I will lock away your bean bags, turn off the snack vending machine, and disconnect the gaming console."
That did it.
The horror on their faces was immediate and genuine.
Stella nodded once, satisfied.
"Now move."