The silence after collapse was suffocating.
No chains. No arena. Just the endless void.
Seo-jin floated in darkness, blood still trickling down his collar. His shoulder throbbed where his phantom had bitten deep, a wound that felt too real to be forgotten.
The Saint hovered a few steps away, pale but upright. Around him, the crucified phantoms flickered faintly, like embers after a storm. Their nailed heads bowed in unison, awaiting a command he did not give.
Above them, the Overseers whispered. No longer thunderous, no longer in perfect unison. Their voices had fractured, splintered into overlapping threads, a storm of static crawling through the void.
"…synchronization breach…"
"…vessel uncontainable…"
"…infiltration protocol… seeds, seeds, plant the seeds…"
Seo-jin's grin thinned. "That doesn't sound like surrender."
The Saint closed his eyes, clutching his temple. "They're not done with us."
The void rippled.
Above, hundreds of glowing eyes blinked open once more. This time, they did not watch from a distance. They wept molten light, streaming downward, raining like burning threads.
The threads pierced Seo-jin's skin. Pierced the Saint's.
Seo-jin hissed, swatting at his arms as if shaking off hot wires. But the light sank deeper, carving into his veins, crawling under his flesh like worms.
The Saint screamed outright, dropping to his knees. His crucified phantoms writhed, chains rattling as their nailed limbs jerked. The threads burned through them as well, rewriting, reshaping.
The Overseers' voices overlapped, frenzied:
"Plant the seed. Sow the root. Distrust, distrust, betrayal inevitable."
"They cannot remain bound if doubt consumes them."
Seo-jin clutched his head. Whispers bled into his mind—not his own, not even the Overseers' booming decree, but something intimate, insidious.
He'll turn on you the first chance he gets. He commands the dead. What makes you think he won't command you?
Seo-jin laughed harshly, even as sweat poured down his face. "Oh, clever. Very clever."
Across the void, the Saint curled inward, clutching his chest. His whispers were different.
He drags you into battles you cannot win. He bleeds and smiles and expects you to follow. He'll abandon you, just like the Overseers will. Just like everyone else has.
Tears streamed down the Saint's face. "Stop—stop it—"
The Overseers pressed harder. Their voices thundered through every crack of thought:
"SEVER THEM FROM WITHIN."
"UNLEASH MISTRUST. BREAK THE PACT."
Seo-jin staggered to his feet. His grin was gone. His eyes were sharp, hunting.
The Saint rose shakily as well. His phantoms flickered behind him, their nailed faces contorted, whispering half-truths into his ears.
For a long moment, they stared at each other across the darkness.
Chains had divided them once. Now the Overseers tried to make their minds the dividing line.
Seo-jin spoke first, voice low. "You hear it too, don't you?"
The Saint's voice was a ragged whisper. "Yes."
"They want us to doubt."
"They already have."
Seo-jin chuckled under his breath. "At least you admit it."
The burning threads embedded deeper. The whispers did not stay whispers. They took form.
Behind Seo-jin, a shadow rose. His double—again, but subtler. Not the chain-snapping beast from before, but a calm, calculating figure. It smiled with Seo-jin's grin, only sharper.
It whispered into his ear. You don't need him. You never did. Cut the leash yourself and walk free.
Behind the Saint, a different figure emerged. Not crucified, not broken—whole. It was the Saint as he might have been: radiant, unburdened, halo gleaming. His voice was gentle, coaxing.
He will destroy you. He laughs at your pain. Let me free you from him.
Both illusions leaned closer, poison dripping from their lips.
Seo-jin spat blood onto the void. "Seeds, huh? Overseers, I'll give you credit. You plant weeds fast."
The Saint trembled. "Seo-jin…"
His eyes darted between his companion and the phantom whispering salvation behind him.
The Overseers screamed in triumph:
"YES. TURN. TURN. BREAK THE BOND."
Seo-jin's body moved before thought.
He lunged.
Chains hissed from his hands, aimed not at the Overseers' threads, but at the Saint's phantom—the glowing, whole version of him.
The Saint flinched. For one heartbeat, it looked like betrayal.
Seo-jin's chains wrapped around the radiant illusion and crushed it to dust.
He spat, snarling upward at the Overseers: "You'll have to do better than a pretty mask."
But the Saint had already recoiled. His phantoms stirred, bristling, sensing his panic. Their nailed heads turned toward Seo-jin, teeth bared.
Seo-jin swore under his breath.
The Overseers' laughter rang like iron bells.
The whispers twisted sharper inside the Saint's skull.
See? He did attack you. He doesn't trust you. He's only waiting for the chance to cut you down.
His crucified phantoms pressed closer, their voices merging into his own heartbeat.
"Command us," they whispered."Strike him down.""Save yourself."
The Saint's breath came ragged. His eyes locked on Seo-jin.
For the first time since their pact began, his nails dug into his palms—not in fear of necromancy, but in readiness to use it.
Seo-jin noticed. His grin did not return. His face hardened.
"Saint," he said quietly. "Breathe. It's not you talking."
But the Saint's phantoms hissed louder. His lips parted, shaping the word of command.
Seo-jin's chains tensed in response.
The void between them shivered.
The Overseers watched in rapture.
"YES. THIS IS THE FRACTURE. THIS IS THE SEVERANCE."
Chains crackled with power in Seo-jin's hands. Phantoms seethed around the Saint, claws outstretched, awaiting his command.
The seeds had rooted deep.
One order, one swing, and the pact would shatter.
Seo-jin's grin returned then—bloody, dangerous, but steady. He whispered, not to the Overseers, not even to the Saint's phantoms, but straight into the Saint's trembling soul:
"Do it."
The Saint froze.
Seo-jin's eyes burned with challenge. "If you think they're right—if you think I'm nothing but another leash waiting to strangle you—then say the word. Cut me down. But you'll prove the Overseers right. You'll prove you were always their puppet."
The Saint's voice cracked. "You… you'd gamble like that?"
Seo-jin laughed. "It's not a gamble if I already know the answer."
Silence.
The Saint trembled. His phantoms leaned closer, jaws wide, waiting. The Overseers roared encouragement.
And then—
The Saint screamed. Not a word of command. Not an order. Just a raw, primal refusal that tore through the void.
"NO!"
His crucified phantoms recoiled as if struck. Their chains slackened, their whispers faltered.
The radiant phantom of him tried to reform, but he turned on it himself, slamming his hands into its chest. His nails sank into its glowing ribs.
"You are not me!"
He tore the illusion apart with his bare hands. Its light shattered into sparks, dissolving in his grip.
Seo-jin barked a laugh. "That's more like it."
The Overseers howled.
**"CORRUPTION REJECTED. SEEDS EXPELLED.
ESCALATION—ESCALATION—"**
The void convulsed. The burning threads snapped violently, recoiling back into the eyes above. The phantom illusions dissolved.
But the Overseers were not retreating. They were enraged.
The eyes widened, veins of molten light cracking across them. Their voices overlapped, no longer controlled decrees but chaotic shrieks:
"IF SEEDS WILL NOT BLOOM—WE SHALL CARVE THE ROOTS OUT."
Seo-jin steadied his chains, blood dripping from his wounds. His grin was wide, feral.
"Carve, carve, carve. You Overseers sound desperate."
The Saint straightened, still trembling but standing. His phantoms bowed at his back, awaiting his voice—and this time, he did not flinch from their presence.
He whispered to Seo-jin, "They'll destroy us both for this."
Seo-jin bared his teeth, eyes gleaming. "Then we make sure they choke on us first."
The void cracked. Something vast and formless began to descend.
The Overseers had escalated again.The seeds had failed, but in their failure, they had planted something stronger—
The Saint's first rejection of their control.Seo-jin's unyielding defiance.A bond tempered not by chains, but by choice.
As the sky split open and the next horror fell through, Seo-jin's laughter rang bright and sharp.
"Round three, then."