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CHAPTER 25 — "THE SPACE THAT SHOULD NOT EXIST"
(Rin Kaito — POV)
I woke up without waking.
That was the first thing I understood.
There was no gasp, no jolt, no sharp intake of breath. My eyes opened, but my body didn't react. No heartbeat thundered in my chest. No air burned in my lungs.
Because there was no air.
No chest.
No body.
I existed.
That was all.
The place around me had no shape—not darkness, not light. It was a colorless vastness, like reality had been erased and forgotten to be replaced. There was no ground beneath my feet, yet I stood. No sky above me, yet I could look up.
Time didn't move here.
Or maybe it moved through me.
I tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
Not silence—absence.
Panic should have followed.
It didn't.
Fear felt… distant. Muted. Like my emotions were wrapped in thick glass.
I remembered my name.
Rin Kaito.
That mattered.
I remembered the school.
The basement.
The silhouette wearing my coat.
That—that—felt wrong.
I lifted my hand.
I could see it now. Pale. Real. My fingers trembled slightly, as if they were remembering how to move. When I touched my chest, I felt warmth.
I was alive.
But not here.
The realization didn't crash into me—it settled slowly, like a truth that had been waiting.
"This is the null," a voice said.
It didn't echo. It didn't travel. It simply appeared inside my awareness.
I turned.
Figures stood behind me.
Tall. Featureless. Wrapped in pale robes etched with symbols that rearranged themselves every time I tried to focus. Where faces should have been were vertical slits glowing faint gold.
Observers.
Architects.
Whatever they were, they weren't demons.
"Where am I?" I asked.
My voice sounded… correct. Anchored.
"You are between outcomes," one replied. "Between collapse and continuation."
I clenched my fists. "You kidnapped me."
"Incorrect," another said. "You were removed."
"Same thing."
A pause.
"Your perception is emotionally biased."
That made something inside me snap.
"You used my face," I said. "You used my voice. You made him fight me."
A flicker passed through the gold slits.
"Adrian Sanchez encountered a construct. Not you."
"You wore my skin," I growled.
"Your existence allowed it."
That sentence chilled me.
I took a step forward—and reality reacted.
The space rippled, bending around me like water disturbed by movement. The observers shifted back slightly.
Interesting.
"You're afraid of something," I said.
"No," they replied in unison. "We are calculating."
I laughed.
The sound came out sharp and bitter.
"You picked the wrong human to calculate around."
Memory surged.
Adrian standing in front of me during that first fight.
Adriana dragging him out of danger.
The way darkness moved when Adrian got angry—not evil, but heavy, deliberate.
"You think I don't matter," I said slowly. "But if I didn't, you'd have erased me."
Silence.
Then—
"You are an anomaly," one admitted. "Your proximity to the Keys disrupted predictive models."
Keys.
So it was true.
"What am I to them?" I asked.
"A variable," they replied. "A stabilizer. Or a trigger."
My heart pounded now.
"So you locked me here."
"Yes."
"Because if I return," I said, "things change."
"Dramatically."
I smiled.
That emotion wasn't muted.
"Good."
The null shifted again.
This time, images appeared—fragments projected into the space around us.
Adrian fighting an Elite.
Adriana's whip drenched in crimson light.
The alternate twins stepping back into their portals.
And then—
Adrian collapsing, bloodied.
My smile vanished.
"Enough," I said coldly.
"You cannot interfere," an observer warned. "You are not designed for direct conflict."
"Neither were they," I snapped. "And yet here we are."
I stepped closer.
The symbols on the observers' robes glitched.
"You're lying," I said. "This place isn't just a prison."
"It is containment."
"No," I corrected. "It's a forge."
That hit.
The observers recoiled slightly.
"You didn't erase me because you couldn't," I continued. "You didn't send me back because you're afraid of what I'll become."
Their silence confirmed it.
"You're changing me," I said quietly. "Aren't you?"
One finally spoke.
"The null strips external influence. Identity remains. Weakness erodes."
I closed my eyes.
The fear.
The hesitation.
The doubt.
They were fading.
"What happens when I'm done?" I asked.
"You will return," they said. "When the probability curve demands it."
"Chapter Thirty," I murmured.
They stiffened.
"…How do you know that?"
I opened my eyes.
"I can feel the story breathing," I said. "And it's holding its breath."
Power stirred inside me—not demonic, not holy.
Aligned.
The null trembled.
Cracks appeared in the colorless void—thin fractures glowing faint silver.
The observers panicked.
"Stability dropping—"
"Containment breach—"
"Recalibrate—"
I laughed again.
"You wanted a variable," I said. "Congratulations."
The fractures spread.
Somewhere far beyond this place—
Adrian felt it.
Adriana felt it.
And for the first time since I vanished—
They weren't alone.
The null tried to close around me.
I stood firm.
"I'm coming back," I said softly. "And when I do… I'm not choosing sides."
The void screamed.
And reality began counting down.