The vast, colorless void stretched in every direction — gray without depth, none-stopping screams without source. Even the air felt exhausted.
Morgana lay at its center.
Her body was real this time, lying down, not dead, not alive either. Her ears were bleeding, eyelids fighting to open.
A shallow breath escaped her lips.
"…This isn't fair…"
The words barely existed — thin, fragile, dissolving the moment they were born.
"Why do I have to lose everything…?"
Her vision swam. Shapes bled into one another, then faded back into gray nothingness.
"What did I ever do to deserve all this pain…?"
Her throat tightened. No tears came. Even grief had abandoned her.
Slowly, she let her eyes fall shut.
A long pause.
Then, a cold sharp whisper penetrated the loud echoes.
"Don't I at least have the right to die…?"
Her fingers twitched — the smallest rebellion.
"I won't forgive you."
At once, the chamber answered her —with nothing.
Silence pressed in, dense and absolute.
Her lips twitched. Just barely.Not a smile. A crack.
"You'll pay for this," she breathed.
The words didn't echo.They sank.
Something restless shifted beneath the stillness, slow and hungry.
"I won't just ruin you," she went on, her voice tightening, sharpening."I'll peel your life apart. Layer by layer."
The gray around her shuddered.
"I'll turn your days into hell," she whispered, venom-soft."And when you scream—"a pause, deliberate, cruel—"I'll make sure the sound never leaves your head."
The gray pulsed once.
As if the chamber had heard the vow.
As if it had taken note.
And stored it.
**************
Zarius's fingers traced the crack in the wooden table, back and forth, until the motion became automatic.Across from him, Hyran sat straight-backed, shoulders locked, like a drawn bow that refused to release.
Yulia moved without hesitation. She placed her hands on the table and swung herself up between them, folding her legs beneath her in one smooth motion. The wood creaked softly under her weight.
Her gaze passed from one face to the other—cool, assessing.Her voice slipped into the space like fog.
"It's been a long time since we last sat like this."
Zarius lifted his head just enough. The corner of his mouth curved, but his eyes stayed hard.
"Good to see you're still light on your feet."
Yulia tilted her head. A loose strand of black hair slid across her pale forehead.
"What can I say."
She hugged her arms around herself and rubbed her shoulders, as if the chill had found her bones. A faint shiver followed.
"Tell me," she went on casually, "was the weather in Arcadia this cold too?"
Zarius's finger stopped.
"Quite the opposite," he said, voice rougher than he meant. "Arcadia's warm most of the year."
Yulia turned fully toward him. The distance vanished—her knees nearly brushing his chest. She leaned in, close enough that her breath brushed his cheek.
Zarius didn't move. His face shut down completely.
"Let me save you both the effort," she whispered. "There's nothing you can hide from me."
Her hand came down on his head. Cold. Slow. A gentle pat that felt more like ownership than comfort.
"Ever since Valenor visited Moriana and figured out what was happening," she said quietly, "he's been pushing me to stay away from her."
Her eyes drifted aside.
"I didn't."
She exhaled, almost amused. "Not because I wanted to play the self-sacrificing hero. I just didn't buy that ending."
Yulia slid off the table. As her feet touched the floor, she paused.
Her attention snagged on a distant alley—Moriana stumbling, barely upright, Gord holding her steady.
Yulia's jaw tightened.
"I can't," she said under her breath. "I won't let Mori owe me something this big."
Zarius finally looked up properly. The usual sarcasm was gone, stripped down to something raw.
"Why, Yulia?" he asked. "What do you know about Exim that makes you so sure?"
She turned her back to him. Her shoulders looked too sharp beneath the robe, too fragile for the weight she carried.
"Hm…"
She took her time.
"All I know is that it's the power Handlers use," she said slowly. "Something tied to bending timelines."
A brief pause.
"But Exim itself?" She shook her head. "Still a blind spot. Even for Handlers themselves."
Zarius leaned back, pressing his knuckles into his temple.
"seems like we have the same conclusion then." he said, voice low, "... That her exim is feeding on your life-time."