The announcement came that night, during the tide's rise.
We had gathered on the third floor as the water flooded the lower levels. The arms emerged from the grey depths as they always did, writhing and searching. The Mother's lullaby echoed through the ruins.
Then the singing changed.
The lullaby became something else. Words formed from the melody. Not spoken—sung. By thousands of voices in perfect harmony.
"MY CHILDREN HAVE GROWN STRONG. MY FIRST CHILD HAS RISEN. NOW COMES THE SECOND TRIAL. THE TRIAL OF UNITY."
The water below began to glow. Not with bioluminescence. With essence. Pure, concentrated essence forming patterns on the flooded surface.
"YOU HAVE LEARNED TO SURVIVE ALONE. NOW LEARN TO SURVIVE TOGETHER. FIVE MUST ENTER. FIVE MUST SUCCEED. ALL FIVE—OR NONE."
"THE WEEPING CITADEL AWAITS. THERE YOU WILL PROVE YOUR BONDS. THERE YOU WILL EARN YOUR STRENGTH. THERE YOU WILL BECOME MORE."
"OR THERE YOU WILL BECOME MINE. FOREVER."
The singing faded. The glow dimmed. The message was delivered.
"A group trial," Kael said grimly. "Five people. All must succeed or all fail."
"The Weeping Citadel," Somi added, her mask analyzing the essence patterns that had appeared. "Geographic data suggests it is the large fortress structure approximately three kilometers northeast. The one we saw from the window yesterday."
"All five or none," Gery repeated. "That means if one person fails, everyone dies. The pressure will be immense."
"Who goes?" someone asked.
Everyone looked at me.
Of course. I was the First Child. The Ascended. The strongest. I would have to be one of the five.
"I will go," I stated. "We need four others. Volunteers?"
Lucy stepped forward immediately. "I am going."
"Lucy, you do not have to—" Kael started.
"Yes, I do. Sidd is my friend. If there is any chance my presence helps him maintain his humanity, then I need to be there."
Gery nodded and stepped forward. "I will go as well. We have fought together since the beginning. That continues."
Somi's analytical voice cut through. "Tactical recommendation: I should accompany. My strategic analysis will be valuable for coordinating five people in high-stress situations."
That was four. We needed one more.
Kael started to volunteer, but Darius stood up.
"I will go," he said.
Everyone stared at him.
"Why?" I asked bluntly. "I drained you. Humiliated you. You have every reason to refuse."
"Exactly why I need to go," Darius replied. His red-rimmed eyes met my void-black gaze. "You showed me something when you consumed my essence. You took my aggression. My rage. My loss of control. And you filtered it. Controlled it. Used it. I have been unstable since binding to the Anchor Point. My Aspect pushes me toward violence. But you showed me it is possible to harness that violence without being consumed by it."
He walked closer. "I do not like you. I do not trust you. But I respect what you did. And I want to learn how to maintain control the way you do. Even if your control is... questionable."
"My control is failing," I said honestly. "I am not a good teacher."
"You are the only example I have."
I studied him. My Truth-Seer showed his sincerity. He genuinely wanted to learn. Wanted to improve. Wanted to avoid becoming the berserker he had been.
"Very well. Five of us then. We leave at dawn."
That night, as the water receded and the tide went out, the five of us gathered to prepare.
Gery was sharpening his Azure Fang katana—a pointless gesture since the essence-blade never dulled, but it gave him something to do with his hands.
"I have been thinking," he said. "About what it means to be strong in this world. Real strength, not just power."
"There is a difference?" I asked.
"Yes. Power is what you can do. Strength is what you choose to do with it. The Anchor Points give us power. But they do not give us strength. That we must find ourselves."
"Philosophical," Somi observed. "Unusual for you."
"This place strips away pretense. We either become honest or we become monsters. I prefer honesty."
Lucy played with lightning between her fingers, the electricity dancing harmlessly across her skin. "My grandmother used to say: 'The darkest nights produce the brightest stars.' I never understood what she meant until now. We are in the darkest place imaginable. But some of us are still shining. Still human. Still fighting."
"Some of us," Darius said pointedly, looking at me.
"I am still fighting," I replied. "Just with different weapons. And toward a different definition of victory."
"Which is?"
"Survival. Not triumph. Not heroism. Just continuing to exist while maintaining enough of myself to remember why existence matters."
"That is a low bar," Darius observed.
"It is the only bar that matters. Everything else is luxury."
Somi's tactical mask glowed as she analyzed maps we had drawn of the Flesh Cradle. "Probability of all five succeeding: thirty-seven percent. Probability of total party wipe: forty-eight percent. Probability of partial success with some deaths: fifteen percent."
"So we are more likely to all die than to all live," Lucy said.
"Correct."
"And you are still willing to go?"
"Emotion does not factor into my decision-making process. The tactical value of attempting the trial outweighs the risk of death. Therefore, I go."
Gery shook his head. "You sound just like Sidd now. Both of you thinking like machines."
"Machines are efficient," I said. "Humans are flawed. In this world, efficiency beats humanity."
"Does it?" Lucy challenged. "Because from where I stand, our humanity is the only thing keeping us from becoming the creatures we fight. The moment we lose that, we become the enemy."
"Perhaps we need to become the enemy to defeat the enemy," Darius suggested.
"No." Gery's voice was firm. "That is how we lose. Not physically—spiritually. We can win every battle and still lose the war if we sacrifice what makes us worth saving."
I listened to them debate. Watched their expressions. Analyzed their body language.
And somewhere beneath the corruption, I felt something.
Not agreement. Not disagreement. Just... recognition. That they were having a conversation I could no longer fully participate in. That they were discussing concepts—humanity, morality, worth—that had become abstract to me.
I was already on the outside looking in. Already more observer than participant.
The Lost One.
Not because I did not know where I was going. But because I had left behind the place where they still stood. The place called humanity. And I could never fully return.
"We should rest," I said finally. "Tomorrow we enter the Weeping Citadel. Whatever we find there will require our full strength."
They nodded and dispersed to their sleeping areas.
I stayed at the window. Watching the grey twilight. Feeling nothing.
Just before dawn, I felt it.
My Essence Detection flared. A new signature had appeared. Massive. Powerful. Wrong.
Not from the Weeping Citadel. Not from the Mother.
From below.
From beneath the temple itself.
I rushed down the stairs, my enhanced speed carrying me to the ground floor in seconds. The water had fully receded. The wet stone reflected the grey predawn light.
And in the center of the floor, where yesterday there had been nothing, now stood an Anchor Point.
But wrong.
The crystal was not blue like Tier 4. Not purple like Tier 3.
It was silver. Swirling silver essence that hurt to look at directly.
[WARNING: TIER 2 ANCHOR POINT DETECTED]
[RISK LEVEL: EXTREME]
[BINDING TO THIS ANCHOR MAY RESULT IN IMMEDIATE CRITICAL CORRUPTION]
[RECOMMENDED ACTION: DO NOT INTERACT]
The others arrived behind me, drawn by my sudden movement.
"What is that?" Lucy breathed.
"Tier 2 Anchor Point," Somi stated, her mask analyzing frantically. "This should not be here. Tier 2 is significantly above this world's level. This is—"
"A gift," I said quietly. "From the Mother. For her First Child."
A voice echoed through the temple. Her voice. The Mother of Limbs.
"MY FIRST CHILD. MY CHOSEN. MY HEIR. I OFFER YOU THIS. POWER BEYOND MEASURE. STRENGTH BEYOND LIMIT. BIND TO THIS, AND YOU WILL BE INVINCIBLE. BIND TO THIS, AND YOU WILL NEVER FEAR. BIND TO THIS, AND YOU WILL BE MINE. COMPLETELY. ETERNALLY. PERFECTLY MINE."
The silver Anchor Point pulsed. Called to me. My Hunger responded, the hollow ache in my core suddenly sharp and demanding.
[HUNGER ACTIVATED BY PROXIMITY]
[COMPULSION STRENGTH: EXTREME]
[RESISTANCE REQUIRED]
I took a step toward it.
"Sidd!" Lucy grabbed my arm. "Do not. You are already at sixty-two percent. This will push you over the edge. You will lose yourself completely."
I looked at her. At her fear. At her desperate hope that I would make the right choice.
Then I looked at the Anchor Point. At the power it offered. At the strength I could gain.
And I smiled.
That horrible, hungry smile. The one that showed I was already more monster than man.
"Perhaps," I said softly, "that is exactly what we need."
I pulled my arm free from her grip.
And walked toward the silver light.