The last words of the candlelit cathedral echoed in Tyler's ears:
"Decide, child. The night is patient."
He swallowed hard and took a shaky step back.
"Okay—no. No. We're not doing cryptic monk talk," Tyler muttered, hands lifting instinctively, palms open in a defensive gesture. "What is this place? Where am I? And who the hell are you?"
The robed priest tilted his head slightly, as though studying a puzzle.
"You speak boldly for one on the threshold," he said.
"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly schedule this on my calendar," Tyler shot back.
The priest's mouth curved—barely. Not a smile. Just a small disturbance in the calm.
"This is the Sanctum of Accord," he said. "A place where mortals who fall beyond despair may be heard by the powers that exist beneath your world. You… called for power."
Tyler's pulse jumped."I didn't call anyone. I was freezing under a bridge—I was talking to myself."
"You spoke," the priest corrected gently. "And I listened."
Tyler stared at him, throat tightening."You're telling me… you're a god?"
"No," the priest said immediately. "Not a god. Merely a voice for one."
Tyler blinked."A voice. For who?"
The candle flames trembled, though no breeze touched them.
The priest leaned forward just enough for Tyler to feel the cold ripple of presence from beneath the hood.
"A deity forgotten by your world. A horned sovereign older than your scriptures and older than the four names your people cling to for comfort."
Tyler's voice cracked."So… Solaris, Veyra, Ignaros, Lunara—none of them brought me here?"
The priest snorted softly."Those household idols? Flames for the fearful. Stories made polite for the masses. They do nothing. They give nothing."
He stepped closer. Tyler tensed.
"My master—unlike them—answers whispers not meant for prayer."
Tyler's chest tightened again."I didn't whisper anything!"
"You cursed your gods," the priest said calmly."You cursed your world.""And then you begged—very quietly—for power."
Tyler froze.
He had said it.He had murmured those words under the bridge.Drained, numb, hopeless.
"If someone's listening… give me power…"
But he hadn't meant it. Not like this.
Tyler hesitated."Why me?"
"You asked," the priest said simply. "And unlike your gods, my master answers."
That sentence sent a tremor through Tyler's spine.
He shook his head."No. No, no, no. This sounds like some demon bargain. Devil contract. 'Sell your soul, get superpowers,' and then I burn for eternity—no thank you."
The priest's smile widened by a hair.
Tyler's heart pounded harder.He pictured his mother crying in that office.He pictured the officer asking for bribes.He pictured the city stealing his father's final breath.
Tyler hesitated.500 years was meaningless, but the powers…
"…I want them," he said quietly. "Both."
The priest nodded once. "Then the exchange is sealed."
A faint cold pulse ran through Tyler's chest.Not painful.Just… final.
He exhaled shakily.
"Alright," he said. "Fine. I got what I came for. Now—send me back."
He gestured vaguely, confused, impatient.
"To Darsen. To my mother. I have things to fix. Just—send me home."
The priest stared at him for a long, silent moment.
Then he laughed.
It was not loud.It was not cruel.It was simply the laughter of someone who found irony predictable.
"Send you… where?" he asked.
Tyler frowned."What kind of stupid question is that? Home. Back to the city. Back to my life."
The priest lifted his hand—two fingers raised, a small twist of the wrist.
The cathedral's air rippled.
A rectangular sheen appeared, opening like a window made of smoke.
Tyler stepped forward instinctively.
What he saw—
Paralyzed him.
The bridge.The snow.His mother's shawl lying near the path.Police tape flapping in the wind.
And beneath the bridge…
A body.
His body.
Face pale.Frozen.Eyes closed.
Tyler's breath vanished.He stumbled backward, hitting a pillar with his shoulder.
"That—no—no, no, no…"His voice cracked into shards."That's not— that can't be me—"
The priest watched him calmly.
"You came here," he said, "in your soul's form. What else did you think this place was?"
Tyler stared again at the lifeless body beneath the bridge.
"I'm dead…"The words tasted wrong, unfinished."I'm… actually dead."
"Correct."
Tyler pressed both hands against his hair, gripping hard as if trying to keep reality from spilling out.
"You tricked me," he whispered. "You tricked me. So the moment I said yes—my soul was yours."
The priest tilted his head.
"You agreed freely."
Tyler let out a small, broken laugh—half hysterical, half bitter self-mockery.
"Of course," he muttered. "Of COURSE the powers aren't free. Of course I got tricked. My life is already over, and I still manage to sign the stupidest contract in history."
The priest remained silent, patient.
Tyler wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
"Fine," he said hollowly. "So what now? I die? I stay here? My soul belongs to you for five centuries? That's it?"
The priest took one step forward.
"No," he said softly. "There is… a third wish."
Tyler froze.
"A third wish?"
"Yes," the priest said. "A wish powerful enough to change the fate of your soul. A wish that can rewrite your existence. Restore your life. Restart your timeline."
Tyler stared.
"You're saying… I can go back? Live again?"
"Yes."
Tyler's heart hammered.
"What's the cost?"
The priest's eyes gleamed like wet stone.
"Your entire soul."
Tyler felt the world narrow.
"So that's it," he whispered. "That's what you wanted all along. Not five hundred years. All of it."
"Yes," the priest said calmly."Your whole soul. Forever."
Tyler looked again at the image of his own frozen body.
Then he closed his eyes.
There was no choice.None at all.
"…Fine," he said quietly. "I want the third wish. I want to restart my life. I want to live again until I accomplish my goal."
The priest raised his hand slightly—no dramatic gesture, just a subtle command—and the cathedral behind him changed.
What Tyler thought was shadow… moved.
A deep purple glow rippled through the darkness at the far end of the chamber. Shapes began to emerge—long, serpentine lines of light, twisting like smoke underwater. But they were not smoke.
They were chains.
Massive, ancient chains made of purple-black metal, each link pulsing with veins of faint silver. They rattled without sound, drifting toward Tyler as though guided by intention, not physics.
Tyler stumbled back."What—what are those!?"
The priest watched without blinking.
"Bindings," he said calmly."For one who trades the whole of his soul."
The chains accelerated, swirling above Tyler like a storm of metallic serpents. They wrapped around his chest, his arms, his legs—not painfully, but with absolute certainty. Cold sank into him, down to places no hand had ever touched before.
A burning sensation carved through his pupils like molten ink.
" my eyes…!" Tyler gasped as the chains coiled around his head.
The priest finally spoke.
"Because your eyes will carry the mark of the pact."
Tyler choked as the chains fused with his vision.
His eyes, once dark, flashed electric blue—then silver dust spiraled outward across his pupils like galaxies being drawn with claws of light.
Tyler blinked in panic."What—what's happening to them!?"
"The contractor's sigil," the priest answered calmly.
"Only those bound by a pact carry eyes like yours.Your power flows through them."
Tyler gasped. "Power…?"
The priest continued, voice even, patient:
"As you grow, you will learn what your eyes can command.
To see minds.To hear thoughts.To bend the will of those who look back at you."
The chains tightened once more.
"But remember If your eyes are damaged you are nothing."
Tyler froze.
A weakness. A Flaw. A blade hanging over every future step.
"You're giving me powers with a built-in kill switch," Tyler muttered bitterly.
The priest smiled faintly. "No gift is without cost."
Tyler gasped.
"I—can't—move!"
"You are not meant to," the priest replied. "A soul must be secured before a wish of this magnitude can take shape."
The chains squeezed once, and something inside Tyler—something that felt separate from flesh—lurched forward as if being pulled.
He choked on the sensation. "Why me?" he demanded. "There are millions of souls out there—why do you want mine so badly!?"
For the first time, the priest looked away.
Not in guilt. Not in hesitation.
But in reverence.
"Because," he said slowly,
"you are the only one whose soul bends without breaking."
Tyler blinked—confused. "What does that even mean?"
The priest stepped back as the chains tightened for transport. His silhouette became darker, sharper.
The priest's expression didn't flicker.
"You will learn the answer," he said, "when you reach the end of the life you are about to begin."
"That's not an answer!" Tyler snapped, struggling against the chains even though resistance did nothing. "Tell me! Why MY soul!?"
The priest stepped closer. Candlelight brushed his face, revealing nothing but practiced serenity.
"When you achieve your goal," he said softly," and when you eventually return here on the day it is complete…you will already know."
Tyler's breath froze.
"Return… here?"
"Yes." The priest's voice dropped to a near-whisper." The day you achieve your ambition—the day you control the world you want to change—will be your last day on Earth."
Tyler's eyes widened. "What do you mean—my last day?! Why?!"
"Because," the priest said, "that is when the bargain ends."
Tyler's heart pounded in his ears.
"So what, I just drop dead the moment I succeed!?" he shouted." That's— that's insane!"
The priest raised a finger.
"Not drop dead." He paused. "You return to me."
Tyler stared, horrified.
The chains wrapped tighter, and his soul throbbed inside his body as if being branded.
"And until that day…" the priest continued,"…you can't die."
Tyler froze entirely.
"What…?"His voice was barely breath.
"You cannot die," the priest said. "Not permanently. Not until you reach the end of your path. Not until your purpose is fulfilled."
Tyler's face drained of color.
"Immortal…? As in—I can't die?? Even if someone tries?"
"Correct."
"That sounds like a curse," Tyler whispered.
The priest smiled faintly.
"All true gifts are curses from the wrong angle."
Tyler's mind raced. His breathing sped. "Wait—wait—there has to be more, what about—"
"Your questions," the priest interrupted, "must wait."
"Beware your power. And beware those who smell it on you. They will hunt you long before you grow strong enough to face them."
"NO—DON'T—"
But the chains suddenly yanked downward, pulling his soul out of alignment with his body. A cold shock went through his skull. His vision tore apart into white static.
The priest raised his hand in farewell.
"Live. Grow. Change your world. "His smile sharpened." And when you succeed… come home."
Everything collapsed into darkness.
And Tyler's soul was hurled out of the cathedral.