Seina opened her eyes to nothing.
It wasn't darkness, nor light. It was the absolute absence of reference. She was standing, still dressed in the bloodstained pajamas from the previous cycle. The memory struck like a blade: the plastic around her neck, the knife in her abdomen, Thalya's body collapsing in the hallway, violet eyes frozen in eternal shock.
Her hand flew instinctively to the wound. The fabric was wet, warm. Real blood slipped between her fingers, dripping into the void below.
The moment the first drop touched the "ground," a crimson circle spread like ink in water, turning the nothingness into an opaque, sticky floor of dried blood. The metallic stench filled her nostrils. The ground pulsed faintly, as if breathing with her panic.
"Calm yourself, child."
The voice came from within the silence—female, rough, without warmth. As if the air itself had decided to speak.
Seina spun around, gasping. Before her stood a tall, slender figure, porcelain skin gleaming beneath a light with no source. The body was androgynous, fluid, without defined traits. The face was a smooth mask: soft grooves where eyes, nose, and mouth should have been. No openings. No human features.
"Breathe in. Hold. Count to ten," the voice commanded, emanating directly from the air around the figure. "It worked for the others before you."
Seina obeyed out of sheer shock. She closed her eyes. Counted.
One… two… three…
The blood was still running, warm and sticky.
Four… five… six…
Her breathing, once chaos, found a forced rhythm.
Seven… eight… nine… ten.
She opened her eyes.
The floor of dried blood was gone. Now she stood on calm, crystal-clear water, a perfect mirror reflecting an infinite blue sky—no clouds, no end. The peace was oppressive, almost suffocating. The wound in her abdomen no longer hurt. The blood was gone. But the trembling in her hands remained.
The figure stood a few meters away, reflected perfectly on the liquid surface.
"Where am I?" Seina asked, her voice hoarse and low. "Who are you?"
The entity tilted its head at an impossible angle, without any movement of a neck.
"An interstice. Between one breath and the next. I am the Arbitrary. An existence generated by the final act of will of Alyna Everhart. Some call me the Guardian of the Reset."
Seina felt the mirror-like ground tremble faintly beneath her feet. Small ripples formed, as if the water reacted to the name.
"Thalya's mother?" she asked, louder now. "She… created you?"
"I was not created. I was condemned." The voice was pure fact, without emotion. "Alyna Everhart forged the rules of this cycle under coercion. The price was the life of her bloodline and of all who opposed the pact. I am the sentence. Their will, twisted by her desire to protect her daughter."
As it spoke, the blue sky darkened in deep purple blotches. In the water's mirror, the reflections changed: distorted human silhouettes, contorted in silent agony, arms outstretched as if begging. The sacrificed. The ground rippled harder, as though Seina's despair were feeding the transformation.
She took a step back. The movement created new ripples—dark, agitated.
"And the creature? The white eyes…" she asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.
"It is the part of me that never accepted peace." The Arbitrary raised a fingerless hand, pointing to the purple shadows around them. "The rage, the fear, the injustice of those who were offered against their will. It is the warden of the sentence. It ensures the price continues to be paid."
Pairs of white eyes flashed for an instant at the periphery, then vanished. The air turned icy, cutting.
Seina felt her chest tighten. The mirror-ground cracked with a dry snap—a black line snaking beneath her feet, reflecting the fear she tried to repress.
"And Thalya?" she asked, her voice shaking. "She is… the anchor? Everything revolves around her?"
The Arbitrary nodded once, a slow, solemn motion.
"The pact was sealed through her. Her life is the axis. As long as she lives, the cycle persists. When she dies… everything restarts. One way or another. Illness. Accident." A brief, heavy pause. "Or the blade of a friend."
The mention of Malori hit like a punch. The mirror-ground split deeper, the crack opening into black veins that pulsed like exposed arteries. The purple sky intensified, silent thunder rolling at its edges.
Seina clenched her fists. Hot tears spilled, dripping into the water. Each drop formed small ripples of red light, like diluted blood.
"Why am I here?" she asked, almost shouting. "Why did you bring me to this place?"
"Your mind was on the brink of rupture." The Arbitrary's voice was calm, almost gentle. "You saw too much. Felt too much. This interstice exists to protect what remains of you. Your soul was about to ignite. Now you can breathe. Time waits for your recovery."
Seina looked down. The cracks in the mirror began to close slowly, like wounds healing. The sky lightened a little, returning to a pale blue.
"And when I wake up… will I remember this?"
"No." The Arbitrary began to dissolve into the light, becoming translucent. "This place will be erased from your spirit. This conversation, dispersed like mist in the sun. The mortal mind is a fragile vessel. The knowledge I carry is an ocean. To take it with you would be your ruin."
Seina stepped forward, desperate.
"But… Thalya. How do I protect her if I don't know what to do?"
The figure was almost transparent now.
"Rest. And when you wake, fight. Like all the others before you."
The icy mountain in the distance appeared suddenly, pale and imposing, like a frozen tomb. The sky and the mirror-ground were sucked into a single point of blinding light.
Everything collapsed.
Seina felt the void swallow her again—not like death, but like a forced sleep.
And then, nothing.