Kaelis climbed the silent steps to the next floor, reaching the hall within minutes. As soon as he crossed the threshold, darkness swallowed him whole.
He no longer thought — he simply walked. The darkness no longer intimidated him.
Then came the burning. A searing heat spread across his wrists and neck. Shackles of light appeared from nowhere, wrapping around his arms and throat.
He screamed.
It wasn't ordinary pain — it was something deeper, crueler. The light didn't burn the flesh… it burned the soul.
Kaelis felt torn from within. The pain was absolute.
His skin tingled as if on fire, but no wounds appeared.
No drop of blood.
Only agony.
Pure agony.
His body was pulled upward.
The Cathedral seemed to have vanished completely. Here, there was only a shadowy, infinite, and silent void, where time did not flow and the air did not tremble.
The silence weighed more than any sound.
Until she appeared.
From the void, a silhouette emerged.
Tall, slender, of no defined gender.
The figure wore ceremonial rags, like remnants of a sacred mantle unraveled by time.
Its face was hidden behind a mask of shattered mirrors, reflecting distorted fragments of Kaelis — versions of himself crying, screaming, running.
In its hand, there was a weapon.
There was a whip made of words, letters, and runes that changed constantly — floating letters and runes, sharp as razors.
It moved on its own, with the precision of a ritual.
Without warning, the first blow was struck.
It did not strike flesh, but passed through Kaelis's chest like a silent thunderclap.
"Deep down... you feel ashamed to love."
A golden rune bloomed from his collarbone, radiating pain both physical and mental… It was emotional pain — more devastating than any physical whip.
Another strike.
"Even in the midst of suffering, you still believe you are unworthy of being the chosen one."
And another.
"You desire justice... but you crave vengeance with equal fervor."
And another.
"You dream of saving... but also dream of punishing."
And another.
Each word was a blade. Each blade carved a scar of light into his skin — incandescent runes that told a story he had never dared admit.
And then, he saw.
He saw himself crying in silence in his room, so his parents wouldn't worry.
He saw the moment he pretended not to see injustice, so he wouldn't have to face the bully.
He saw when he froze before someone else's suffering… out of fear.
And he saw the love he felt for a girl — and the cowardly silence he chose instead of the truth.
He was a coward.
A hypocrite.
And the runes made that clear.
The chains of light tightened. But now, they no longer hurt.
When the last blow was delivered, Kaelis no longer screamed. He simply breathed.
Golden light flowed from his wounds, wrapped in a black mist that dripped like living ink.
There was no more blood. He bled essence.
His body had changed.
Each rune, a truth accepted.
Each pain, a part understood.
The masked figure approached and placed a hand on his chest.
"True power is born from truth... and truth is born from pain."
The mask crumbled into ashes.
And for a moment… Kaelis saw his own face.
The creature vanished, dissolved into shadows.
The chains fell.
The runes burned one last time and then fused into his skin, like permanent marks.
The void faded.
The walls of the Cathedral rebuilt themselves around him.
Before him, an altar rose in silence.
Kaelis staggered. But did not fall.
Something inside him had awakened.
Something deeper than strength.
Vaster than memory.
Awareness.
Now he knew his cracks — and because of that, he began to understand what it meant to be human.
Even if, in that moment…
Kaelis had left part of his humanity behind.