---
> "You did this,"
the masked voice whispered beside him.
"You burned the city before you ever tried to save it."
EXIN stood motionless, eyes locked on the image of his godform above the ruined city.
Crowned in entropy.
Bathed in silence.
Wielding justice with no mercy.
He wanted to deny it.
Wanted to say, "That wasn't me."
But that would've been a lie.
And the Tower no longer tolerated lies.
Neither did he.
---
The image of the burning city dissolved into particles of grief.
The masked man was gone.
So was the Spire.
EXIN stood in a void that pulsed like the veins of something ancient.
A thread connected his chest to the center of it all—an invisible line tugging on memory, soul, and essence.
Then—
A voice. Not external.
Internal. Deep.
> "Are you ready to bleed for the truth… again?"
---
The thread snapped.
And EXIN fell—
Not physically.
Mentally.
Spiritually.
Existentially.
He plunged into himself.
Into a memory not his,
but one written into the fabric of the universe.
---
He stood atop a world without sky.
No stars.
No sun.
Just white sand, and black wind, and the echo of time before it had shape.
A woman stood across from him, faceless and familiar.
> "This is where you made the promise," she said.
> "This is where you broke it."
---
She raised her hand—
Revealing a thread.
It glowed with the light of every reality that never was.
Choices unmade.
Worlds undone.
Regrets unspoken.
> "To wield the Essence of Truth, you must understand this…"
> "Power is not what you hold."
"It is what you endure."
She pressed the thread into his chest.
And he screamed.
---
The pain wasn't in flesh.
It was in memory.
Memories he never lived—but would have.
Memories of versions of himself who had died in failure.
EXIN saw:
A version of him who sacrificed his sister to save a city.
A version who let the Tower fall to protect one child.
A version who became a monster to preserve peace.
He saw every truth he'd avoided.
Every decision he could have made—played out in full.
He fell to his knees.
Crying.
Burning.
Remembering.
---
And then it stopped.
Only silence.
Only breath.
Only a single Mark burning into his palm—
---
✴️ The Fourth Mark: The Thread Between Stars
A thin scar glowing violet.
It wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet woven by fate itself.
> "The Mark of Divergent Truth," a voice whispered.
"You now see not only the truth that is… but the truths that could have been."
---
[New Essence Unlocked: Branching Sight]
He could now:
Glimpse short flashes of what would happen if he made different choices.
Feel the emotional cost of each path.
Weaponize possibility — dragging enemies into micro-realities where they face their worst decisions.
But it came with a curse:
> "Each time you use it… a piece of a possible you dies."
---
EXIN opened his eyes.
He was still in the Spire.
The masked man gone.
Only silence remained.
But something in the air had changed.
The world noticed him again.
Mana bent toward him—not as worship.
But as warning.
The Marks on his body flared.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
He was becoming something dangerous.
Not just to others.
To himself.
---
He stepped outside.
The city of Kairis still lay dead.
But above it…
the sky was watching again.
And so were they.
Whatever they were.
EXIN looked toward the horizon, where the world began to fracture.
> "Next," he whispered, "I need answers."
---
From the ruins below, something began to rise.
Mechanical.
Ancient.
Bleeding red light.
A construct not of this age.
Something that shouldn't have survived the fall of gods.
> "Next: Chapter 22 — The Machine That Dreams of Blood."
---