Date: 2742-08-24
Time: 01:55 PM
Location: Aito's Room
Ren sat at the edge of the bed, holding the merged letter. It looked older now—like the pages had aged in his hands. The seal was gone. His name was scrawled on the front—once in the sender field, once in the receiver.
Ren stared at the letter in his hands.
No seal.
Same name. Both sides.
"Aito," Ren muttered. "I… I wrote this to myself."
"No," Aito said, frowning. "You've been with me for days. You haven't had five seconds to write an existential threat-letter to yourself between almost getting eaten by portals and yelling at your eyes."
He reached over and flipped the letter open.
The first page:
Blank.
The second page:
Also blank—until dark dots flickered to life, forming lines and breaks.
"Morse code?" Aito asked.
Ren leaned in. "Looks like it, but… it's not translating."
BLAZE:
"Confirmed. The sequence is obfuscated. It's Morse, but layered with embedded data. It's not just a message. It's a lock."
FROST:
"Or a prank. Could be a prank. We are talking about you sending messages to yourself."
Ren sighed. "Great. My future self is cryptic and has bad handwriting."
"Should we burn it?" Aito asked. "Or eat it?"
Ren blinked. "Eat it?!"
"I'm just saying, all other options have failed."
Then Ren paused. His fingers brushed the edge of the paper. "The shadow. He said… 'Visit the shrine. At night.'"
Aito stared at him. "You really want to go to a forgotten haunted shrine in the woods… because a sword ghost told you to?"
"Yes," Ren said.
Aito groaned and stood up. "Alright, fine. But if I get cursed, you're buying me lunch forever."
Time: 21:03 JST
Location: Shrine Grounds
The shrine was quiet. Too quiet.
No animals. No wind. Just old wood creaking and the faint scent of burned incense. The lanterns were cold. The stones under their feet felt older than the air.
"Creepy," Aito muttered. "Why is every ancient location built to make my skin crawl?"
The ground suddenly pulsed under their feet.
A circular seal of light bloomed beneath them—soft, humming, like a whisper in the bones.
A portal unfurled like petals of obsidian glass.
Ren didn't hesitate.
Aito grabbed his sleeve. "Wait, we don't even know—"
Too late.
They were already falling in.
Location: The Trial Realm – Entry Chamber
They landed hard—black glass and glowing white sand swirling under their feet. The world stretched tall and thin, like perspective had lost all sense of physics.
A single floating path led ahead.
BLAZE:
"This place is not natural. It's built from Aetherium memory. And worse, it's active."
Ren staggered. "My head… burning—!"
His eyes pulsed gold and blue, light flaring from both optics.
He dropped to one knee.
FROST:
"Your Core is syncing with the realm's signature. This place was made for you. Or by you."
BLAZE:
"Brace yourself. We are walking into a sequence of tests. This is not a vision. It's real."
Aito helped him up. "You okay?"
"Barely," Ren muttered. "But I can feel the way forward."
Obstacle 1: The Platform Puzzle
A chasm opened before them—bottomless, pulsing with slow starlight.
Floating hexagonal platforms began to rise in chaotic rhythm. Some steady. Some blinking. Some vanishing mid-air.
Aito tilted his head. "Looks like Mario Maker, but evil."
FROST:
"You should go first, platform boy."
Ren's eyes narrowed, scanning the rhythm. "Three-second delay on red ones. Blue flickers. Gray vanishes."
He sprinted.
Aito followed, yelping every time a tile trembled beneath his sneakers.
Ren jumped the last gap and turned to see Aito dramatically dive to the final tile like it was a finish line.
Aito lay flat, gasping. "I hate everything."
Obstacle 2: The Mirror Hall
They entered a corridor where mirrors stretched infinitely.
Each one reflected a different version of themselves.
Ren in a black coat, older.
Ren with no optics.
Aito wearing full samurai armor.
Ren... alone.
Ren's breath caught. "What are these?"
BLAZE:
"Time shadows. Versions of you that could have been, or might be. Most of them are wrong."
FROST:
"Except that one where Aito actually works out. That's my favorite."
"Hey!" Aito barked.
A single mirror at the end didn't show anything. No reflection.
Ren walked through it.
Obstacle 3: Memory Sink
Dozens of floating cubes hovered in the air—each pulsing with light and showing fragments.
Ren's life.
Falling asleep in class. Crying alone. That time he ran away. The moment he touched the Core.
The memories poured into his head like knives.
He dropped to the ground.
BLAZE:
"This is a psychological sink. Fight it."
"I'm not… the mistake," Ren whispered. "I'm not a copy. I'm not broken."
He reached out—grabbed one cube—crushed it.
The others shattered, and the path opened.
Final Challenge: The Core Gate
A door towered before them—circular, marked with glowing rings and intricate pulses of gold and blue. Aetherium.
Ren stepped forward, eyes flickering violently.
BLAZE:
"The interface needs a full sync. I'll do it. But you have to survive it."
"Do it," Ren whispered.
He pressed his hand to the core.
Aetherium energy ripped through his skull. Both eyes erupted with light. His body screamed in pain, but he stood.
FROST:
"Okay, I'm impressed. You're not dead. Yet."
The gate opened with a hiss of ancient air, revealing a narrow corridor lit by hovering golden glyphs.
Ren stepped forward cautiously.
No traps.
No puzzles.
Just… silence.
BLAZE:
"Wait. Hold on. I'm detecting another Aetherium core signature — 40 meters northeast. Visualizing now."
A small flicker burst in front of Ren's left eye — a holographic map flaring into view. It showed their location, the gate they had just opened… and a pulsing beacon marked "CORE-2" up ahead, tucked neatly into a chamber labeled No Traps Detected.
FROST:
"Well that's suspicious. A second Core? Just lying there like some divine BOGO sale?"
Ren narrowed his eyes. "Guys… it's just sitting there. Why would there be a second Core with no defenses?"
"Who are you talking to?" Aito asked, already fiddling with a shrine charm he'd found and absolutely shouldn't be touching.
"My eyes."
"Oh right, the glowstick twins," Aito said, deadpan. "You sure they're not just messing with you again?"
FROST:
"We could mess with him, but we're too busy preventing your skin sack from being vaporized by ancient tech, so you're welcome."
BLAZE:
"Aito doesn't hear us. Remind me why we're not muting the feed when he talks?"
Ren sighed. "They're bickering again."
"Tell them I'll bicker with my foot up their processor if this turns into another acid hallway," Aito said, arms crossed.
Ren smirked. "Blaze, Frost — he says he'll upgrade you both with violence."
BLAZE:
"Noted. File created: 'Aito Threatens Violence'. Shall I log it under delusional bravado or adorable bravery?"
FROST:
"Option three: irrelevant NPC noise."
Ren groaned. "Alright, I vote we grab the Core and get the hell out before this shrine throws us into another pocket dimension full of moral lessons and back pain."
Aito eyed the glowing corridor. "Yeah… sure. Let's just take the incredibly suspicious, possibly cursed second Core and not think about consequences."
"Glad we agree."
They reached the chamber.
In the center, sitting on an altar made of stone and soft light — the second Aetherium Core.
Unlike the last, this one hummed with a faint, calm pulse. Gentle. Steady. Almost… inviting.
No traps triggered.
No alarms screamed.
Ren picked it up.
No pain.
Just a warm, low thrummm against his skin.
BLAZE:
"This one's different. Not bonded to a wielder. It's inert. Raw potential. Like a blank slate."
FROST:
"Or a decoy. A shiny death marble waiting to explode. Classic trap bait."
Aito tilted his head. "Are you okay? You're holding a glowing rock and staring at nothing again."
Ren blinked. "Sorry. Blaze is having a morality crisis. Frost thinks it's a trap."
"Well tell them both to shut up unless one of them can help us carry it."
FROST:
"Tell him I'm the reason his teeth aren't scattered across this shrine after that first fall."
BLAZE:
"And that I'm the reason he hasn't been crushed by psychological memory trauma. Gratitude would be appreciated."
Ren muttered, "They both want a thank-you."
"I'll thank them with a vacuum cleaner and a USB slot," Aito said, turning toward the exit tunnel.
Just then, with a rumbling thud, another gate spiraled open behind them.
Not the same kind of portal.
This one… was the exit.
Cold wind swept through the shrine. Moonlight flickered across the stone floor like it was afraid to step inside.
Ren stepped forward, cradling the new Core in both hands.
But before they could walk through, the light bent—and something stepped out of the shadows.
A tall figure made of stone and moss, wrapped in ancient prayer tags and shrine ropes. Its face was smooth. No mouth. Just two massive glowing eyes—watching.
It didn't speak.
It just stood, unmoving, a silent warning.
Aito's voice went high. "Okay. Nope. Nope-nope-nope. You said there'd be no more guardians."
Ren didn't respond.
Because he wasn't sure if the figure was real—
—or if it had just been waiting.