The crimson threads shimmered faintly, scattering thin light each time neon reflections brushed against them. They were stitched through the air like a delicate spiderweb ready to ensnare its prey—recording every breath drawn, every twitch of muscle, even the heartbeat of everyone in the room.
Elara stood rigid, her face soaked with tears, shoulders trembling in fear. Marrec no longer dared to touch the panel, his fingers suspended midair. Dren still held his weapon, yet the trigger remained unmoved, his jaw locked tight as if restraining himself from making a single wrong motion.
The Tyrak envoy on the floor could only stare blankly, his body shuddering each time a thread passed close to his face.
Myra stood straight, her sharp gaze fixed on the mysterious woman. Yet behind the cold sheen of her glasses, a flash of frustration and rapid calculation flickered. She knew… one misstep, and they would all be cut down without mercy.
"I do not submit out of fear," Myra muttered coldly, her voice flat yet taut, "but because I have no choice. So return everything you swallowed before."
The mysterious woman did not answer. But she acted. She simply stood there, Kael's body still held firmly in her arms, her gaze like a cold blade ready to strike at any moment.
Everything returned to normal—the code, the machine's movements—reactivated. And the red threads were withdrawn, for now.
Myra drew a deep breath, then turned to her assistant. "Elara."
The young woman flinched, her body trembling. "D-Doctor…?"
"Bring the capsule's control panel closer. Use red-code override. The coolant seal will open."
Elara swallowed hard, then walked toward the panel on unsteady legs. Her fingers shook as she pressed the holographic controls, and a heavy mechanical sound filled the hall.
Ck-kkhhrrsshhh…
The capsule wall, once a solid transparency, began to split open slowly. Two panels slid aside, revealing an inner chamber filled with cold blue liquid. White vapor billowed out, dripping onto the glass floor like liquid mist.
Inside, the body of a young woman floated—pale, eyes closed, long black hair drifting softly in the fluid. She looked fragile, her soul's pulse barely there—like a sleeping statue waiting to be forgotten.
Elara covered her mouth, her voice breaking. "…She's still breathing…"
Myra's voice sharpened. "Silence. Continue the procedure."
Marrec finally moved, though his face had gone ashen. He activated the mechanical arm hanging beside the capsule. It rotated slowly, grasped the woman's body within the fluid, then lifted her carefully out. Blue liquid streamed down, flowing across the glass floor, mingling with the cold fog.
The woman was laid onto the automated medical bed beside the capsule, her face still pale and lifeless. Elara lowered her head, unable to look any longer.
Myra stood tall, her fists clenched, her low voice heavy—laden with venom swallowed by force.
"Now… the capsule is empty. Are you satisfied?"
The mysterious woman stepped forward, mist following each stride. The faint red threads trembled in the air, as if asserting that she still commanded every inch of the room.
She looked down at Kael's body in her arms, then raised her gaze to Myra, unblinking.
"Not yet. This process is not finished until he replaces her."
Myra clenched her jaw. Her fingers trembled, yet she turned to Dren. "Take his body. Put him into the capsule."
Dren froze. His eyes shifted from Myra to the mysterious woman, then to Kael. A vein throbbed at his temple, his finger still ready on the trigger—yet a long breath finally made him lower the pistol. With heavy steps, he approached.
The mysterious woman did not resist. She slowly lowered Kael's body, surrendering it to Dren's strong arms. Even then, the red threads in the air quivered faintly, reminding everyone that any resistance would end in bloodshed.
Dren lifted Kael carefully, as if carrying something so fragile it could shatter at any moment. He moved toward the open capsule, and with a mechanical pull, the automated arm helped support the body.
Cshhrrkk—
Fresh coolant flooded in, filling the capsule chamber. Cold mist poured out, wrapping around Kael's body as it now lay inside. The fissure of light in his chest slowly dimmed, swallowed by the blue liquid enveloping him.
Elara let out a small sob, covering her mouth with both hands.
Marrec lowered his head, as though afraid to witness the scene any longer.
The capsule panels creaked again, the two transparent sides slowly closing, sealing Kael's body inside. White vapor rose, dancing like altar smoke after a sacrifice had been accepted.
When the final seal locked into place, the room sank into silence.
The mysterious woman stared intently at the capsule, her breathing slow yet heavy, as if she had just finished lifting a burden she had carried for far too long.
Myra herself stood rigid. Her eyes were sharp, but her expression was dark—a blend of hatred, fear, and the bitter realization that she had already lost.
Only the soft vibration of the cooling system remained, underscoring a tension that had yet to fade.
Then, the mysterious woman's voice broke the silence once more. She no longer looked at the capsule, but turned her gaze directly to Myra.
"There is one thing I want to know."
Myra lifted her chin, restraining herself from showing even a hint of weakness.
"What will happen," the woman asked coldly, "if he awakens later in a new world? What will be the effect?"
The room froze once more. Elara lowered her head, shoulders trembling. Marrec swallowed hard, while Dren stood rigid, his gaze fixed on the capsule.
The mysterious woman's eyes were sharp, pressing down with silent force, as if she would accept not even the smallest lie.
Now, all eyes turned to Myra—the scientist who held a truth she had never dared to speak aloud.
The silence stretched on. Machines clicked softly, white mist drifting down from the capsule that had just swallowed Kael's body. Everyone waited for an answer, but Myra remained still, staring at the transparent glass as though searching for one beyond the cold vapor.
The mysterious woman continued to wait, her gaze piercing. The red threads in the air quivered faintly, a reminder that there was no time left for deception.
At last, Myra opened her mouth. Her voice was low and heavy, as if each word had to be forced out under its own weight.
"…Cryostasis is not eternal sleep. It is… coercion. The body can be frozen, but the soul—cannot truly be."
Elara bowed her head, lips trembling. "The soul… stays awake?"
Myra turned sharply, her look a rebuke. "Not entirely. The soul is forced to remain at the threshold. Neither alive nor dead. Trapped in a thin layer between awareness and nothingness. During that process, nanites only preserve biological function. But the soul… waits in a foreign space that should not exist."
The mysterious woman narrowed her eyes. "And when he wakes?"
Myra fell silent for a moment, then let out a long breath, her voice growing heavier.
"When cryostasis is released, the soul does not return whole. It searches for its body… but what remains are fragments. Like shattered glass—pieced back together, yet the cracks never disappear."
Dren swallowed, his rough voice breaking. "You mean… his memories—"
"Yes," Myra cut in quickly. "The most fragile part. Core identity—name, origin, a few small fragments—those can endure. But the details of his life… the faces he once knew, the places he once stood, the choices he made… all of it can vanish, fracture, or intertwine."
Elara sobbed softly, covering her mouth with shaking hands. "So… when he wakes, he'll know who he is… but not who he once loved… or what he once did?"
Myra lowered her head slightly, her thin glasses reflecting the capsule's blue light.
"Correct. He will walk as a half-aware shadow. Half of him intact… the other half empty. And that… is not something that can be repaired. Nanites cannot restore memory. Even Aetherial means cannot summon back soul fragments lost in that space."
Marrec spoke quietly, almost a whisper. "That means… everyone who goes through cryostasis… always wakes up as someone different."
Myra raised her face, her gaze cold, her tone bitter.
"That is the price. You can save the body… but the soul will never return as it was. You save a life… by sacrificing memories."
She fell silent for a moment. The air around her seemed to stop moving. Then, in a softer voice, almost a whisper, she added—
"…However… there is one thing we have never been able to be certain of."
All eyes turned to her again.
Silence. The hum of machines crept into their ears.
"In some cases…" Myra swallowed, her lips stiff, "that layer of nothingness is not entirely empty. We call it cross-resonance. A rare phenomenon… less than half a percent, perhaps. But when it happens, a fractured soul can call to something—another entity that has lost its vessel, or an echo of consciousness adrift between the Aether."
Elara stared at her in horror. "You mean… something could enter him?"
Myra shook her head slowly. "Not enter. More precisely… merge. The empty space within the soul can resonate. And if that happens, the boundary between the two blurs. There is no way to be sure who will awaken… or whether what wakes can still be called him."
Dren clenched his jaw, his voice catching. "You're talking as if—"
"—as if that body could become a vessel for two echoes of consciousness," Myra continued in a voice nearly lifeless, "yet only one will hold control."
The room grew unnaturally cold. The blue mist inside the capsule stirred softly, swallowing the surrounding light.
No one dared to speak.
At last, the mysterious woman broke the silence, her voice low—almost like a prayer turning into resolve.
"If that is true…" She gazed at the capsule for a long time, her eyes reflecting the slowly pulsing blue light. "…then I only need to make sure that the one who awakens—will not be the wrong one."
Her words seemed to lock the air in place. The red threads trembled gently, resonating with the pulse of light from the capsule—before slowly settling, fading once more into something as faint as mist.
The Tyrak envoy still sprawled on the floor let out a weak snort, blood dripping from his lips. "You're… insane… talking as if… that were a blessing. When it's… a curse."
The mysterious woman inclined her head slightly, her face still cold. "Curse or blessing… only those who have lost something are allowed to decide."
The mysterious woman looked at them one by one. The red threads in the air quivered softly—nearly invisible—yet their sharp aura pierced the skin, making everyone feel as though their bodies had already been measured, mapped, their final movements decided.
Myra hardened her jaw, forcing the words out.
"You've gotten what you want. The man is inside the capsule. There's no reason left to threaten us. You can leave now."
The mysterious woman did not answer immediately. She turned her face briefly toward the capsule, gazing at Kael's body submerged in blue liquid, then looked back at Myra.
"No reason…?" Her voice was low, but it echoed deep, stabbing straight into the chest. "You are gravely mistaken."
She slowly raised her fingers. A faint glow appeared—the red threads that had been almost unseen now lit dimly, revealing that they had already wrapped around the entire room. Framing Myra, Elara, Marrec, Dren—even the envoy groaning on the floor.
"Every pair of eyes that witnesses this moment," she continued, "is a threat. If even one of you walks out alive, this story will end before it ever begins. He will never awaken in the world waiting for him."
Elara covered her mouth with both hands, tears streaming freely. "N-no… Doctor, say something… we can explain this to Tyrak, we can—"
"No!" Myra snapped, her voice cracking. She glared at the woman with naked hatred. "You have no right to decide who lives and who dies!"
The mysterious woman smiled faintly—barely there. "I do not decide. These threads merely close off possibilities that should never exist."
The tension sharpened. Cold mist drifted slowly, mingling with the dim red glimmer of threads that trembled like breathing.
Then—
Srrttt!
A single strand flashed past, so fast it was nearly unseen. Blood beaded softly in the air. Marrec let out a short scream before his body lurched—his head cleanly severed, striking the glass floor with a dull thud.
Elara screamed hysterically, but before she could run, another thread swept through, slicing her body neatly in two. Her scream cut off abruptly, leaving only red splashes in the white fog.
Dren roared, raising his weapon and firing round after round into the mist. Every bullet stopped midair, sliced into fragments before it could reach the mysterious woman. The red threads quivered again—and with a single subtle pull, Dren's massive body was cut diagonally, collapsing with eyes still wide open.
The remaining Tyrak envoy tried to crawl backward, his face pale with terror. "P-please… I'm just an envoy… just a messenger… don't—"
The mysterious woman inclined her head slightly, her voice cold. "Precisely because you are a messenger… you cannot be allowed to live and carry this story beyond this place."
Srhhhkk!
A strand crossed his face. The envoy froze for a heartbeat, then fell silent, his body cleanly divided.
Myra remained standing, even as her assistants lay scattered in pieces. Her hands trembled, but her eyes were sharp, refusing to yield. She stepped toward the holo-panel, fingers moving fast, trying to re-lock the capsule with her personal override.
"If I die," she hissed, "at least my data will live on. Tyrak will know—"
Srhhhtt!
A red thread flashed, slicing through the holo-panel and shattering it into fragments. Instantly, another strand crossed before Myra's body.
She stiffened. Her movement stopped. A thin line of blood trickled from her lips.
Myra's body slowly collapsed, cut diagonally without a scream—leaving behind a face still holding unspoken fury.
The mysterious woman lowered her head slightly, her voice cold.
"Your faith in science was too great. But there are lines it can never reach—fate has written them long before you ever tried."
Silence.
The laboratory was now filled with white mist streaked with faint red. The smell of ozone and blood saturated the air. Holo-panels flickered wildly, then shut down one by one, as if the system itself refused to record what had happened.
The mysterious woman stood at the center of the room. Kael's body remained untouched within the capsule, isolated from the tragedy around it.
"The vessel is secured. The rest, I entrust to you."
She lowered her hand, and the red threads slowly vanished—fading as if they had never existed.
She turned away, her footsteps echoing as she walked out of the hall now steeped in silence—grave-like silence.
And as the shattered doors stood open, someone emerged from the corridor.
Kael.
The present Kael—breathing hard, running, then slowing to a halt. His eyes widened at the sight before him: blood, severed bodies, and a woman in black robes stepping out of a man-made hell.
I… I'm too late… Kael thought.
The mysterious woman stopped. Her face remained cold, but her voice softened, as if she were speaking to something far beyond the young man standing beside her.
"When you awaken someday… do not fear the cracks in your memory. There will be many who are always waiting for you… even among the thousands of lies in this world."
She did not wait for an answer. She walked past Kael, her cloak brushing the floor, leaving faint mist in her wake.
Kael stood frozen. His gaze shifted to the blue capsule inside the hall, then to the retreating back of the mysterious woman.
His chest tightened, as if he had just witnessed a truth he could not fully understand… and yet, for some reason, his heart trembled.
***