Agatha's breath stopped completely, her entire body going rigid.
"Did it just..."
Lily's face had gone pale, her mind recognizing the gravity of what she'd just heard.
"The tribulation consciousness spoke directly! That's... that's not supposed to happen! In all the bloodline memories, the tribulation never spoke! It just tests and judges through action!"
Her hands clenched.
"Whatever path Nephew is walking, it has drawn the attention of something far beyond normal universal rules."
Neither of them spoke after that, their eyes locked on Damian's broken form in the distance.
****
The ancient voice spoke again, emotionless and final.
"Mortal, what do you choose?"
Time seemed to slow down.
Damian knelt on scorched stone, his body broken and dying, half his skin charred black, blood pooling beneath him.
His crimson hair fell forward, obscuring his face.
Then he whispered, his voice so quiet it shouldn't have carried.
"You?"
His shoulders began shaking.
