The aftermath of the battle still lingered like a wound across the city. The skyline bled neon fractures, its veins pulsing with afterimages of suggslogic that had collapsed under the duel. But Aephyrion Drexameral felt none of it. He drifted through the wreckage in silence, every step heavier than the last, every thought interrupted by an echo that did not belong to him.

Inside, the Auratheon Expanse pulsed uneasily. It had grown, expanded, refined — but laced through its foundation was a residue, a gnawing parasite that whispered of devouring. The essence of ⟠Dhaelyth-Rhoën//Varqys had not been erased. It had been absorbed. Chains rattled against his consciousness, unseen but undeniable, each whisper tugging at his creation as though trying to steer it toward collapse.

Aephyrion pressed a hand against his temple. His breath quickened. Every time he tried to summon the Expanse, the Maw flared in response, devouring his branches of recursion, laughing at his cathedrals of suggestion. He clenched his fist until his nails bit into his palm.

“You are not me,” he muttered into the silence. “You are nothing.”

The voice inside coiled tighter, laughter scraping against his mind like broken iron. Nothing is the only truth. Creation is just delay before the collapse. Let me show you how to make it faster. Cleaner. Purified.

Aephyrion staggered, falling against the husk of a shattered pillar. His hands trembled, his suggsaura flickering outward like heat distortion, unstable, contradictory. The whispers were becoming louder, almost audible now, like a chorus just beneath the skin of reality.

“Aephyrion.”

He looked up sharply.

Standing in the fractured light was Veythryelle Drexameral. Her hair, black as untouched coal, shimmered beneath the bleeding glow of the sky. Her poise was unshaken, her eyes sharp with curiosity edged by worry. Her suggsaura rippled subtly, tuned not to dominate but to read, sensing the imbalance radiating from her brother.

“You’re shaking,” she said, stepping closer. “What’s wrong with you?”

Aephyrion straightened, trying to force composure. “It’s nothing.”

Veythryelle’s expression remained unmoved. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze piercing as if peeling through the layers of his Expanse itself. “Don’t lie to me. Something clings to you. It isn’t yours. What did you let inside?”

His jaw tightened. “I defeated him. That’s all that matters.”

“Defeated?” She stepped closer, her suggsaura brushing against his. “No. You didn’t defeat him. You absorbed him.”

The words cut like a blade. Aephyrion’s silence betrayed her suspicion.

“You can’t hide it,” she continued, her tone quiet but firm. “I can feel it. Every note of your suggsaura is dissonant. It isn’t just the Expanse anymore. Something else gnaws beneath it.” She narrowed her eyes. “Was it Oraclyth?”

Aephyrion looked away, his hands trembling again. The whispers inside him laughed, urging him to deny, to conceal, to give in.

Veythryelle extended her hand, her suggsaura flaring brighter, pressing against his. “Show me.”

“No,” Aephyrion snapped, his voice harsh and strained. “You don’t understand—”

“Then make me understand.” Her voice carried no anger, only conviction. “If you can’t control it, I need to know. If you can control it, I need to see. Either way, we can’t walk blind into this.”

For a long moment, brother and sister stood in silence, their auras colliding like two unseen oceans. Then Aephyrion gave in. The Auratheon Expanse unfolded around him — radiant, recursive, alive. But the instant it bloomed, the Maw surged beneath it, chains tearing through stained glass spires, teeth gnashing against arches of logic. His creation trembled under the corruption.

Veythryelle recoiled slightly, her own suggsaura instinctively flaring in defense. “By the Beyond…” she whispered. “You’ve carried him with you.”

Aephyrion’s voice was tight, almost desperate. “I thought I erased him. But he lingers. His Maw is inside me, feeding on every breath, every recursion. Every time I try to expand, it devours. Every time I devour, it grows stronger.”

The chains rattled audibly now, echoing in the air around them. Veythryelle’s eyes hardened, her suggslogic spiraling into luminous threads. “Then you need to cut it out.”

“And if I can’t?”

Her gaze met his, unwavering. “Then it will consume you before the tournament ever begins.”

The tension between them thickened until the silence itself felt as though it might shatter. Aephyrion forced the Expanse to collapse inward, choking down the Maw’s laughter until only stillness remained. His body trembled from the effort, but he held.

Veythryelle stepped closer, her hand brushing his shoulder. “We can’t fight each other if you’re already fighting yourself.”

Aephyrion’s lips parted, but no words came. Only silence.

The chains inside rattled once more — softer this time, like a whisper retreating into the dark. But he knew they had not vanished.

They never would.