While Geto was taken to safety by Tetsuya. Helena (future Satoru) and LuzHela headed straight for towards the gravitational pull that whispered to their souls.

// End of Helena Satoru and Geto Suguru’s arrival here.//

Tetsuya.

He appeared without sound, stepping out of a shadow that shouldn’t have existed. At first he seemed unremarkable in appearance—average height, unremarkable clothes—but his eyes held the weight of someone who had seen the ends of worlds. He looked at Suguru, then at the pull, then at Helena.

“You’re bleeding from the soul,” he noted…

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Helena turns to LuzHela. LuzHela nods knowingly at Helena, her usually monotone voice carrying a trace of… hunger. “A resonance. Power. It is ancient. It is waiting.”

Suguru tried to protest their interest weakly. “It’s a trap. You both have targets on your backs, and that thing is bait.”

But the pull was undeniable. For both Helena and…

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“The Spiral…?” Suguru mumbled, his vision tunneling. The pull of unconsciousness was strong, dragging at his limbs. He was vaguely aware of being pulled, of Helena’s firm grip, and of LuzHela walking beside them, her presence a cold, protective wall against the horrors of the necropolis.

The Pull.

It started as a headache—a throbbing ache…

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Helena hauled Suguru to his feet, dragging him away from the epicenter of the attack. “We need to move, now. The Spiral Tower is close.” They didn’t notice Tetsuya waiting there.

“The borderland wakes,” she rumbled. “It smells the confusion in your blood, sorcerer.”

Before Geto could respond, the pavement burst. Tendrils of the bioluminescent vines, thick as pythons and tipped with needle-like thorns, erupted from the ground where Helena stood. They were fast—too fast for a man without his curses.

But LuzHela was…

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“Weakling?!”

Suguru wanted to push past her, but the world tilted violently. The skyline swam, the violet sky dipping and swooping like a sick bird. He swayed on his feet, the metallic taste in his mouth thickening to copper.

“I…” He tried to speak, but his mind was fog. The last time he had felt this powerless, he had been a child watching…

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Helena moved like lightning. She stepped in front of Suguru, her hand pressing firmly against his chest, halting his aggressive advance. Her eyes, usually soft, were now sharp and urgent.

“No, Suguru. Stop.” She glanced back at the towering LuzHela, then at the dizziness clearly affecting Suguru. “She’s not the enemy. Not right now. Look at yourself.”

The air in this place tasted of stale ozone and pulverized concrete—a sharp, metallic tang that clung to the back of Suguru Geto’s throat. He didn’t know how he had arrived here. The last thing he remembered was the sensation of fading, the weight of his own choices pressing down on him like a shroud. He blinked, his dark, shoulder-length…

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