Eventually, he rose.
No urgency. No clarity.
Just the sense that whatever had kept him still had passed.
He looked down at the sword.
His fingers brushed the hilt.
Cold. Balanced. Unremarkable in every way. No glow. No hum. No warmth.
Just weight.
He didn't know why he reached for it. Not really.
There was no memory pulling him. No voice urging him on.
Only a quiet pressure in his chest. Steady. Wordless.
He tightened his grip.
And pulled.
The blade rose free without resistance. The stone didn't crack. The air didn't shift.
No light. No sound.
But something inside him... aligned.
He stood for a moment, the sword held in both hands. It wasn't elegant. It wasn't powerful. But it was real.
And it was his.
Somewhere in the corner of his vision, a pale mark flickered into view. No movement. No sound. Just presence.
He focused without meaning to.
[ SYSTEM INTERFACE ENGAGED ]
[ Recognition: Subject Confirmed ][ Alignment: Route of Force ][ First Anchor Established ][ Weapon Signature Recorded ][ Inventory Access: Authorized ]
[ Subroutine: OVERRUN ]— Suppression Resistance: Active— Limiter Override: In Progress— Directive Status: Violence Permitted
[ Sync Integrity: 3% ][ System Stability: Acceptable ]
Then it faded.
He blinked. Slowly.
The image didn't return.
It wasn't the world that responded.It was something he'd already set in motion.
He shifted his grip.
The sword dissolved as he moved, slipping into absence like it had been swallowed by the space behind him.
[ Inventory Initialized ]
[ Weapon Equipped: Slot 01 ]
He didn't flinch.
The figure had turned, gliding toward a gap between the trees that hadn't been there before.
He followed.
Because standing still no longer felt like the right choice.