Three weeks.

Three weeks of training, running, hiding, and occasionally blowing up abandoned buildings by accident.

Three weeks of Chara learning how to be two people at once her living body and her ghostly self while The Architect grew dimmer, quieter, and more strained with every passing day.

Three weeks of The End’s presence creeping closer, like a storm cloud that only they could see.

And now?

Things were getting worse.

Chara’s body jogged down the cracked sidewalk, panting. Her ghost floated beside her, not panting at all.

“Come on,” her ghost said. “You’re slowing down.”

Her body glared. “You don’t have lungs. Shut up.”

The Architect followed behind them, his cosmic form flickering like a glitching star. He was trying to look composed, but Chara could see the strain.

Reality was fraying.

People were noticing.

Not consciously humans were great at ignoring the impossible but the signs were everywhere:

• Birds flying in perfect geometric patterns

• Streetlights flickering in Morse code

• Shadows moving independently of their owners

• A bus that briefly turned inside-out before snapping back

The End was pushing.

Hard.

But they reached their makeshift training ground an abandoned skate park on the edge of the city. The Architect raised a hand, sealing the area with a shimmering barrier.

Chara’s body collapsed onto a bench. “Okay. What’s today’s torture?”

Her ghost hovered above her. “Please say it’s not the phasing drills. I still get stuck in walls.”

The Architect shook his head. “Today, we test your resonance.”

Both Charas groaned.

Her body said, “Last time I resonated, I blew up a dumpster.”

Her ghost added, “And a mailbox. And a squirrel.”

“The squirrel survived,” The Architect said.

“Barely!”

He ignored them and conjured a glowing sphere of cosmic energy — larger than any he’d used before.

Chara’s ghost drifted back. “Uh… that looks dangerous.”

“It is,” he said simply. “But necessary.”

Chara’s body stood, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Okay. Fine. What do I do?”

“You reach for it,” he said. “With intention. With control.”

Her ghost muttered, “With a fire extinguisher nearby.”

Chara’s body extended her hand.

Her ghost mirrored the motion.

The sphere pulsed.

The air vibrated.

The Architect watched closely, ready to intervene.

Chara felt it a pull, a hum, a warmth that wasn’t hers but somehow was. Her ghost flickered, drawn toward the sphere like a magnet.

Her body whispered, “I can feel it…”

Her ghost whispered, “Me too…”

The sphere brightened.

The Architect tensed. “Chara. Slowly.”

But Chara wasn’t listening.

She was feeling.

For the first time, her body and ghost were in sync — perfectly aligned, perfectly balanced, perfectly—

CRACK.

A shockwave burst outward.

The sphere shattered.

The Architect was thrown backward.

Chara’s ghost was flung into the air.

Chara’s body collapsed to her knees, clutching her chest.

The world around them rippled like a disturbed pond.

The Architect scrambled to his feet. “Chara! Are you—”

He froze.

Because Chara’s body was glowing.

Not faintly.

Not subtly.

But brightly like a star trying to be born.

Her ghost hovered beside her, flickering violently.

Chara’s body gasped. “I—I can’t—turn it off—!”

Her ghost screamed, “I’m being pulled—!”

The Architect rushed forward, grabbing both versions of her and forcing them apart.

The glow faded.

Chara’s body collapsed.

Her ghost dimmed.

The Architect knelt between them, breathing hard.

“That,” he said, “was too close.”

Chara’s body coughed. “What… what happened?”

Her ghost whispered, “I think we almost merged.”

The Architect nodded grimly. “Yes. And if you had… the consequences would have been catastrophic.”

Chara’s body shivered. “For me?”

“For everything.”

Chara’s ghost floated closer, studying him. “You’re fading.”

He didn’t deny it.

“The End draws strength from instability,” he said. “And your resonance is… volatile.”

Chara’s body frowned. “So I’m making you weaker?”

“No,” he said gently. “The End is making me weaker. You are simply… accelerating the process.”

Her ghost groaned. “Wow. That makes me feel so much better.”

The Architect placed a hand on her shoulder. “Chara. Listen to me. You are not a burden. You are not a mistake. You are the reason we still have a chance.”

Her body blinked. “A chance for what?”

He hesitated.

Then said the words he’d been avoiding:

“A chance to win.”

The sky darkened.

Not with clouds.

With cracks.

Thin, jagged lines of darkness spread across the sky like fractures in glass.

Chara’s ghost whispered, “Oh no.”

Chara’s body whispered, “Oh no no no”

The Architect stood, cosmic energy flaring around him. “It has begun.”

A voice echoed across the city deep, resonant, impossible to ignore.

“THE NEXUS AWAKENS.”

Chara’s ghost trembled. “It’s talking about me.”

Chara’s body grabbed her own arms, shaking. “It’s coming for me.”

The Architect stepped in front of them, shielding both versions of her.

“Yes,” he said. “And we must be ready.”

Chara swallowed hard.

Her ghost whispered, “Ready for what?”

The Architect looked at her both of her with a mixture of fear and pride.

“For the moment,” he said, “when you must choose who you become.”

[a while later after running again.]

The sky didn’t break all at once.

It started with hairline fractures thin, dark lines that spider‑webbed across the clouds like someone had taken a cosmic chisel to the atmosphere. Most people didn’t notice. They blamed it on weird lighting, smog, or their phone cameras glitching.

But Chara noticed.

Both of her.

Her body stood on the rooftop of an abandoned office building, staring up at the fractured sky with wide, terrified eyes. Her ghost hovered beside her, flickering with nervous energy.

“This is bad,” her ghost whispered.

Her body nodded. “This is really, really bad.”

The Architect appeared behind them, his cosmic form dimmer than ever. “The End is accelerating the unraveling. It wants to force your awakening.”

Chara’s body turned. “Awakening? You keep saying that. What does it mean?”

Her ghost added, “And why does it sound like a bad anime power‑up?”

The Architect hesitated and that alone made both Charas tense.

“Your anomaly is evolving,” he said. “Your soul and body are beginning to resonate with creation energy. My energy.”

Chara’s body blinked. “So I’m becoming like you?”

“No,” he said. “Not like me. Something new.”

Her ghost frowned. “New how?”

He didn’t answer.

Because the sky cracked again louder this time.

A sound like breaking glass echoed across the city.

People finally looked up.

And screamed.

A tear opened in the sky a jagged wound of swirling darkness. Tendrils of shadow spilled out, reaching toward the city like searching fingers.

Chara’s body stumbled back. “Oh god—oh god—what is that?!”

Her ghost whispered, “It’s here.”

The Architect stepped forward, raising his hands. “Stay behind me.”

A beam of cosmic light shot from his palms, striking the tear. The shadows recoiled, hissing.

But the tear didn’t close.

It widened.

A voice echoed from the void deep, resonant, impossible to ignore.

“THE NEXUS MUST BE CLAIMED.”

Chara’s ghost trembled. “It’s talking about me.”

Chara’s body grabbed her own arms, shaking. “Why does it want me so badly?!”

The Architect didn’t look away from the tear. “Because you are the only thing that can stop it.”

Her ghost blinked. “Wait ME?! I’m barely holding myself together!”

Her body added, “I can’t even run without tripping!”

The Architect’s voice was steady. “You are the anomaly. The paradox. The bridge between creation and destruction. The End fears what you may become.”

The tear pulsed.

A massive shadowed hand reached through.

Chara screamed.

The Architect unleashed another blast of cosmic energy brighter, stronger, desperate.

The hand recoiled.

But only slightly.

He was weakening.

Fast.

The Architect staggered backward, his cosmic form flickering violently.

Chara’s body rushed to him. “Hey—HEY—stay with us!”

Her ghost hovered frantically. “You’re fading!”

He tried to stand tall, but his knees buckled. “The End… draws strength from the unraveling… I cannot hold it back alone.”

Chara’s body grabbed his arm. “Then don’t! Let us help!”

Her ghost nodded. “Yeah! I blasted a Harbinger last week! I can do it again!”

He shook his head. “No. You are not ready.”

The tear widened further.

The shadowed hand reached again.

Chara’s ghost screamed, “We don’t have time to be ready!”

The Architect looked at her both of her with something like fear.

“Chara… if you use your resonance now… you may not survive.”

Chara’s body swallowed hard. “And if I don’t?”

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

The tear pulsed again.

The hand lunged.

Chara’s ghost moved first nstinctively, recklessly, stupidly brave.

She threw herself between the hand and her body.

Her ghostly form flared with light.

The hand recoiled, hissing.

Chara’s body felt the surge a pull, a hum, a warmth that wasn’t hers but somehow was. She raised her hands, trembling.

“I—I can feel it—”

Her ghost shouted, “Don’t! You’ll merge!”

“I don’t care!”

The Architect reached for her. “Chara, STOP—!”

But it was too late.

Chara’s body and ghost aligned.

Perfectly.

For a split second.

A spark ignited between them bright, blinding, terrifying.

The shadowed hand froze.

The tear shuddered.

The End’s voice boomed:

“THE NEXUS AWAKENS.”

Chara screamed.

Her ghost screamed.

The Architect screamed her name.

And then—

BOOM.

A shockwave exploded outward, blasting the rooftop apart.

The tear snapped shut.

The shadow vanished.

Silence.

Smoke.

Dust.

Chara’s body lay unconscious on the ground.

Her ghost hovered above her, dim and flickering like a dying ember.

The Architect crawled toward them, shaking.

“Chara…?”

Her ghost looked at him with hollow eyes.

“I… I felt everything,” she whispered. “All of it. Creation. Destruction. You. The End. Everything.”

The Architect’s voice trembled. “You were not ready.”

Her ghost whispered, “I know.”

She looked down at her unconscious body.

And whispered the words that chilled him to his core:

“I think… I’m changing.”