The air was thick with an unnatural silence, pressing against Riku’s ears like a suffocating weight. The moment he stepped through the twisted, mouth-like opening, the crimson threads sealed shut behind him, cutting him off from Kaito and Reina. A chill ran down his spine. There was no turning back.
The corridor before him stretched endlessly, the walls lined with grotesque, moving sigils—faces frozen in silent screams, their eyes hollow, their mouths twisted in eternal agony. The deeper he went, the colder the air became, his breath coming out in visible puffs.
The sigil on his arm burned like molten iron, reacting to whatever force lay ahead.
This isn’t just another hidden chamber… this place is alive.
Riku moved cautiously, his senses heightened. The corridor twisted unnaturally, shifting as if the walls were breathing. He placed a hand against the stone—warm.
Then he heard it.
A whisper.
No—whispers. Thousands of them, layered over one another, murmuring in voices long lost to time.
"Riku… Kurobane…"
He froze.
The voices knew his name.
A gust of cold wind swept through the chamber, and suddenly—they appeared.
Figures emerged from the walls, their bodies composed of tattered threads, their faces flickering like distorted memories. Their hollow eyes bore into him, empty yet filled with endless sorrow.
These weren’t just ghosts.
They were the remnants of every pact-holder who had failed.
Trapped. Forgotten. Devoured by the system.
One stepped forward, its voice rasping. “You walk the same path. You will join us.”
Riku took a step back, heart hammering. “No. I’m not dying here.”
Another figure—a woman with empty eye sockets—lunged.
Riku barely dodged, rolling to the side as her claw-like fingers scraped against the stone, leaving deep gouges.
The other spirits followed, their movements jerky and unnatural, whispering his name in a terrifying chorus.
He raised his hand, black tendrils bursting from his sigil, striking out. But the attacks phased through them.
"I can’t fight them like this."
Then he saw it—a doorway at the end of the corridor. An ancient archway, pulsing with an eerie light.
The exit.
Riku sprinted, weaving through the spirits as they clawed at him. One latched onto his shoulder, and an unbearable cold sank into his bones—memories, not his own, flooding his mind.
Pain. Betrayal. Screams.
Pact-holders begging for mercy.
And then—darkness.
"This is what happens when you fail."
With a surge of will, Riku ripped free, dashing through the archway.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the spirits vanished.
Silence.
His chest rose and fell rapidly as he steadied himself, the weight of the vision still pressing on him.
Then, a voice echoed from the darkness ahead.
"You shouldn’t have come here."
A single figure stood in the vast chamber before him.
Unlike the Thread Knight, this being was different—tall, draped in flowing robes of dark crimson, its face hidden behind an obsidian mask. A massive, spear-like weapon was gripped in its clawed hands, threads of energy coiling around its form like living snakes.
It radiated pure dread.
"You have destroyed two crystals. You seek the third."
Riku clenched his fists. "I’m ending this system. I won’t stop."
The Guardian tilted its head. "Then you will break. Like the rest."
Without warning—it attacked.
The spear shot forward with impossible speed, aimed directly at Riku’s heart. He barely managed to dodge, the air splitting apart from the sheer force.
The Guardian vanished.
Then—Riku’s instincts screamed.
He spun just in time to see the spear materializing behind him, already in motion.
It struck.
A searing pain exploded through his side. The impact hurled him across the chamber, slamming him into the stone wall. Blood dripped from his lips.
"Too fast—"
The Guardian appeared before him, its movements eerily smooth. "You will never reach the last crystal. Your thread ends here."
Riku coughed, struggling to stand. The sigil on his arm flared violently as if trying to keep him from losing consciousness.
Then—Sable’s voice, cold and sharp, slashed through his mind.
"Enough. Let me in."
Riku gritted his teeth. "I won’t let you take over."
"Then you die."
The Guardian raised its spear for the final strike.
Meanwhile—aboveground.
Kaito and Reina moved quickly through the restricted archives, a place buried beneath the main faculty building, concealed behind layers of magic.
They had discovered a hidden passage leading to the true history of Crimson High.
Reina traced a gloved hand over the dust-covered books, pulling out one labeled:
"The First Pact."
She flipped through the brittle pages, her brows furrowing. "This doesn’t make sense… The pacts weren’t created to give power."
Kaito looked over. "What?"
Reina’s voice was grim. "They were created to feed something."
A pause.
Then—a distorted whisper filled the chamber.
"You’ve seen too much."
The walls shifted.
The floor twisted.
Shadows detached from reality, rising from the ground, taking shape.
The faculty’s secret enforcers.
Reina’s expression darkened. "Damn it. They found us."
Kaito reached for his blade. "No choice, then. We fight."
Back in the sealed chamber—Riku was losing.
The Guardian was relentless. His body was broken, blood dripping onto the stone, vision blurring.
The sigil on his arm pulsed erratically, a warning.
Sable’s voice grew louder.
"Say it, Riku. Say the words and let me in."
The Guardian prepared its final attack.
Riku’s vision flickered.
His body was failing.
Then—
A memory.
Not his own.
The Headmaster, standing before the first altar, binding Sable’s soul into the pact system.
The Headmaster’s voice, cold and merciless.
"One day, another will come, one stronger than you. When they do… make sure they suffer."
Sable’s scream of agony, his soul shattered and reshaped.
Riku gasped.
And something in him snapped.
The sigil burned brighter than ever—but this time, it wasn’t just Sable’s energy.
It was Riku’s own power.
A power the system never accounted for.
He raised his hand—not to surrender, but to take.
Black and crimson energy burst from his body, wrapping around the Guardian’s spear.
For the first time—it hesitated.
Riku smirked. "I’m not like the others."
With a single motion, he ripped the Guardian’s core thread apart.
The creature let out a hollow scream as it disintegrated.
The third crystal stood unguarded.
And Riku, covered in blood, stepped forward.
"Time to end this."
Deep underground, the Headmaster turned from his sigil mirror, fingers steepled.
A slow, knowing smile spread beneath his mask.
"So… you finally woke up."
In the shadows, Sable’s laughter echoed.
"This is going to be fun."
The chamber trembled.
The walls, once lined with sigils of forgotten pact-holders, cracked, the energy inside the room becoming unstable. The third crystal pulsed violently, as if aware of its impending destruction. It no longer glowed with an eerie, ominous light—it screamed, releasing distorted, fractured whispers of the souls still trapped within.
Riku wiped the blood from his mouth, his entire body aching from his battle with the Guardian. The sigil on his arm was burning—hotter than ever—but for the first time, it didn’t feel like it was devouring him.
No.
He was controlling it.
Standing before the crystal, he clenched his fists. "This ends now."
Far beneath Crimson High, in a hidden chamber untouched by time, the Headmaster stood before a massive, floating construct—a web of glowing red threads, twisting and stretching across the room like the veins of a living entity.
The last four remaining crystals pulsed within this web, their energy feeding into the school's very foundation.
Around the room, seven faculty members stood in a circle, each cloaked in ceremonial robes, their hands raised in preparation for what was to come.
One of them, a woman with piercing yellow eyes, stepped forward. “Three crystals have fallen. If he destroys the fourth, the school will destabilize beyond repair.”
The Headmaster remained still.
"Then it's time we stop holding back."
A single thread in the air twitched.
A silent command.
From the depths of the shadows, something moved.
Riku raised his hand, dark tendrils of energy bursting from the sigil on his arm. The energy coiled around the crystal, suffocating it, pressing against its core. The moment his power touched it, the whispers became screams.
“Wait—” a voice suddenly spoke.
Riku’s breath caught.
It wasn’t Sable. It wasn’t the voices of the trapped souls.
It was... his own voice.
"Don’t destroy it yet."
The air around him twisted. A mirror-like illusion appeared over the crystal, showing him something unexpected—himself, standing in a ruined version of Crimson High.
But this version of him was different.
His sigil was completely black, his eyes a deep, endless void, his body wrapped in chains made of the same cursed threads that bound the school.
"If you break this crystal," the other Riku said, his voice hollow, "you don’t win. You fall into his hands."
Riku stumbled back, heart racing. "What the hell are you?"
The mirror-image Riku tilted his head. "I’m the version of you that lost."
The vision shifted.
Suddenly, Riku was not in the chamber anymore.
He stood in a massive throne room, walls covered in glowing sigils, pacts written in ancient ink, stretching infinitely.
And at the center—a throne made of threads.
Sitting atop it was the Headmaster, his silver mask reflecting nothing.
"Ah," the Headmaster’s voice echoed, smooth as silk. "I was wondering when you’d see this."
Riku clenched his fists. "You… You planned this."
The Headmaster’s fingers tapped against the armrest. "Of course I did."
He gestured toward the walls, and suddenly, the sigils shifted, showing Riku images of himself, Kaito, Reina, and every pact-holder before them.
"Did you really think you were the first to try and break the system?" the Headmaster asked, his voice laced with amusement. "No, Riku. You are simply the latest attempt. And like all the others before you, you will either break… or be consumed."
The air grew thick.
The weight of the entire system pressed onto Riku’s shoulders, suffocating, crushing.
"You don’t destroy a system like this by breaking its pieces," the Headmaster said, his voice turning colder. "You have to unravel the core. But to do that…"
A pause.
Then—a whisper that sent chills through Riku’s soul.
"You have to die first."
Back in the real world, Riku gasped as the vision shattered around him.
He stumbled back from the third crystal, panting, his mind spinning.
Sable’s voice, for the first time, was deadly serious. "Riku. Whatever you saw—what did he tell you?"
Riku’s pulse pounded. "The fourth crystal… it’s not a source of power. It’s a failsafe."
Reina’s voice suddenly crackled through a broken comm sigil they had set up before Riku entered.
"Riku, get out of there. We found something—we found the fourth crystal."
Riku froze. "What?"
Kaito’s voice came next. "It’s not underground. It’s—"
Then—static.
A cold dread sank into Riku’s gut.
Then, the entire chamber collapsed inward.
The third crystal exploded—not from his attack, but from an external force.
The shockwave hurled him backward, the sigil on his arm burning violently.
Riku barely had time to register what was happening before he heard it—
A voice, calm, powerful, and impossibly close.
"Step forward, Riku Kurobane."
He looked up.
And there, standing in the middle of the collapsing chamber, was the Headmaster himself.
Far above, Reina and Kaito stood on the rooftop of Crimson High’s central tower.
At their feet, encased in a massive, pulsating sigil, was the fourth crystal—and it wasn’t what they expected.
It wasn’t made of raw energy.
It was a body.
A person, trapped inside.
And as the sigil pulsed, the person’s eyes snapped open.
A single, chilling whisper escaped their lips:
"Don’t let him wake up."
Then, the entire tower collapsed.
The world was unraveling.
The third crystal had been destroyed, but not by Riku’s hands. It had been obliterated by the Headmaster’s will.
And now—he stood before him.
A towering presence cloaked in flowing black robes, his silver mask reflecting nothing—no light, no life, only vast and infinite emptiness. The sigils around them flickered violently, reacting to the sheer authority in his presence.
The chamber groaned, the walls collapsing inward as if the very school had sensed its master’s arrival. The crimson threads that held Crimson High together twisted in the air, bending toward the Headmaster like silent, obedient servants.
Riku, still struggling to his feet, felt his breath hitch.
"I knew this was coming. But not this soon."
His sigil burned against his skin, warning him.
Sable’s voice, sharper than usual, cut through his thoughts.
“Riku. Run.”
Riku gritted his teeth, his fists tightening. "No. Not this time."
The Headmaster tilted his head slightly.
"You’re not like the others." His voice was smooth, cold. "The moment I saw you, I knew you would reach this point."
A long pause.
Then, his next words sent a shiver through Riku’s spine.
"That’s why I made sure you would fail."
Before Riku could process what that meant—the Headmaster moved.
Faster than anything Riku had ever seen.
A black blur.
A whisper of air.
Then—pain.
Riku’s body rocketed backward, a force striking his stomach so hard that he crashed through the remains of the crumbling chamber, slamming into a stone pillar.
The impact shattered the pillar on impact. Dust exploded into the air.
Riku coughed violently, blood splattering onto the cold ground.
"What—"
Then the pain registered.
His chest ached, the sigil on his arm flaring violently, trying to heal the damage. But the impact had cracked his ribs.
The Headmaster stepped forward, unhurried.
His presence alone made the air feel heavy—like Riku was standing beneath the weight of an entire world.
"Do you feel it now?" The Headmaster’s voice remained calm, his hands folded behind his back. "The difference between us?"
Riku staggered upright, wiping the blood from his lips.
Then, he smirked. "Yeah."
His sigil burned.
"But I don’t care."
A massive surge of black and crimson energy erupted from his body, twisting into spiraling tendrils.
The ground shattered beneath his feet as he lunged forward.
Meanwhile, at the top of the Central Tower…
The fourth crystal wasn’t just a crystal.
It was a person.
Trapped inside a massive, pulsating sigil, their body was suspended in mid-air—thin threads wrapped around their arms, legs, and neck like a marionette. Their eyes were open now, but they held no life—only a faint, flickering glow.
And at their feet—the sigil pulsed erratically.
Reina clenched her fists. "This… this is what the system was built around?"
Kaito wiped the sweat from his forehead, gripping his blade tightly. "Who is he?"
Before Reina could answer—they were no longer alone.
Shadows shifted behind them.
Then—a distorted voice.
"Step away from the vessel."
Reina and Kaito spun around just as three figures emerged from the darkness.
The first was a woman with long, tangled black hair, her eyes pure white, her lips stitched shut by a crimson thread.
The second was a masked figure, their body covered in glowing sigils that constantly rewrote themselves, shifting like living ink.
The third was… something else. A tall, thin being with no face, only a single floating sigil where a mouth should have been.
Kaito’s grip on his blade tightened.
"Who the hell are you?"
The woman’s stitched lips pulled apart, threads snapping, her voice emerging in a sickening whisper.
"We are the Keepers of the Final Thread."
Reina stepped forward, her crimson threads coiling around her fingertips. "If you’re here to protect this thing, then you’re in our way."
The masked figure laughed quietly, shaking their head.
"You don’t understand."
Then—the faceless one spoke.
Their voice was not a whisper, nor a shout—it was a command that bent reality itself.
"The Headmaster does not need to protect the crystal."
A pause.
Then—a chilling revelation.
"The fourth crystal is the key to unlocking his full power."
Reina’s breath caught.
"…What?"
The faceless one took a step forward. "If you destroy this crystal… you don’t weaken him. You unseal him."
Silence.
Kaito’s blood ran cold.
They weren’t stopping the system.
They were about to unleash something even worse.
Back in the crumbling chamber, Riku’s body screamed in protest.
But his power refused to let him fall.
The Headmaster barely moved, his hand flicking upward—and the entire room bent to his will.
Crimson threads lashed out, forming hundreds of razor-sharp tendrils.
Riku reacted instantly, black tendrils of his own energy bursting outward, clashing against the Headmaster’s attack.
The impact shook the entire school.
The floor split apart, the ceiling caving in as their powers collided.
But through the chaos—Riku saw something.
The Headmaster’s mask.
For just a second, the energy burst had knocked it slightly loose.
And beneath it—
Not a face.
Not a human.
But something else entirely.
Something ancient.
Something not meant to exist in this world.
Riku’s heartbeat spiked.
And the Headmaster—for the first time—reacted.
A single word, spoken with something resembling genuine amusement.
"Ah… so you saw."
Then—before Riku could react—the Headmaster moved faster than sight, his fingers reaching forward—
And grabbing Riku’s throat.
The world twisted.
The air collapsed inward.
And then—darkness.
At the top of the Central Tower, Reina and Kaito stared at the fourth crystal—at the body trapped inside, at the Keepers who stood before them, at the sigils pulsing violently beneath their feet.
Kaito’s breath was shaky. "Reina… if we break this crystal—"
Reina’s hands trembled. "We might free something worse than the pacts."
The trapped person’s eyes snapped toward them.
And for the first time, they spoke.
Their voice was not human.
It was a voice from before time itself.
"Break the seal… or be erased with it."
Then—the tower began to collapse.
Chapter 7: The Collapse of Fate & Last Thread
Darkness.
Endless. Crushing. Suffocating.
Riku’s body floated in the abyss, weightless yet unbearably heavy. His thoughts flickered like dying embers, barely clinging to reality. The last thing he remembered was the Headmaster’s hand wrapping around his throat—then the world had folded inward, swallowing him whole.
Now, there was only nothingness.
Then—a voice.
“You should have run.”
A flicker of red light.
The darkness shook as Sable’s presence coiled around Riku’s consciousness.
“Wake up, Riku.”
The abyss shattered.
His body jerked as he suddenly slammed into something solid.
Gasping, Riku’s eyes snapped open. He was no longer in the collapsing chamber.
Instead, he was somewhere else.
A vast, endless room, its walls composed entirely of threads—thousands of them, twisting and weaving together into shifting patterns, pulsing with an eerie glow. Each thread felt alive, whispering with trapped voices—pleading, begging, screaming.
Riku’s hands trembled as he pushed himself up. His body was still aching, but he was alive.
Then, he saw it.
At the center of the room—the Headmaster stood waiting.
Still shrouded in his flowing robes, his silver mask gleamed beneath the soft glow of the threads. But something about him had changed.
The aura of unstoppable, inhuman power was still there, but now it felt contained—as if he no longer needed to exert himself.
Because Riku was already caught in his trap.
“Welcome,” the Headmaster spoke, his voice even. “You are inside the Loom.”
Riku’s fists clenched. “The hell is this place?”
The Headmaster gestured to the threads surrounding them. “The core of the system. This is where every pact is made. Every soul bound. Every failure recorded.”****“You wanted to destroy the system, didn’t you?” His voice remained unnervingly calm. “Then here it is. The heart of Crimson High.”
A pulse ran through the threads, making the whispers grow louder—a chorus of suffering.
Riku’s blood ran cold.
“This isn’t just a prison.” His voice was low. “It’s a graveyard.”
The Headmaster tilted his head. “Yes.”
Then—he raised a hand.
And the threads moved.
Before Riku could react, thousands of threads lashed toward him, twisting through the air like razor wires.
His body moved on instinct.
The sigil on his arm flared, unleashing a surge of black energy, forming tendrils to block the attack.
The threads collided against his shield—then burrowed through.
Pain exploded through Riku’s body as the threads **pierced his arms, his legs, his torso—**binding him in place.
His vision blurred.
The threads weren’t just restraining him.
They were draining him.
Stealing his energy.
Riku gasped as his body grew weaker, his knees buckling.
The Headmaster watched. “Every pact feeds the Loom. Every thread strengthens it.” His silver mask reflected Riku’s struggling form. “Even you.”
The threads tightened, sinking deeper into his skin, pulling him toward the glowing mass at the center of the Loom.
Riku growled, struggling against the restraints.
“You think I’ll just let you do this?”
The Headmaster let out a small chuckle. “Oh, Riku. It’s already done.”
The Loom pulled.
And Riku felt his very soul unraveling.
Above, in the heart of Crimson High, chaos erupted.
The Central Tower trembled, its foundation cracking apart as the fourth crystal’s seal unraveled.
At the top, Reina and Kaito stood frozen as the figure trapped inside the crystal opened its eyes.
Their voice, cold and ancient, echoed.
"Break the seal… or be erased with it."
The tower shook violently, the sigils on the walls rupturing, spilling black mist into the air. The Keepers of the Final Thread stood unmoving, their hollow eyes fixed on the trapped being.
“You can’t break it!” One of the Keepers finally spoke, their voice laced with warning. “If the vessel awakens, the balance will be destroyed!”
Reina’s eyes narrowed. “The balance of what?”
The Keeper’s form wavered as the sigils around them distorted. “The balance of—”
Then, a single thread snapped.
And the world tilted.
The entire tower cracked apart, massive stone pillars collapsing as reality itself warped.
Kaito barely had time to react before a force slammed into him, knocking him off his feet.
Reina’s eyes widened. "Kaito!"
She reached for him—
But the floor shattered.
The last thing Kaito saw was the sky flipping upside down—then he was falling.
Reina barely managed to stay standing, her crimson threads latching onto a remaining piece of the tower.
But her gaze was locked on the figure in the crystal.
The threads that had bound them for centuries were now snapping, one by one.
The Keepers, for the first time, looked afraid.
"He’s waking up—" one of them whispered.
Reina gritted her teeth. "Who the hell is he?"
The final thread snapped.
And the world pulsed.
Then, the trapped being spoke once more.
"The first Pact-Holder."
Reina’s breath caught.
Before she could react—
The sigils around the crystal shattered, and a massive burst of energy erupted outward, engulfing the entire tower.
Back inside the Loom.
Riku’s body was failing.
The threads had nearly devoured him, his energy drained, his vision flickering.
But deep inside, something fought back.
A voice.
Not Sable.
Not the Headmaster.
His own.
"Get up."
The sigil on his arm flared violently.
The black markings **spread across his chest, his neck, his face—**searing through the Loom’s hold.
The Headmaster stiffened.
For the first time, his voice lost its composure.
“Impossible.”
Riku’s lips curled into a smirk.
“I don’t follow your rules.”
The Loom shuddered.
And with a final, **explosive surge of will—**Riku broke free.
Threads snapped, ruptured, and shattered.
A shockwave tore through the chamber, and the Loom began to unravel.
The Headmaster took a step back.
And Riku, now standing tall, his power surging out of control, locked eyes with him.
“Your turn.”
Deep beneath Crimson High, as the Loom fractured—
The final crystal shattered.
And far away, in the ruins of the Central Tower, the being who had been trapped opened his eyes fully.
For the first time in centuries.
And he smiled.
The world was unraveling.
The Loom, the heart of Crimson High’s twisted system, was breaking apart, its crimson threads snapping violently as energy surged through the collapsing chamber.
Riku stood tall, his sigil flaring violently, black tendrils spiraling outward, thrumming with power he hadn’t known he possessed.
Across from him, the Headmaster remained still, his silver mask tilted slightly, as if observing something curious.
"You weren’t supposed to reach this far."
His voice remained calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it now.
For the first time, Riku had done something unpredictable.
And the Headmaster didn’t like that.
"Then let’s see how far I can go." Riku’s voice was steady, even as the energy inside him roared, desperate to be unleashed.
Then—they moved.
The air shattered.
Riku and the Headmaster clashed, their powers colliding in an explosion of black and crimson energy.
The force ripped through the Loom, sending threads flying like severed veins, reality fracturing under their feet.
The Headmaster’s attacks were inhumanly precise, his every motion bending the very fabric of the Loom, warping time and space around him.
Riku dodged, barely, twisting through the onslaught as the sigil on his arm burned, his own energy responding instinctively.
A split second—an opening.
Riku’s black tendrils lashed out, aiming for the Headmaster’s core thread.
But—
He was already gone.
Behind him.
A single strike to the chest.
Riku’s breath vanished.
The impact sent him hurtling through the collapsing chamber, slamming into a web of broken threads.
Pain exploded through his ribs.
His mind flashed white.
Then, a whisper.
"You can't win this alone."
Sable’s voice, but this time, there was no taunt—only truth.
And Riku finally understood.
The sigil on Riku’s arm pulsed differently.
Not in pain.
Not in submission.
But in agreement.
For the first time, Riku accepted the pact completely.
And in that moment—something inside him snapped.
The sigil expanded, spreading across his body like black fire, consuming his veins, his skin, his very essence—but not in control.
This time, Riku was in control.
The Loom reacted violently as if rejecting him as if screaming that his existence defied the rules of the system itself.
And then—he saw it.
The Headmaster’s core thread.
It wasn’t woven into the Loom.
It wasn’t bound by Crimson High’s curse.
It was connected to something else.
Something far older.
Something that was waking up.
Far above, as the Central Tower crumbled, Reina barely held onto a ledge, her crimson threads anchoring her to a collapsing pillar.
Kaito was nowhere in sight, lost in the chaos.
And at the heart of the storm—the fourth crystal shattered.
A pulse of raw, ancient energy erupted from within, sending shockwaves through the entire school, shaking the very foundation of the pact system.
And from within the broken seal, the First Pact-Holder emerged.
He floated above the ruins, his body almost ethereal, his long white hair drifting as if untouched by gravity.
His eyes—pitch black, swirling with endless voids.
His presence alone bent reality.
The Keepers of the Final Thread dropped to their knees, their forms flickering as if unable to withstand his gaze.
And then, he spoke.
A voice that was not a voice, but a command woven into existence itself.
"I remember now."
Reina felt it instantly—this was not just another entity.
This was the being who created the first pact.
The one who had given power before the system corrupted it.
And now—he had returned.
The First Pact-Holder raised a single hand.
Threads, but not crimson—golden, shimmering with raw creation energy—snaked through the ruins, severing the last remaining sigils of the old pacts.
And in that instant—every pact in Crimson High flickered.
Riku’s sigil burned violently, his power spiking uncontrollably.
The Headmaster’s mask cracked slightly, a thin fracture forming.
And then, the truth hit.
The First Pact-Holder was not a prisoner.
He was a failsafe.
The system had not trapped him.
The system had been built to keep him contained.
And now, he was free.
Reina’s blood ran cold.
“What… have we done?”
The First Pact-Holder’s gaze shifted to her.
And he smiled.
"You gave me back what was stolen. Now, let me show you the price."
Then—he disappeared.
A blink.
Gone.
And Reina knew exactly where he was going.
To the Loom.
To Riku.
To the Headmaster.
To finish what had begun centuries ago.
The battle inside the Loom had reached its breaking point.
Riku, now wielding power that defied the system, launched forward again, his black and crimson energy surging around him.
The Headmaster raised a hand, his own threads warping space itself, creating an impossible web of defense.
And then—everything stopped.
A presence entered the Loom.
Both Riku and the Headmaster turned.
And there, standing at the entrance of the unraveling chamber—
The First Pact-Holder.
For the first time, Riku saw fear flicker in the Headmaster’s stance.
The silver-masked man took a single step back.
And the First Pact-Holder smiled.
"So, you’re the one who stole my system."
A pause.
Then, in a whisper that shattered the very fabric of the Loom:
"I’ve come to take it back."
Deep beneath the ruins of Crimson High, the last remaining crystal, hidden far beyond where even the faculty could reach, began to crack.
A single, ancient voice—neither human nor demon, but something beyond comprehension—spoke from within it.
"This world was built on stolen power. And now, the thief must be punished."
Then—everything shattered.
Chapter 8: The Birth of a New Fate
The Loom was breaking.
The threads that bound the world of Crimson High together trembled, vibrating with an energy that had not existed for centuries.
At the center of it all, three figures stood within the collapsing chamber—
The Headmaster, the ruler of this system, his silver mask cracked, his aura warping violently.
Riku, now wielding power that defied the system itself, his sigil burning uncontrollably.
And the First Pact-Holder, the ancient being who had once created the first pact, was now freed from his imprisonment.
For the first time in centuries, the Headmaster took a step back.
And the First Pact-Holder smiled.
"So… you're the thief."
The air split open as the First Pact-Holder raised his hand, golden threads forming behind him, spiraling like a celestial storm.
The Headmaster reacted instantly, his own crimson threads twisting, forming an elaborate shield—but it was too slow.
BOOM.
The attack landed before reality could catch up.
A pulse of golden energy ripped through the chamber, sending Riku stumbling backward as the Headmaster was hurled through the collapsing threads.
The Loom screamed.
The entire world flickered, the school shaking violently.
The First Pact-Holder stepped forward, his voice calm, almost amused.
"You thought you could steal my system and make it your own?"
The Headmaster regained his footing, crimson energy crackling around him. His mask was fractured—revealing glimpses of something inhuman beneath.
"I didn’t steal your system," the Headmaster murmured. "I perfected it."
The First Pact-Holder chuckled. "Then let’s see how perfect it is when I take it apart thread by thread."
They clashed.
The battle exploded.
Golden and crimson energy collided, shaking the very fabric of the Loom, sending ripples of power across Crimson High.
The Headmaster’s mask shattered completely.
And what lay beneath wasn’t human.
Riku’s breath caught.
The First Pact-Holder froze.
The Headmaster’s face was made of threads.
No skin. No flesh. No bone.
Just thousands of shifting, living threads, constantly unraveling and reforming, weaving new expressions, changing, twisting.
"You…," the First Pact-Holder whispered. "You’re not a person at all."
The Headmaster smiled—or at least, his face wove itself into a smile.
"I was once."
He lunged.
The First Pact-Holder barely dodged, golden threads forming a barrier as the Headmaster’s form twisted unnaturally, striking from impossible angles.
His voice echoed strangely now, layered, overlapping.
"I was the first who tried to break the system."
The golden threads shattered, and the First Pact-Holder was forced back.
"I was the first… who lost."
Riku had no time to process what he had just seen.
Because as the two titans fought—the Loom itself reacted.
The threads around him tightened, pulsing with a dark, rhythmic energy.
A whisper brushed against his ear.
Not Sable.
Not the First Pact-Holder.
Something else.
"You are not supposed to be here."
Riku spun around—and saw it.
A door at the center of the Loom.
A door that hadn’t been there before.
It pulsed with black and crimson energy, sealed shut by an unfathomable power.
His sigil reacted instantly, burning with raw agony.
"That’s it," Sable’s voice whispered. "The core of the system. The real one."
Riku’s heart pounded.
"If I open this door… will I end everything?"
Sable hesitated.
Then—for the first time, he sounded unsure.
"Or you might see something you were never meant to see."
The battle between the Headmaster and the First Pact-Holder raged behind him, shaking the Loom apart.
But Riku knew.
This was the real fight.
His hands trembled as he reached for the door, the sigil on his arm reacting violently, flickering between control and chaos.
He placed his palm against it.
And the door began to open.
The Loom convulsed as a massive surge of power erupted outward—
And suddenly, Riku was somewhere else.
The Loom was gone.
Instead—he stood in a world of nothingness.
Threads stretched infinitely in every direction, untouched by time.
And at the center—a single figure sat waiting.
Not the First Pact-Holder.
Not the Headmaster.
Someone older.
Someone who had existed before the concept of pacts had even been born.
They looked up.
And smiled.
"You made it further than I expected, Riku Kurobane."
Riku’s blood turned ice-cold.
"Who… are you?"
The figure tilted their head.
"The one who made the first thread."
The creator of the concept of pacts.
Not just of Crimson High.
Of everything.
The voice was quiet but filled with undeniable truth.
"And I am here to offer you a choice."
Behind him, the battle between the First Pact-Holder and the Headmaster raged on, their powers threatening to rip existence apart.
But here, in this timeless space, nothing mattered.
Only the choice.
The being’s threads coiled around them like cosmic laws, interwoven into the fabric of reality itself.
"You can end the system, Riku."
"You can cut the final thread."
**"But if you do—**everything that has ever been built from it vanishes."
Riku’s breath shook.
"And if I don’t?"
The being smiled.
"Then you take my place."
"You become the new weaver of fate."
A long silence.
The weight of everything pressed down on him.
The First Pact-Holder and the Headmaster continued their battle outside.
But Riku—he had to decide.
Erase it all.
Or become the one who binds fate forever.
A choice that had never been given to anyone before.
A choice that should never have existed.
And Riku…
Riku had to choose.
The Loom was collapsing.
The battle between the First Pact-Holder and the Headmaster raged on, tearing through the very fabric of existence. Threads of creation and destruction clashed, each strike shaking the foundation of Crimson High.
But Riku…
Riku was no longer there.
He stood in the Void Beyond Time, facing something older than the system itself—the Weaver of the First Thread.
And he had been given a choice.
To erase everything…
Or to become the master of fate itself.
And Riku—he chose to become master.
Back in the Loom, the Headmaster’s form flickered, his shifting thread-like body unraveling, yet somehow holding itself together through sheer will.
The First Pact Holder’s golden threads burned brightly, radiating a power that had not existed in the world for centuries. He raised a hand, reality-bending around him, preparing to strike the final blow.
But then—
Something changed.
A pulse of power erupted from the core of the Loom.
The First Pact-Holder stumbled mid-attack, his expression shifting from confidence to shock.
The Headmaster, who had been struggling, suddenly stopped resisting.
He laughed.
“You didn’t see it, did you?”
The First Pact-Holder narrowed his eyes. “What?”
The Headmaster’s body stabilized, his threads no longer unraveling. Instead, they began absorbing the Loom’s collapsing energy—a power source no one had ever dared to touch.
And then—the impossible happened.
The Headmaster changed.
His body no longer flickered like unstable threads.
His form solidified.
His power multiplied.
And the Loom itself began to bow to him.
The First Pact-Holder’s golden eyes widened.
“…You weren’t fighting to control the system."
The Headmaster’s smile widened.
"I was fighting to become something greater than it."
Then—he struck back.
A shockwave of pure power erupted from his form, sending the First Pact-Holder crashing through layers of the Loom, ripping apart everything in his path.
For the first time, the First Pact-Holder was losing.
And the Headmaster—he was winning.
Far beyond the battle, in the realm of timeless threads, Riku felt his body changing.
The moment he chose to become master of fate, the ancient being before him began to unravel.
The threads that had once bound reality twisted around Riku, spiraling into his soul, his very existence.
For a moment—he felt everything.
Every thread. Every pact. Every connection between past, present, and future.
He was no longer just Riku Kurobane.
He was the new Weaver.
But then—he saw something terrifying.
The system wasn’t built on balance.
It was built to contain something.
And now, with his ascension…
That something had awakened.
The Loom convulsed violently, as if rejecting the presence of two rulers at once.
The First Pact-Holder recovered from the Headmaster’s strike, his golden threads flaring wildly, but his expression was no longer one of confidence—it was pure fear.
"No… no, this isn’t how it was supposed to happen!"
The Headmaster’s form, now godlike, warped the very structure of existence, twisting the last remaining pacts into himself.
But something else was coming.
Riku felt it before he saw it.
A presence older than all of them.
Something that had been sealed away long before the First Pact-Holder ever created the system.
And it was waking up.
Because there had never meant to be two Masters.
The Loom screamed.
And from its deepest depths, a third entity emerged.
It had no face.
No voice.
Only an endless void, swallowing everything in its path.
The Original Thread.
The thing that had been bound when pacts were first created.
And it was hungry.
Riku staggered, his body still adjusting to his new power, as the Original Thread stretched toward him.
Sable’s voice whispered in his mind, sharp and urgent.
"Riku. If you don’t control it, it’ll consume you."
The First Pact-Holder whirled toward him, golden energy crackling.
"You have to destroy it!"
The Headmaster, still absorbing the Loom’s energy, only smiled.
"No," he said softly. "He has to make a pact with it."
Riku’s eyes widened.
The Original Thread coiled around him, pressing into his soul. It wasn’t just power.
It was existence itself.
The source of all pacts, all fate, all choice.
If he fused with it, he would not just be master of the Loom.
He would be master of everything.
But if he failed—
He would cease to exist.
No reincarnation. No second chances.
Just erasure.
And Riku Kurobane had to decide.
The First Pact-Holder charged forward, his golden blade raised.
The Headmaster raised his hand, threads of dominion wrapping around him.
And Riku—
Riku closed his eyes.
And he let the Original Thread in.
The moment their energies merged, reality snapped.
The Loom exploded.
The world fractured.
And then—everything stopped.
Silence.
Nothingness.
Then—
A single heartbeat.
And Riku opened his eyes.
The battle has changed. Riku is no longer fighting against the system—he is the system now. The Headmaster has ascended beyond his limits, fusing with the Loom’s remaining power. The First Pact-Holder, once the strongest, is now the weakest in this fight. And the true threat—the Original Thread—has fused with Riku, making him something more than mortal. As the Loom reconstructed itself around them, the new Riku Kurobane stepped forward, his body no longer bound by human limitations.
The Headmaster chuckled, his gaze appraising.
"Ah. So you really did it."
The First Pact-Holder, breathing heavily, stared in horror.
"You fool. You weren’t supposed to become it."
Riku tilted his head.
And smiled.
"Who said I became anything?"
Then, he raised his hand—
And reached for the final thread.
To cut it.
Or to weave something new.
To Be Continued...
Chapter 5: The Headmaster’s Game:
https://storylinespectrum.blogspot.com/2025/03/chapter-5-headmasters-game-supernatural.html
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