Cursed Causality

The wasteland was a graveyard of timelines, its jagged edges bleeding into one another like a wound that refused to heal. Kael walked ahead, his boots crunching over shards of glass that reflected a thousand broken skies. The air tasted of ozone and ash, the remnants of the Clockwork Labyrinth still clinging to him like a second skin. His withered arm hung limp at his side, the black ichor from the stump dried to a crust. He didn't need it. He didn't need much of anything anymore.

Lysandra trailed behind him, her silver-threaded eyes scanning the horizon. She was quiet, too quiet, and it grated on him.

"Spit it out," he said without turning.

"Spit what out?" she replied, her voice flat.

"Whatever's eating at you. You've been brooding since we left the Labyrinth."

She stopped, her threads flickering faintly in the dim light. "Maybe I'm wondering why you didn't stop me when I offered myself to the Serpent."

Kael smirked, the expression sharp and cruel. "Would you have listened if I did?"

She didn't answer. He didn't expect her to.

---

The Serpent's remains were scattered across the wasteland, its golden-black scales dissolving into the ground like acid. The creature had been a manifestation of the Tapestry's will, a force of balance meant to purge the infection—*her*. But Lysandra had done the impossible. She'd consumed it, absorbed its power, and now the Tapestry's fear was palpable, a low hum that vibrated through the air.

Kael could feel it too, a faint tremor in his chest where the demonic fire had once burned. It was gone now, extinguished by the Labyrinth's collapse, but the emptiness it left behind was worse. He'd made a bargain with a demon for that power, traded a piece of his soul for it, and now he was… less.

He hated it.

---

The Spire loomed in the distance, its jagged silhouette cutting through the fractured sky. It was the Tapestry's heart, its true core, and it pulsed with a faint, golden light that made Kael's skin crawl. He could feel its pull, a magnetic force drawing him closer, and he knew it wasn't just the Tapestry calling him.

It was *her*.

"We're not ready for this," Lysandra said, her voice breaking the silence.

Kael laughed, the sound harsh and grating. "When have we ever been ready?"

She stepped in front of him, her threads coiling like serpents. "This isn't a joke, Kael. The Spire isn't just a place. It's a *test*. It'll force us to confront our pasts, our regrets. It'll tear us apart."

He leaned in, his smirk widening. "Then I guess it's a good thing I don't have any regrets."

She didn't flinch. "Everyone has regrets. Even you."

He held her gaze for a moment, then pushed past her. "Keep telling yourself that, girl."

---

The Spire's entrance was a gaping maw, its walls etched with serpentine patterns that seemed to writhe in the dim light. The air inside was cold, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and stayed there. Kael stepped inside, his dagger already in hand, and Lysandra followed, her threads flickering uneasily.

The first chamber was a maze of mirrors, their surfaces reflecting not their current forms, but their pasts. Kael's reflection showed him kneeling at the Shattered Spire's altar, a younger girl's hand in his. Her face was blurred, but he knew who she was.

*Elyra.*

"Don't look," Lysandra warned, her voice tight.

He ignored her, stepping closer to the mirror. The reflection shifted, the girl's face coming into focus. It wasn't Elyra.

It was Lysandra.

"You *remember*," the mirror whispered, its voice a cruel mimicry of his own.

He shattered it with his dagger, the glass raining down around him. "Fuck off."

---

The second chamber was worse.

It was a gauntlet of sound, each step triggering a new torment:

A child's laughter (Elyra, before the plague took her).

The demon's voice (his first bargain, slick and sweet as poison).

Lysandra's scream (when he'd left her to die in the Scab).

He clenched his teeth, the memories clawing at him like rats. He didn't regret them. He *couldn't*. Regret was a weakness, and weakness got you killed.

Lysandra's threads lashed out, severing the sound at its source. "Move," she said, her voice strained. "Before it gets worse."

---

The third chamber was the heart of the Spire.

It was a vast, circular room, its walls lined with doors that pulsed like living things. At its center stood a figure, their back turned, their form shrouded in gray robes.

Kael's grip tightened on his dagger. "Who the hell are you?"

The figure turned, revealing a face that made his blood run cold.

It was *him*.

---

The doppelgänger smiled, its expression a perfect mirror of Kael's own cruelty. "I'm what you could've been," it said, its voice dripping with malice. "If you hadn't made that first bargain. If you hadn't sold your soul."

Kael lunged, his dagger aimed at the doppelgänger's throat. It caught his wrist with ease, its grip like iron.

"You're weak," it hissed. "You've always been weak. That's why you needed the demon. That's why you needed *her*."

He snarled, driving his knee into its stomach. It didn't flinch.

"You think you're ruthless?" it taunted. "You think you're evil? You're nothing but a scared little boy, clinging to power because you're afraid of being powerless."

Lysandra's threads lashed out, severing the doppelgänger's arm. It laughed, the sound echoing through the chamber.

"You can't kill me," it said, its form dissolving into smoke. "I'm you."

---

The doors around the chamber began to open, each one revealing a new nightmare:

A plague ward, filled with the dead and dying.

The Shattered Spire, its altar stained with blood.

The Scab, its hunters closing in.

Lysandra grabbed Kael's arm, her threads coiling around him. "We need to go. Now."

He shook her off, his eyes blazing with fury. "I'm not running."

"You're not winning either," she snapped. "This is what the Spire does. It breaks you. It turns you against yourself."

He turned to her, his smirk returning. "Then I guess it's a good thing I'm already broken."

---

The ground beneath them began to crack, the Spire's walls collapsing inward. Lysandra's threads lashed out, carving a path through the chaos, but Kael didn't follow.

He stood at the edge of the abyss, staring into the void.

"Kael!" Lysandra shouted, her voice barely audible over the Spire's roar.

He didn't look back.

---

The void called to him, its whispers a siren song of power and pain. He could feel it, the Tapestry's fear, its desperation. It was afraid of him. Afraid of what he could become.

And he liked it.

He stepped into the void, the darkness swallowing him whole.

---

Lysandra's scream echoed through the Spire, but it was too late.

Kael was gone.

__

The void was not empty.

It was alive, a writhing mass of golden-black threads that pulsed with the rhythm of a dying heart. Kael floated in its depths, the darkness pressing against him like a second skin. He could feel it—the Tapestry's essence, its fear, its rage. It was everywhere and nowhere, a presence that defied comprehension.

And it was afraid of *him*.

He smiled, the expression sharp and predatory. "You brought me here," he said, his voice cutting through the silence. "Big mistake."

The threads recoiled, their glow dimming as if in response. He reached out, his fingers brushing against one, and it shattered like glass. The void trembled, a low hum building in the distance.

"You think you can break me?" he taunted, his voice rising. "You think you can *control* me?"

The hum grew louder, the threads converging into a single, massive form. It was the Serpent again, its golden-black eyes burning with hatred.

"*You are the infection,*" it hissed, its voice a chorus of a thousand timelines. "*You must be purged.*"

Kael laughed, the sound harsh and grating. "Try it."

---

The Serpent lunged, its maw opening wide, but Kael was ready. He dodged, his movements fluid despite the void's oppressive weight. His dagger flashed, slicing through the threads that made up the creature's body. They dissolved into smoke, but more took their place, the Serpent reforming almost instantly.

"You can't win," it snarled, its voice echoing through the void. "You're nothing but a fragment, a broken piece of a broken world."

Kael's smirk widened. "Then I guess it's a good thing I like breaking things."

He lunged, driving his dagger into the Serpent's eye. It screamed, the sound reverberating through the void, and for a moment, he thought he'd won.

But the Serpent wasn't done.

Its body unraveled, the threads wrapping around him like chains. He struggled, but they were too strong, their grip tightening with every movement.

"*You are weak,*" the Serpent hissed, its voice dripping with malice. "*You always have been.*"

Kael's vision blurred, the void pressing in on him from all sides. He could feel it—the Tapestry's power, its will—trying to consume him, to erase him from existence.

But he wasn't going down without a fight.

---

He reached deep, past the emptiness where the demonic fire had once burned, past the regrets and the pain, to the core of who he was.

And he found it.

A spark.

It was small, barely a flicker, but it was enough.

He fed it, pouring every ounce of his rage, his hatred, his *will* into it. The spark grew, burning brighter and brighter until it was a flame, a fire that consumed everything in its path.

The threads holding him dissolved, the Serpent's form unraveling as the fire spread. It screamed, its voice a cacophony of pain and fear, but Kael didn't stop.

He couldn't.

---

The void erupted in light, the Tapestry's essence shattering like glass. Kael stood at the center of it all, the fire burning in his chest, his dagger gleaming in his hand.

The Serpent was gone, its form reduced to ash, but the void remained.

And it was his.

---

When he opened his eyes, he was back in the Spire.

Lysandra stood a few feet away, her threads coiled around her like a shield. Her silver-threaded eyes widened as she saw him, the fire burning in his chest reflected in her gaze.

"What did you do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, the expression sharp and cruel. "What I had to."

---

The Spire trembled, its walls cracking as the void's power surged through it. Lysandra's threads lashed out, carving a path through the chaos, but Kael didn't follow.

He stood at the edge of the abyss, staring into the void.

"Kael!" Lysandra shouted, her voice barely audible over the Spire's roar.

He didn't look back.

---

The void called to him, its whispers a siren song of power and pain. He could feel it—the Tapestry's fear, its desperation. It was afraid of him. Afraid of what he could become.

And he liked it.

He stepped into the void, the darkness swallowing him whole.

---

Lysandra's scream echoed through the Spire, but it was too late.

Kael was gone.

---