It felt like a test. Like she wanted to gauge something from his reaction, perhaps to gauge his tolerance compared to others, or maybe to see how someone who controlled Error responded to such blatant spatial manipulation.

Finn met her gaze for a moment, then walked forward without hesitation.

The sensation hit him like a freight train.

He'd expected the smooth, almost seamless movement he'd experienced with Chaos Breaches in his future timeline. Or even the more turbulent experience of passing through a world tear, at the very extreme.

This was nothing like that.

This was rough. Raw. Like being grabbed by invisible hands and forcibly twisted through a space too small for his body, then spat out on the other side.

His stomach lurched. His vision went white for a split second.

But years of combat training and desperate survival kept him upright. When his vision cleared, he was standing on solid ground, swaying slightly but on his feet.

He shook his head to clear the disorientation just as Thalia stepped through behind him, walking through the portal as if it were a doorway, completely unbothered.

She looked at him with genuine surprise in her eyes.

"You're standing," she said. "Most people vomit on their first transit. Some collapse entirely."

Finn blinked the last of the spots from his vision. "It was... unpleasant."

"But you stayed upright." Thalia studied him with renewed interest. "Your Error must have helped stabilize you somehow. Fascinating."

Before Finn could respond and correct her, another voice spoke from his front.

"So this is the new guy?"

Finn's gaze snapped forward.

Four people stood in what appeared to be a large circular chamber. The walls were smooth stone, inscribed with exquisite-looking artifacts that separately, seemed to have their own function, but all-together, worked as a unit with a specific purpose he didn't know yet, pulsing faintly with mana.

The ceiling arched high overhead, and several doorways led off into darkness.

But Finn's attention was on the people.

The first was a boy. Short, young-looking, with snow-white hair and features so exquisitely beautiful they seemed almost unreal. His eyes were bright and sharp, studying Finn with unconcealed interest.

The Space holder, Finn identified immediately.

There was no doubt about it. The boy looked remarkably similar to Egon Callahan from Finn's future timeline.

A pattern was emerging. Fragment bearers in the future seemed to share physical characteristics with their concept's original holder.

But I don't look like my future self, Finn thought with a flicker of confusion surfacing. Why am I the exception?

It raised uncomfortable questions he didn't have time to process, so he forced his focus to the next person — or rather, the next person drew his gaze like a magnet.

​Finn literally had to clamp down on his expression, fighting to keep the recognition from showing on his face.

Beside the Space Holder was a young man with golden eyes and blonde hair. Staring at Finn like he wanted to bore holes through him, to see directly into his soul.

Priest.

The Truth holder.

This wasn't just mere similarity. This was practically identical. The same golden eyes that seemed to glow with inner light. The same blonde hair. The same unsettling intensity.

Finn's brief experience with Priest in his future timeline had left him deeply uncomfortable, always feeling exposed, like the man could see through every lie and evasion.

And now here was the original.

Finn deliberately didn't let his gaze linger. He only took the young man in with a passing glance, as if he were no more interesting than anyone else in the room.

The last two were women, standing on either side of the Space holder. Finn had never seen or heard of them before. Complete unknowns.

One was tall and lean, with dark skin and hair woven with what looked like small metal charms. Her eyes were amber, almost feline in their intensity.

The other was shorter, with copper-red hair and a face full of freckles. She looked younger than the others, maybe late teens, and her expression was openly hostile.

"Yes," Thalia said, walking up beside Finn. "This is Arros. Our newest member."

The golden-eyed man — the Truth holder — stepped forward with an easy smile.

"So you're the one who caused such a stir," he said with a warm voice, friendly even. But those eyes...

"Welcome. I'm sure we'll all get along wonderfully."

Finn opened his mouth to respond. He knew that with the Truth-Bearer, he had to get off on the right foot without drawing suspicion. So far, the young man sat firmly at the top of Finn's list of people to be wary of.

But the red-haired girl snorted before he could speak.

"Doesn't look like much," she said dismissively, crossing her arms. "So what's your power?"

Finn kept his expression neutral and continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"I wanted to ask—"

"It's courtesy to answer when someone asks you a question," the Truth holder said, that warm smile never wavering. But something in his tone had sharpened. "Don't you think?"

Ah.

Finn recognized this for what it was immediately. A power play. They were testing him, trying to see where he fit in their hierarchy. How he responded would determine how they treated him going forward.

And while he genuinely didn't care about their internal pecking order, he also knew this was his only chance to set boundaries. To make it clear he wasn't someone they could push around at will.

He looked directly at the red-haired girl.

"I heard the question," he said flatly. "I just deemed it discourteous. You asked like I was your subordinate and expected me to answer just like that?"

The girl's eyes widened, then narrowed. She stood up from where she'd been leaning against the wall, anger flashing across her face.

"How dare you—"

"Lyris," the Space holder said, cutting her off calmly.

The girl — Lyris — stopped mid-sentence, though she continued glaring at Finn.

The Space holder stepped forward, and Finn felt something in the air shift.

The boy's expression was pleasant enough. Almost friendly. But there was something underneath it — a deep, fundamental narcissism that seemed woven into his very being.

Not the sharp-edged, try-hard kind that needed constant validation.

No, this was different. More like he simply, naturally, fundamentally saw everything as beneath him. As if hierarchy wasn't something he needed to establish, it just existed, with him at the apex, and everyone else arrayed below.

"Arros," the boy said, his voice smooth and cultured. "I am Casmir. And Lyris does have a point, you know. We're all sharing this space together. Getting to know each other's capabilities seems... prudent."

The words were reasonable. The tone was polite.

But the underlying message was clear: Answer the question.

Finn rubbed his face with both hands and let out a long exhale that conveyed pure exasperation.

"It's your tone…"

The white-haired boy raised a brow.

Finn continued, looking directly at Casmir. "What's with that tone? Asking questions like you're a king or something."

The chamber went silent.

Finn gestured at the boy's small frame.

"You're what, twelve? Thirteen? How old are you anyway, boy?"

For a heartbeat, nobody moved.

Then the temperature in the room seemed to plummet.

Casmir's pleasant expression didn't change, but something in his eyes went absolutely frigid. The air itself began to warp subtly around him, space bending in ways that made Finn's Error sense scream warnings.

​"Arros—" Thalia tried to warn Finn, seeing what he was doing, but the Truth holder was already stepping forward, hands raised. "Everyone, let's just—"

​It was too late. Finn had hit a sore spot, and Casmir was already moving, folding and distorting space around himself like a fabric.

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