Location: Yxtrielle – Subsurface Vault Theta-9, "Heartroot Scar"
Time: [Post-Va'theran Retreat – Aetherium Core Sync: 73.2%]
Ren was finally alone.
Not emotionally — no, that ship sank the moment Blaze joined his headspace.
But physically?
He was deep underground, beneath the shattered surface of Yxtrielle, in a half-buried vault chamber that looked like a Drift-era tech lab had been violated by a cathedral and a graveyard at the same time.
Three blades floated in front of him:
Threadbreaker (now forged into his soul) The Riftblade (dormant, twitching like it wanted to insult him) Vey'stryx (snapping at literal ghosts)
VEY'STRYX (yelling):
"IF THAT BASTARD SAYS ONE MORE THING IN THAT WHISPERY FAKE-WISDOM TONE I WILL TURN THIS FUSION INTO A DIVORCE!"
RIFTBLADE (coldly):
"Your emotional output is unrefined. Typical of an auxiliary construct forged during a nervous breakdown."
VEY'STRYX:
"OH I'LL SHOW YOU AUXILIARY, YOU TIMELINE-DELETING STICK!"
Ren just stared.
"…I don't know what's happening, but this is either the dumbest dream I've ever had or I've been recruited into a shitty magical sitcom."
Then the blades pulsed.
A ripple of light and resonance spread through the chamber, forming a triangle of memory-threads — one from each weapon — converging.
The fusion didn't explode.
It hummed.
It cracked.
And then…
SYSTEM LOG — YOU DID A THING (KINDA)
🔁 Initiating Multi-Blade Core Merge…
✨ Weapon Class: UNKNOWN (That's how you know it's badass)
🎤 Voice Personality Selected: "Default - Vey'stryx's Hot-Mess Mode"
🧠 Memory Inheritance: Riftblade complete
✅ Integration Successful
🎉 CONGRATS, DUMBASS. YOU MADE A TALKING, SHAPESHIFTING, GLYPH-EATING DEITY-SWORD.
The blade floated in front of him, now whole — jagged and sleek at once, rippling with timeline threads and glowing with anti-memory light.
Then it spoke.
??? (in Vey'stryx's tone, but calmer):
"…I have many voices. I have many memories. I have slaughtered timelines and sung to children."
Beat.
"…What's my name?"
Ren blinked.
"What?"
SWORD (genuinely curious):
"I was Vey'stryx.
I was Riftblade.
I was Threadbreaker.
But I've got zero fucking clue what to call myself now."
SWORD (deadpan):
"Unless you want to name me 'Pointy.' I swear to Kael if you name me Pointy I will pierce your appendix in your sleep."
Before Ren could answer, someone—or rather something—burst in, uninvited and unapologetic.
BLAZE (shouting into his head):
"OH MY GOD JUST NAME IT 'FIREBUTT' AND LET'S MOVE ON!"
FROST (immediately):
"Please, no. Absolutely not. I'm still recovering from the last name you gave your summons. One of them still thinks it's called 'Stabby.'"
SPACE (stretching syllables like a bored god):
"Orrrr... hear me out... what if we name it Emptiness-Slash-Despair-420, because branding is important, Ren."
TIME (snickering):
"Honestly, I vote for 'Daddy Blade.' It's got presence. Swagger. Trauma. You know. You."
GRAVITY (dead serious):
"Name it 'Finality.' Or 'Oblivion Incarnate.' Or just call it 'The Blade.' Names are pointless. All blades serve collapse."
SWORD (snapping):
"Okay, edgy. Chill. I'm not a nihilist butter knife. And you—"
(points metaphorically at Time)
"Daddy Blade? Really?"
REN (rubbing his temples):
"You are all—so violently unhelpful."
AETHERIUM CORE (interrupting politely with code):
> SYSTEM NOTICE: YOUR BRAIN IS NOW A GROUP CHAT > PARTICIPANTS: YOU, FIVE UNHINGED CONCEPTUAL FRAGMENTS, ONE SCHIZOPHRENIC SWORD > RECOMMENDED ACTION: SCHEDULE THERAPY > OR THROW EVERYONE INTO A BLACK HOLE – YOUR CALL
SWORD (dryly):
"Honestly? I vote black hole."
REN (groaning):
"Okay. New rule. No one names anything except me from now on."
He took a breath.
The sword shimmered midair, shifting form again — to a hammer, to a spear, to a comically oversized boomerang — before settling back into a thin, elegant longblade.
Waiting.
Expectant.
Possibly judging.
And Ren?
Ren just stared at it.
And said:
"…You know what? We're gonna sit with this."
SWORD (confused):
"You're not naming me?"
REN (walking away):
"You're lucky I don't name you 'Spanky.'"
SWORD (scandalized):
"RUDE."