The Rift felt like a wound—painful, raw, and unhealing—stretching its tendrils into Sam's very soul. Every breath he took was labored, every pulse a reminder of the darkness that sought to overtake him. The world around him was a distorted reflection, flickering like a broken mirror. Shapes moved in the periphery of his vision, their forms blurring in and out of existence, their voices distant and distorted.
He tried to stand, but his limbs felt like they were made of stone, too heavy to move. The energy of the Rift pulsed beneath his skin, his Echoform a tempest of force that thrashed inside him, threatening to tear him apart.
But then—there was a presence.
It was soft at first, like a whisper in the wind. But it grew louder, closer, until Sam could feel it all around him. He wasn't alone. He could sense something—or someone—standing at the edge of his consciousness, watching him, waiting.
"You're still here," Sam whispered to himself, his voice hoarse, as if the words were being dragged from the depths of his soul.
A figure materialized before him, its outline flickering like a mirage. Sam blinked, his eyes struggling to focus, and then it became clearer. It was him. Or, at least, a version of him. But it wasn't the Sam he knew.
This version was darker, his eyes hollow and empty, his expression cold and detached. His clothes were tattered, his form less human than the Sam Sam had been before. The Rift's influence was written all over him—the twisted energy radiating from his body, warping his features.
"Who are you?" Sam's voice trembled as he asked the question, though deep down, he already knew the answer.
The figure didn't respond immediately. Instead, it tilted its head, studying him with a twisted, knowing smile.
"You know who I am," the dark Sam said, his voice echoing with the eerie calm of someone who had seen everything and understood nothing. "I am what you will become. I am what the Rift makes of you. I am the version of you who accepted what the Rift offers."
Sam took a step back, but his legs gave way, and he fell to his knees. "No," he gasped, his chest tightening with the weight of realization. "I won't let it happen. I won't become you."
The dark version of Sam chuckled, a low, hollow sound. "You think you have a choice? You're already mine. You always have been."
The words hung in the air like a poison, sinking deep into Sam's heart. He tried to summon the strength to fight back, but it was as though his very will was being drained, the Rift's power seeping into his veins, claiming him piece by piece.
"You're lying," Sam spat, his voice rough. "I won't let it consume me."
But the dark Sam stepped closer, his eyes glowing with an unnatural light, his expression unreadable. "You're not the one in control here, Sam. You never were. The Rift chooses who survives. And it's chosen you."
With that, the figure reached out and placed a hand on Sam's forehead. The moment the touch made contact, a surge of energy shot through Sam's body, a violent pulse that rattled his bones. The vision before him fractured, warping like a shattered reflection in a broken mirror.
"Sam!" a voice cried out, snapping him from the grip of the Rift's influence.
[Back at Intramuros HQ]
Rael and Valencia were still at his side, holding him up as his body convulsed, shaking from the force of the energy that had taken hold of him. His eyes were wild, unfocused, the echoes of the Rift still resonating within him. It was clear that he was no longer fully in control of his own mind.
"Sam!" Rael shouted again, his voice desperate as he gripped Sam's shoulders, trying to ground him. "You need to fight it. Don't let the Rift take you!"
Valencia stepped closer, her expression filled with both fear and determination. She placed a hand on Sam's arm, her grip strong. "Sam, please. You're not alone. We're here. We've always been here."
For a moment, Sam's vision cleared. He could hear them, their voices cutting through the chaos in his mind. It was enough to anchor him, enough to remind him of what he was fighting for.
His body trembled violently as the Echoform surged again, his limbs burning with the strain of holding it back. But Sam fought with everything he had—against the Rift, against the darkness that sought to consume him, and against the twisted version of himself that haunted him.
"Rael," Sam gasped, his voice barely a whisper. "I—I can't… I can't control it."
Rael's expression softened, his hand tightening on Sam's arm. "You're stronger than this. You've always been stronger."
Sam's chest heaved with shallow breaths as he fought to stay conscious. The Rift's energy pulsed around him, but it was no longer all-consuming. The presence of his friends—Rael and Valencia—was like a tether, pulling him back from the brink.
"You've got this," Valencia added, her voice fierce. "You're not alone. We'll fight this together."
And that was when Sam felt it—the familiar surge of his Resonance, the energy of his ancestors, their spirits connecting with his own. Lapu-Lapu. Bonifacio. All of them. Their power surged within him, a fierce, righteous force that pushed back against the Rift's influence.
With a shout, Sam released the energy, a burst of pure light tearing through his body. The Rift recoiled, its grip loosening as the power of the Resonance clashed with the dark force trying to consume him.
But just as he thought he was free, a voice—cold, cruel, and unyielding—echoed in his mind.
"You cannot escape."
[Elsewhere – Court HQ, The Architect's Chamber]
The Architect stood motionless, watching the ripples of the Rift as they spread across the fabric of reality. Sam's struggle had just begun, and the Rift would make sure that it was the most agonizing path to freedom.
"Send in the Chain Monks," the Architect ordered, his voice calm, but with an edge of cold finality. "It's time to sever their last connection to the past. Let the war truly begin."
The Shadowed Director, standing by his side, nodded in agreement, her face unreadable. "The Resonance will be ours," she murmured, her voice tinged with both anticipation and malice.
The Architect watched as the first of the Chain Monks appeared, their forms shrouded in anti-light, their weapons glowing with dark energy.
Back at the Rift, Sam's struggle continued as the presence in his mind pressed closer, suffocating him. The light of his Resonance flickered, a final attempt to fight back against the overwhelming force that sought to swallow him whole.
But then, a whisper echoed in his mind—a promise.
"You cannot escape... not yet."
And with that, the Rift's hold tightened again, dragging him deeper into its abyss.