Chapter 221: Chapter 221: Shatterpoint
The graveyard of titans did not stay silent for long.
Lin’s scream of defiance still echoed through the abyss when the bones beneath his feet began to quake. A soundless tremor rolled outward, and the fossilized giants that had slept for millennia stirred as if their rest had been disturbed. Dust and fragments of marrow rained from ribcages the size of towers. Vertebrae shifted like tectonic plates.
The throne of chains pulsed.
The figure swathed in links tilted its faceless head, resonance vibrating from it like the peel of bells warped and inverted.
Defiance.
The word was not an acknowledgment but a sentence.
Lin collapsed to one knee, his chains thrashing violently, splitting into factions. Half of them strained toward the throne, drawn by instinct, while the other half lashed against the pull, wrapping tight around his limbs as if to anchor him where he stood. The tension made his body convulse, tearing his muscles in spasms. Blood dripped from his mouth and ears.
Min-joon caught him before he hit the ground entirely. His arms wrapped around Lin’s trembling frame, holding him tight, whispering against the storm. "Stay with me, Lin. Don’t let it take you. Look at me."
Lin tried. He truly tried. But the chains inside him shrieked, drowning out thought, drowning out reason. His skull rattled like it would split. He pressed his forehead against Min-joon’s shoulder, clawing at the other man’s jacket as though it were the only lifeline left.
The envoy raised a hand.
The abyss obeyed.
The colossal bones around them groaned and began to collapse inward, as if dragged by unseen strings. Great ribcages folded, skulls cracked and sank, spines collapsed into dust. The graveyard became a collapsing circle, narrowing, shoving Lin and Min-joon toward the throne at its center.
Min-joon staggered under the shifting ground but held Lin upright. "It’s forcing you closer. Damn it, Lin, you have to resist!"
"I—can’t—" Lin gasped, his chest constricting as if wrapped in iron bands. His chains tightened across his ribs, piercing his skin where links burst through. The scent of blood mingled with the copper tang of resonance. "It’s—inside me—"
"Then let me inside too," Min-joon shot back, gripping Lin’s face and forcing his eyes up. His own gaze was wild, desperate, but steady. "Don’t let it be the only voice. Let me in. Anchor yourself to me."
Lin’s vision swam. For a heartbeat, he saw Min-joon clearly—sweat streaking his face, eyes fierce with determination, lips trembling from strain. That image cut through the haze like a blade.
But the envoy moved.
With a sweep of its arm, a storm of chains erupted from the throne itself. They whipped outward, hissing like serpents, embedding into the bone-field. Each impact cracked fossils into splinters. The ground beneath Lin’s feet tilted sharply, pulling him forward.
He screamed, digging his heels in, but the chains rooted in him answered the throne’s call. They dragged his body a step closer, then another, their links tightening around his limbs like shackles.
Min-joon threw himself against him, bracing his weight, dragging him back by sheer force of will. His voice was raw now, torn from shouting against the abyss. "You don’t belong to it! You’re not its king—you’re not its slave—you’re Lin!"
Above, far beyond the abyss, the fracture bled its resonance into the surface.
Keller felt it first, a quake rattling the ruins where he and Hwan sheltered. His teeth ground together as the taste of iron filled his mouth. He knew. Lin was deep under, caught in something monstrous.
Hwan staggered, clutching the wall, his face pale. "This... this is abyssal overflow. If it ruptures fully, the city’s done."
Keller grabbed his rifle, even though he knew bullets meant nothing here. His jaw clenched so tightly the muscles popped. "Then we don’t wait. We go after him."
"You’ll die," Hwan snapped, fear raw in his tone.
"Better that than leaving him to that." Keller’s voice was a growl, but beneath it was a flicker of something else. Regret. Guilt. He had led men into nightmares before. Left them there. Not again. Not this one.
Back below—
The envoy’s resonance surged, cracking marrow pillars like dry twigs.
You are marrow of the abyss. You are throne-bound. You are mine.
The voice tore into Lin’s head, shredding his sense of self. The chains that resisted began to falter, snapping back toward the throne one by one. His knees hit the bone-ground, his fingers clawing grooves into the calcified surface.
Min-joon dropped with him, refusing to let go, wrapping both arms around Lin’s torso as though he could shield him from the inevitable. His body shook under the weight of resonance pressing down, but he refused to break.
"I won’t let you go," he whispered fiercely into Lin’s ear. "Not to it. Not ever."
The envoy tilted its head, and for the first time, it shifted its hand toward Min-joon.
A chain lashed out like lightning.
Lin reacted before thought. His own chains surged, intercepting the strike mid-air. Sparks of resonance exploded as abyss met abyss. The clash sent Lin sprawling back, ribs cracking under the force—but the chain meant for Min-joon never touched him.
The envoy’s head turned toward Lin, and its faceless void rippled with something like amusement.
Even now, you protect him. Even now, you resist. Very well. You will break slower. You will watch him shatter first.
Min-joon stiffened, but he only clung tighter to Lin, shaking his head. "No. You don’t get me. You don’t get him. We’re not yours."
The envoy spread its arms wide.
The throne rose.
It did not rise like stone—it ascended like a living thing. Chains uncoiled, growing, weaving into columns that stretched upward, lifting the throne into the abyssal dark. Its shadow fell across the graveyard like a crown of iron.
Every chain anchored in Lin snapped taut. His body jerked forward, dragged across the ground. The links cut into his skin, drawing long lines of blood.
Min-joon wrapped his arms around him, planting his feet, screaming as he fought against the pull. His muscles tore under the strain, his breath coming in ragged bursts. "I’m not letting you go!"
Lin’s eyes blurred with tears. His voice broke as he gasped, "Min-joon—I can’t—hold—"
"You can!" Min-joon roared back, forehead pressing against Lin’s. "You can! Because you’re not alone. Because I’m here. Because I—"
His voice cracked, but he forced it out anyway. "Because I love you, damn it!"
Lin’s breath hitched. The abyss roared around them. The throne’s chains dragged harder, furious now, resonance shrieking like a storm.
But inside Lin’s chest, something steadied.
The chains within him, torn between abyss and self, froze for an instant—caught on that word. On that tether.
Love.
It was not resonance. Not marrow. Not abyss. Something else. Something the abyss could not claim.
Lin’s hands clenched into fists, blood dripping down his knuckles. He forced his head up, glaring at the throne through blurred vision. His voice cracked, but it carried.
"I am not your king. I am not your marrow. I am not your slave!"
The graveyard shuddered. The envoy’s faceless head tilted, chains trembling with fury.
Lin screamed again, and this time his chains erupted—not toward the throne, not toward the envoy, but outward, slamming into the ground, anchoring him where he stood.
The throne pulled. The abyss pulled.
But Lin did not move.
Min-joon’s grip tightened, his face streaked with tears and blood. "That’s it. That’s you. Hold on."
The envoy lowered its arms slowly, resonance crackling with wrath.
Then you will be broken until nothing is left but marrow.
Chains surged again, more than before. The throne itself began to descend, dragging itself across the graveyard, swallowing the fossils beneath it as though devouring them whole.
Lin and Min-joon braced, but the abyss was not finished.
This was only the beginning.