A crimson crack split open across the floor, bleeding light and sound. The hum was deep and heavy. Zakar flinched, instinctively reaching for his blade, but before he could move, the rift widened and spilled three silhouettes into his space.

The scent of sulfur and cold air followed them.

Kenry stepped out first and then Kyara and Carene followed suit. Their roaming his room as they stepped in.

Zakar's grip on his weapon tightened. "What the hell do you think you're doing in my room?"

Carene glanced around lazily. "So messy. Typical of you, Dumb boy?"

Zakar's brow furrowed. "What did you call me?"

Kenry raised a hand slightly, stopping Carene before she could say more. His voice was low, the kind of voice that made people listen without realizing why. "We don't have time to explain everything here. Come with us."

Zakar's laugh was dry and short. "Do I look like someone who is the mood for simple chit chatting? My friends are in a bad condition right now."

Kyara stepped forward, her crimson coat brushing past his bed. "You don't have a choice. The room you're standing in isn't real anymore."

The walls began to ripple as if the paint had turned liquid. The corners bled out paints and suddenly the familiar scent of metal and dust was gone, replaced by an overwhelming stillness like the whole world had stopped breathing.

Zakar's instincts screamed. His hand went for his sword again, but Kenry was faster. With one flick of his wrist, the rift expanded, swallowing them all before Zakar could even blink.

When Zakar opened his eyes again, he was standing on cold stone. The air was heavy and damp, echoing faintly with distant drops of water.

Massive walls rose on every side walls that glowed faintly with blue runes and symbols that he couldn't comprehend.

They were in a labyrinth.

"What kind of place is this?" Zakar muttered, scanning his surroundings. His voice bounced back from the twisting corridors. "A dungeon?"

Carene brushed her hands across the wall, the faint runes reflecting off her pale skin. "Something far older. This is where Tailors measure power. Since you broke our artifact the other time I guess you should be able to be measured here."

"Tailors?" Zakar repeated. "You mean like Nero Void?"

The moment the name left his lips, the air changed. All three of them froze.

Kyara's smirk vanished completely. Her hands clenched around the edge of her cloak. Carene's usually calm expression tightened, and even Kenry who had been perfectly composed until now — looked away, his jaw clenching.

"So you've met him," Kenry said quietly.

Zakar nodded, eyes narrowing. "Met him? The bastard nearly killed me! Said he was an 'Upper-Class Tailor' — whatever that means. You three are the same, aren't you?"

Kenry sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. But Nero Void is not one of us anymore."

Carene turned to face Zakar, her tone sharper than before. "He's beyond Tailoring now. What he did to your friend. That possession it's something even our Order forbids."

Zakar's eyes darkened. "Then tell me. What is a Tailor?"

Kenry's gaze met his. "We're what your System calls 'Class Makers.' We don't just fight. We shape the power of others. We create, adjust, and twist the threads of their strength."

Zakar frowned. "Sounds like playing god."

Kyara chuckled softly, though her eyes stayed cold. "You're not far off."

They began walking, the labyrinth echoing under their steps. Strange glows shimmered under their boots, marking their passage. Zakar could feel his body reacting to the labyrinth.

Kenry spoke without turning. "We brought you here because Nero Void made contact. That means the balance has shifted. The Negative Entity is greater than expected."

"Great," Zakar muttered. "Because one demon wasn't enough."

Carene stopped, turning toward him. "You think this is a joke? Nero Void is the only man to ever absorb a Tailor's entire essence and live. He can rewrite power itself. If he takes interest in you, that means you're either a threat… or his next project."

Zakar's jaw tightened. "He said something about me needing more power to beat the Negative Entity. Maybe he's just trying to mess with me."

Kenry gave him a sharp look. "He doesn't lie. Not because he's honest but because he doesn't need to."

They reached a large open chamber. The ceiling arched high above, covered in interwoven threads of glowing crimson energy. The floor was a circle of white marble etched with strange symbols, humming softly as they approached.

Kyara's tone shifted to something more formal. "We're here."

Zakar frowned. "Where exactly is 'here'?"

Carene knelt by the marble ring, tracing her fingers along one of the glowing lines. "The Circle of Measure. It's where Tailors gauge their worth and compare the density of their Threads."

"Threads?" Zakar asked.

Kenry stepped into the circle. "Everything in existence is connected by Threads of life, power, emotion, and death. You, seem to carry black threads. We, as Tailors, manipulate those threads to weave new realities."

Zakar smirked faintly. "So basically, you're all fancy seamstresses with magic."

Kyara laughed out loud this time. "You're not wrong."

Carene shot her a look. "We don't sew, we forge."

Kenry raised his hand and the entire circle lit up. The glowing threads formed three distinct sigils, one for each of them.

"Before we talk further," Kenry said, "we'll measure our power. Then you'll measure yours."

Zakar crossed his arms. "Why should I go first?"

"You shouldn't," Kenry said calmly. "You'll see why after."

Carene stepped forward first. Her silver hair glowed faintly as she pressed her palm against the center of the circle. The air around her thickened instantly. Blue light streamed from her fingertips and coiled upward like smoke.

[Thread Density: 18%]

Zakar blinked. "That's… not much?"

Carene smirked. "That's more than enough to erase a city if I lose control. Thread percentages aren't linear. Each single percent is a leap in magnitude."

Kyara followed, her eyes turning deep red. Sparks of fire-like energy danced around her, crackling against the marble.

[Thread Density: 16%]

She whistled softly. "A bit low today. I've been lazy."

Zakar shook his head. "Lazy? Hmm. I didn't know you were?"

Kenry said nothing as he stepped forward. He pressed his palm to the center, and the air immediately dropped in temperature. The threads that rose from his body were pure white bright enough to sting Zakar's eyes.

[Thread Density: 25%]

The light faded.

Kenry stepped back, his tone calm but heavy. "Now, your turn."

Zakar hesitated. His body still ached from the earlier fight with Nero Void. The memory of those serpents' crushing force still lingered in his bones.

He took a deep breath. "Fine."

He walked into the circle and placed his palm in the center.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the floor cracked.

The light didn't rise it exploded.

Dark mist surged from Zakar's hand, twisting and spiraling upward into a vortex. The walls shuddered, runes flaring bright enough to blind.

Carene stumbled back, eyes wide. Kyara raised her arms to shield herself from the force. Even Kenry took a step back, his expression unreadable.

[Thread Density: -- -- --]

[Warning: Reading Exceeds Safe Threshold]

[Stabilizing Sequence Initiated]

The vortex faded slowly, leaving Zakar kneeling, panting, his hand still pressed to the glowing floor.

When the light finally dimmed, Kenry spoke first. "...Impossible."

Kyara's voice trembled with a rare mix of awe and fear. "No reading… The circle couldn't even calculate him."

Carene's silver eyes reflected the lingering black mist around Zakar. "He's not Tailor-threaded. His power isn't woven into the Loom. It's outside it."

Zakar looked up, his expression blank. "Translation please?"

Kenry met his gaze. "It means you don't belong to any design in this world. You're not part of the structure of the Tailors."

Zakar stood slowly. "So what does that make me?"

Carene smiled faintly. "A loose thread."

Kyara crossed her arms. "And if Nero Void really noticed you, it means he wants to weave you in."

Zakar looked around at their faces and could pick out fear, awe, and something else he couldn't quite name.

"Then I guess it's about time I learned how to cut threads instead."

The labyrinth trembled faintly as he spoke the circle pulsing once before going dim, as though it had heard him and agreed.

Kenry gave him a long look. "You might just be the last thing this world can't sew back together."

Zakar's lips curved into a tired smirk. "Good. I'm done being anyone's design."

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