My Shard Bearer System - Elias's Legacy
Chapter 113: Ties Undone

Chapter 113: Ties Undone

Elias turned, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and sat there for a while. Hands clasped, elbows on his knees, head tilted low. The pod was quiet—dim light from the overhead strips cast a faint blue across the walls, but it didn’t reach the corners. His skin felt cold against the recycled air.

He couldn’t stop seeing it.

The way the body came apart. Not just the cut—how clean it had been—but what came after. The silence. The way the heat peeled Randalp down to nothing. The look Vincent had right before the second shard lit. Like he didn’t want it to happen. Or didn’t know it would.

He pressed his palms together harder.

Colby had once sat across from him, legs folded on the training mat, explaining how his Ikona worked—tracing lines with his finger on the floor, animated, proud. Elias had nodded along, half-understanding the mechanics but seeing how much it mattered to him.

Now that same Ikona had killed someone. Ripped through him like it was wired for it.

His breath caught.

He rubbed his hands back through his hair, letting the strands fall messily forward. The guilt was heavy—not the kind you shake off. More like pressure behind the ribs. He should’ve finished Vincent back at the resort. Could’ve. Maybe.

But he didn’t.

A knock hit the door.

Soft, but not hesitant.

He stood, approached the panel, and pressed the unlock. The door slid open with a quiet hiss.

Kikaru stood just outside, shoulders damp with sweat, hair pulled into a loose tie, her hoodie clinging at the edges. Her breathing was steady, but her eyes didn’t hide the pressure behind them.

"We still need to work out," she said. "All of us. More now than ever."

Elias nodded. "Yeah. I know."

She didn’t move. Just stood there a second longer, eyes locked on him.

"What’s eating at you?" she asked.

He leaned against the pod doorframe, arms folded now, jaw tight. "Seeing Vincent use Colby’s Ikona," he said. "Watching him kill someone with it. It’s not even about the fight anymore. It’s... something else. I’m starting to feel like we’re getting stronger, yeah, but the wrong kind of strong."

Kikaru dropped her gaze. One hand went to her chest, resting over the center like she was trying to calm something that hadn’t stopped racing.

"I’ve been feeling the same," she said. "The system gave me a win against Silas. But that was a joke. I lost. Badly. And Colby..." Her throat tightened. She swallowed it down. "He followed my lead. Trusted I had the right call. I didn’t."

Elias didn’t answer right away. He just listened. She needed to say it out loud.

She met his eyes again. "You ever feel like you’re just... moving through it all? Like each fight puts a layer over the last one, and the only thing that keeps you grounded is how much it hurts after?"

"Every day," he said.

They stood there for a few seconds longer before Kikaru exhaled and gave a small nod. "Get dressed. I’m heading to the mat. Doesn’t have to be complicated. Just doesn’t stop."

Elias grabbed his shirt and followed.

The workout started at 6:00, but no one tracked the time. Just breath, movement, sweat—each strike sharper than the last. No one spoke. No one needed to.

By 7:00, the group had gathered without discussion. Silence carried weight today.

The system intercom dinged.

The sound echoed across the wall speakers, followed by a smooth, even voice.

"Elias Kael. Kikaru (). Paul (). Please report to Warden Geras immediately."

The training room doors slid open. A woman stood there—shoulders square, eyes tired behind thin-rimmed glasses. Elias recognized her from the front desk. He tilted his head slightly.

Right. Weekend. Oliver’s off rotation.

She didn’t introduce herself. Just lifted a datapad and spoke evenly. "As the intercom stated—finish getting dressed and meet me outside in five minutes. Please."

Kikaru nodded. "Elias, check your third drawer. Should be a set of slacks and a white collared shirt. Pressed. Everyone gets one."

He didn’t argue. Just followed the instruction, listening.

Ten minutes passed.

The trio regrouped outside the hall—shoes tied, shirts tucked, breath steady. She looked them over and gave a small nod. On time.

Junjio jogged in from down the hall and stopped short in front of Elias, eyes wide. His Ikona floated close behind, dimly lit.

"Is everything really alright?" he asked, voice low.

Elias sighed through his nose, placed a steady hand on the boy’s shoulder. "Like we talked about during the workout. We focus on what we can control. The stronger we get now, the more we’ll be able to handle when it counts."

Junjio looked down. His fist clenched at his side.

"I just... I don’t want to be next to die to him."

Elias brought his closed fist to his chest. Firm. Quiet.

"You won’t. I’ll take him down. Next time... for sure."

Junjio nodded. The motion was small, but his stance straightened.

"We’ll talk more later," Elias added. "Keep training with your Ikona. Focus on break throws."

Junjio stepped back, watching as the trio followed the attendant down the hall toward whatever came next.

The group moved in silence. Not stiff—focused. Paul adjusted his collar once, then didn’t touch it again. Kikaru walked steady, hands at her sides. Elias kept pace in the middle, gaze forward, unreadable.

The halls here were always cold. Manufactured air, sterilized edges. Everything with just enough echo to remind you the Cube was floating, isolated.

The attendant led them past the medbay, through a sealed checkpoint that hissed open without needing input. Another two turns. Then the wider hall—taller ceilings, military-grade paneling lining the walls like subtle armor.

They reached the final door. No markings. Just the familiar reinforced slab and single black pad beside it. She tapped her code in. The lock released with a low chime, and the door slid open.

Geras didn’t look up. not for a brief moment