Rin drifted through an empty space.

Where was he?

He was aware of himself, but that was it. For however long—he couldn’t remember—there was nothing. In the dark, at least there’s solid ground. There was no solid ground in this place, wherever he was. To float was like lying on the surface of the sea. The sea, at least, had buoyancy, not to mention the gentle movement of the tides. There was no buoyancy here, no tides. He simply drifted, unable to move. He was bathing in a state of tranquillity, all stimuli removed.

Was this even real?

There was no way of knowing.

What was this place?

He had no idea.

Why was he here?

He couldn’t remember.

All he knew was what there wasn’t. There wasn't anything. At least, there wasn’t, until a voice broke him free of his stasis.

“Get up, boy.”

Rin jerked awake, falling onto a solid surface. He landed hard on his back, and all the wind was knocked out of him. Gasping for breath, he rolled onto his side and into a foetal position, clutching at the back of his head. Rin found he was able to open his eyes. He looked, and was able to see.

“I said, get up!”

There the voice was again. Rin didn’t recognise this voice. It was dark and brooding, definitely adult. With another groan, the boy eventually did as he was told. Finding his footing, he managed at last to stand, albeit with a deal of difficulty.

What surrounded him now, he had never seen before in his life. He now stood on a barren plane, one stretching as far as the eye could see underneath a cavernous deep blue sky. The ground he stood on looked solid enough. It was grey and felt like stone or concrete.

“What is this place?” Rin swivelled on his heel, taking in his empty surroundings, shielding his eyes with one hand on habit. He didn’t need to. There wasn’t any sun.

“Where are you looking?”

It was that deep voice again, coming now from behind him.

“Who said that?!” Rin whipped around again in surprise, nearly losing his balance.

Standing where he hadn’t been moments before, there was a man. He was tall, standing a good head and shoulders above Rin, and had broad shoulders. He wore a golden helmet that covered his eyes, jagged wings on both sides. An eagle’s beak extended to cover his nose, and its left eye was detailed into the metal with a bright red jewel. Below the helmet, curtains of black hair spilled out over his shoulders. All he wore was a long white skirt wrapped around his waist, trimmed with gold. Across his collar bone and around both wrists, more gold glimmered even in the sun’s absence.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Rin glared at him. “Or are you going to be any kind of help? Tell me who the hell you are!”

His question went unanswered. The man’s arms were folded over his chest, his mouth a sullen frown. “How much time has passed? I cannot know,” he mused to himself. “Even so, finally this wretched stasis has come to an end.” He lowered his tone. “You, boy. Did you open the tomb?”

Rin looked like he was five seconds away from tearing out his own hair. “Tomb? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about when you performed the Excel Ritual, child.”

It was at that moment Rin remembered everything. Those creatures; his father’s notebook, everything. Rin swore, holding his head in his hands, unable to lift his stare from the ground. Everything came flooding back all at once. All of it was real.

“Stand up straight, boy.” The man never ceased to sound unimpressed. His tone commanded such authority that Rin found himself doing as ordered without even thinking about it.

“Don’t call me boy. I have a name.”

The man looked amused. “Enlighten me.”

“Rinkaku Harigane.” Rin looked the man dead in the eyes as best he could, a difficult task when the top half of his face was hidden from view.

“I see.” The man made a thoughtful noise. “I must say,” he looked the boy up and down. “I'm disappointed. To think I would be summoned by such a weakling...”

“Screw you!” Rin flipped the man off with both hands. “I’m not a weakling!”

“You must be joking,” the man scoffed, suppressing a laugh. “Look at you, you’re practically malnourished. How is it you’re able to survive with a body like that? You don’t even look as though you’re able to lift your own bodyweight, let alone be strong enough to call yourself a man.”

“Shut up!” Rin crossed his arms and turned away. “I’m only seventeen.”

“That’s no excuse. Why, when I had reached sixteen winters, I was more than twice your size.”

“I don’t care!” Rin shouted. “Besides, you don’t get to make personal comments, asshole! For one, you’re not even wearing any clothes!”

“Clothes?” The man repeated. If his face could be seen, his eyebrows would be raised. “What relevance does my outfit have to your puny body?”

“Changing topic!” Rin stomped off grumpily around the area, until his earlier question came to mind. “Oh yeah,” he spun around and pointed an accusatory finger, “who the hell even are you?”

“My name is ███████.” The man trailed off. His lips were moving, but Rin couldn’t hear what he was saying. The boy squinted.

“What was that?”

“I said, my name is ███████.”

Rin was beyond confused. Why couldn’t he hear what the man was saying? Was he just speaking really quietly? “I can’t hear you!”

“I’m speaking to you loud and clear,” the unnamed man responded. “It is you who cannot hear my name.”

A dense fog filled Rin’s head. “Why?”

Just what was he missing here?

“Even if I explained why, your mind wouldn’t be able to comprehend it.” The man shook his head, as though confirming some withheld suspicions. “I’d rather not waste my breath.” He too began to circle the empty plane, never quite taking his eyes off Rin. When he spoke next, he slowed right down, emphasis on every word. “You simply aren’t ready to hear it yet, boy.”

Rin glowered at him, “I already told you my name.”

“So you did.”

Rin grit his teeth. “If I can’t understand your name, or whatever you’re saying, what can I call you?”

The man paused for a second or two, before responding with, “the Architect. You heard that, didn’t you?”

Rin nodded. He had only just noticed it, but both of their voices sounded with an echo, as though they were speaking in a cave. Looking around, the acoustics couldn’t be more disjointed from their surroundings. It was so strange. Moreover, on such a barren stretch of land, Rin would expect there to be some wind. There was no movement of air at all. Everything was perfectly still, yet it felt as though there was movement waiting to happen. He didn’t know what, he didn’t know where. He could just feel it, all around him.

“Where am I?” Rin asked.

“The Further Plane.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The Architect tutted. “Ignorant youth.”

Rin’s indignant retorts were promptly ignored.

“The further plane,” the Architect continued, “exists in a place beyond reality. Those awakened to the Eye can access this liminal space, one that exists between mind and matter.”

“Hang on, hang on—” Rin raised a hand. “The Eye? Like, the Third Eye? Like the book was talking about?”

“The very same,” the Architect responded. “Take a look at yourself, boy.”

The man snapped his fingers. The next instant, a full-length mirror appeared.

“No fucking way.”

Rin couldn’t believe it. Right in the middle of his forehead, a vertical eye glared right back at him from where he had stabbed himself with the Ascension Blade. It was just like the book had described. Did this mean he had performed the ritual correctly? It spoke of disastrous consequences otherwise. Is that what had happened to those things? He wondered, were they simply products of a failed ritual?

“As you can see, you have successfully awakened your own Third Eye,” the Architect said, snapping his fingers again. The mirror disappeared.

“Your conscious mind and your unconscious mind,” he continued, “previously two separate entities, are now one. Your third eye is the bridge between the body and the soul, allowing you to perceive both the physical and cognitive worlds. This further plane sits between them both. You can think of this place as the world inside your own soul.”

“My soul?” Rin stared incredulously at the Architect. With all the incomprehensible events that had happened to him today, he was in no place to start doubting anything. He had seen it all with his own two, now three, eyes, after all.

“Exactly,” the Architect nodded, sounding pleased now that Rin was beginning to cotton on. “You have only just awakened to this world.” He looked around. The only thing that looked back at him was the emptiness. “That is why it is so sparse.”

“I’m confused…”

“It is only natural.”

“The book spoke of a ‘third eye’ and ‘the Eye’ as though they were two different things,” Rin puzzled over the matter, cupping his cheek in one hand. “What even is ‘the Eye’?”

“I mentioned it before,” the Architect said, “but the world you see and the world that is are not one and the same. Contrary to what you might believe, boy, your perception is not objective.”

“What the hell…”

“There exists a metaphysical world, constructed from the collective human cognition. The Eye is situated in the middle of that world, and exists as a gateway between the real and the unreal.”

“So that’s why…”

“You now have an eye in the middle of your forehead, yes.”

All of this was making Rin’s head hurt. He was convinced, at any point, he was going to wake up in bed from this fever dream. The school day wouldn’t even have started. Yet, what was this tingle of excitement he was feeling all over his skin? Rin realised that he now felt more alive than he could ever remember. His mind was finally being challenged. It was like some hidden part of his consciousness, having lain dormant his entire life, had suddenly awoken.

Unaware of what was going on around him, sparks of purple electricity had begun to flow and crackle all around him, all originating from his third eye.

The Architect watched with fascination. It hadn’t yet been an hour since the boy had awakened himself, and he had already formed a rudimentary flow.

“Walk with me, boy.” The Architect’s voice snapped Rin out of his own head.

Rin, startled, was compelled to follow. Before he’d had a chance to respond, the Architect was already walking away into the distance. Rin pulled a face, not exactly seeing what choice he had in the matter. Not wanting to be left alone in this empty wasteland, and so jogged on after him.

After a while, Rin had lost track of just how far they had walked. With no landmarks as far as the eye could see, his bearings were nonexistent. The Architect strode ahead in front; Rin sloping along behind. Time didn’t really seem to pass in this place, and the scenery didn’t change.

“Stop.” The Architect thrust his arm out to the side.

Rin, not really looking where he was going, proceeded to walk straight into the man’s elbow. Sent crashing to the ground with a yelp, Rin massaged his forehead. His pride sounded much more damaged.

Springing back to his feet, Rin jabbed an angry finger into the man’s chest. “What the hell was that for?!”

“Look behind you.”

Behind him was a precipice. Rin looked over his shoulder and jumped half-way out his own skin. He scrambled away from the ledge, realising he had been about two and a half seconds away from pitching over the edge and falling to his doom.

“Why the hell didn’t you warn me?”

The Architect looked confused, “didn’t I?”

“What, by punching me in the face?”

“I did no such thing.”

“Oh, forget it,” Rin grumbled, succumbing to his curiosity and peering back over the ledge he had nearly fallen off. He couldn’t see the bottom. Beyond a certain point, it was simply lost to darkness. He shivered.

“It seems this is as far as your foundation goes,” the Architect observed, looking out over the empty expanse as though it meant something.
Rin suddenly had the urge to push the Architect off the ledge himself. He could only take so many more cryptic statements from the man before he’d go mad. Sighing, he knew he couldn’t. He still had too many questions left to ask.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rin asked, with an expression that read ‘I dare you to say something disparaging again’ all over it.

“Do you think I’m being condescending?” The Architect said, looking down at him. “On the contrary. The fact we’ve walked this far and have only just now reached the edge means that you have far more potential than you or I could have ever imagined.”

Rin was floored. He opened his mouth, ready with some quick-fire sarcastic retort to defend himself with, only to be blindsided by the most dangerous weapon of all: a compliment.

“Not everyone has the base mental fortitude to create such sturdy foundations as these,” the Architect continued, banging his heel on the floor. “The creation of foundations to begin with is no small feat.”

Rin opened his mouth, but the Architect answered his question before he’d even had a chance to ask.

“The foundations of your mind. Your aptitude and willpower are unlike anything I’ve seen. The rest of you?” He sized him up once more. “… lacklustre.”

Rin scowled.

“No matter,” the Architect continued, turning back over to the horizon. “With discipline and perspective, that all can change.”

Rin walked further over towards the ledge, crouching down next to it. Something about it drew him closer: an inviting darkness, a call to the void. Looking up at the Architect, he pointed down into its depths. “What would happen if I fell?”

A shadow descended over what remained visible of the Architect’s face. “You would become nothing more than those Rejected, the ones seconds away from ending your life.”

Rin stared at him, wide-eyed. “Then, is this all connected? Those… Rejected, my third eye, you—for crying out loud.“ He stood and backed away from the ledge. All traces of that morbid curiosity from moments ago had since vanished. He sighed, pacing with his hands in his pockets.

“Those without the mental capacity to form strong foundations, boy,” the Architect caught his attention again. “They do not have the strength to resist the influence of the Eye.”

“What—”

Stepping up to Rin, the Architect, without any kind of warning, jabbed his finger into the boy’s third eye. The pain was immeasurable, and while he yelled at first, his expression went blank the very next instant. His mind in that moment was transported far away. Everything was dark. He was floating in the midst of the cosmos itself. Everything felt electric along his skin, but Rin could no longer perceive himself.

The Architect’s voice resounded through this void, magnified and booming.

“You were not conscious for this, boy, but at the time of your awakening, you established a connection with the Eye. That is the purpose of the excel ritual.”

As soon as he heard the word "eye," Rin was able to see it. If he still had a mouth, it would be hanging open. A gigantic vertical eye, exactly the same as was on his forehead or on the faces of those Rejects, appeared in space in front of him. The size of a small planet, it glowed like a star. Immaterial, and yet seeming so real, currents of strange energy in a myriad of colours danced in burning arcs across its surface. Though fixed in space, the eye roamed all over. Rin could feel it staring right through his very soul, as though it were the one to create it in the first place. The whites shifted like lava, the depths of its kaleidoscopic iris were unending, its pupil a literal black hole.

 

“As for those without the mental fortitude to excel,” the Architect’s voice boomed again, and Rin’s viewpoint shifted. He was much closer to the Eye now. It loomed in the background like a damning celestial body, a watcher of the cosmos. Three people hovered in front of him. Simultaneously, their foreheads were pierced like how Rin had pierced his own. Rin watched as their bodies contorted horribly, twisting into positions the human body was not supposed to go. They screamed in silence, clutching at their heads in agony.

“They become nothing more than vessels.”

As soon as he said that, eyes appeared in the middle of their heads. All three went limp.

“The feeble-minded are no match for the Eye’s psychic energy. Their minds, their souls are overpowered; then, the Eye takes control.”

The eyes on their heads began to grow, pulsating voraciously as their muscles twitched. Rin watched in horror as their bodies began to mutate. Their muscles swelled to gross extremes, their clothes and even their skin tore from the strain. The eyes had travelled down to the centre of their faces, and were still growing. The skin was split apart, all their facial features mercilessly warped and pushed out of the way to make room. Before long, Rin was no longer staring at people, but at monsters.

“That is why they are called Rejected.”

As soon as the trip began, it was over. The Architect retracted his finger, and Rin was back. The boy fell to his knees, his chest heaving, gasping for breath. A blinding pain in his forehead was followed by a wave of nausea. He gagged, before being violently sick all over the concrete floor.

“What the—” Rin retched again, before giving the Architect a look that contained more bile than the pool of vomit on the floor, “—FUCK was that for?!”

“The truth is often disturbing.”

Rin shook his head, trying to regain some sense of composure. Disgusted, he spat out whatever remained in his mouth and then got to his feet.

Despite his best efforts, he still swayed slightly, his vision still spinning like he had been stuffed head-first into a washing machine.

“Any other,” he took a laboured breath, still supporting himself by holding his knees, “nausea-inducing tricks you have up your sleeve, whilst you’re at it?”

“Sleeves? I’m not even wearing a shirt.”

“You don’t say.” Rin wondered why he even bothered at this point. “About those Rejects,” he said, standing up properly now. “Am I right in saying no time has passed in reality since I stabbed myself with that knife?”

“You catch on quickly.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of my whole thing—” Rin cut himself off, shaking his head. “Anyway, that’s not the point! The book mentioned something about power. It said that if the excel ritual is performed successfully, it’d grant the user godlike power. If I don’t get that power, I’m going to die.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, and? It should be obvious what I’m asking here.” Rin didn’t know whether or not the Architect was pulling his leg, but by god was it annoying.

The man didn’t respond.

“I don’t want to die,” Rin continued. “I have my whole life to live!” Both fists clenched by his sides. “If I want to see the light of day tomorrow, I need to kill those things before they kill me. To kill them, I need some kind of power.”

“For what reason do you need this power, child? Beyond, of course, extending your pitiful life.”

“This world is corrupt,” Rin gestured wide with his hands. “It's falling apart at the seams. Civilisation is on the brink of collapse! And what's to blame?” He raised one finger. “Inferior design.”

“What’s your point?” The Architect asked.

“My dream has always been to redesign the world, to shape it to the one I've always dreamed of: the perfect world. I’m going to become the greatest architect that Japan, no, that the world has ever seen!”

Rin said this with such conviction that the floor underneath him trembled. The Architect took note of this, holding his chin in his palm.

Stepping forward, Rin reached out a hand.

“In order to live until tomorrow, so that I can do all of this, I need you to give me your power, Architect!”

There was silence for a few moments, before—

“No.”

A few seconds passed until what the man said was able to properly sink in.

“No? What do you mean, no?” Rin yelled, half-angry, half-confused. His hand dropped to his side, shoulders drooping. Betrayal was etched onto exasperated features.

The Architect turned his back. “I won’t be beholden to such an insolent child.”

The final nail in the coffin. Rin, defeated, dropped to his knees. Staring at the floor, he did not blink. All he could see was his impending mortality, his life about to be snuffed out the moment his consciousness returned to reality. This ritual had been an all-or-nothing gamble.

Was this it? Was his entire life about to amount to nothing?

No.

Rin wasn’t going to accept that. He couldn’t.

He wouldn’t stop until he had built his dream.

“I’m not letting it end here.” Rin shifted his weight onto one leg to try and stand.

The Architect looked over his shoulder.

It took effort, but with one last gulp, Rin swallowed the remainder of his pride. “I’ll negotiate with you. What do you want from me? I’ll give you anything, anything you want!”

The Architect’s mouth, previously an immovable frown, turned to a grin.

“Stand up, Rinkaku Harigane.”

Rin rose.

“Let’s make a contract.”

Rin’s eyes widened.

“You wish to carve the world into your own image? Very well,” the man chuckled. “I’ll lend you the power you seek, and stabilise your connection to the Eye. In return, I have two conditions. You will persist with this goal until its completion. If you fail, or abandon it at any point, our contract will void. In accordance with the law of contracts, the renegade must pay a price; your life will be forfeit. Do you accept these terms?”

Rin nodded. What other choice did he have?

“I do.”

“Then our contract is sealed.”

The Architect took a step towards Rin, and placed his index finger inside Rin’s third eye. That same strange energy crackled in the air around them like static before a lightning strike. Rin cried out in pain and clutched at his face. A red hot branding began to carve itself into his skin, just below his left eye. From where it cooled, a black mark remained. The Eye of Horus.

“Now, let us begin.”

The Architect’s body lost its form, as the man dived inside Rin’s third eye. In that same instant, the world went black. Rin felt himself falling again, the air rushing past him as he pitched and tumbled through the endless nothingness. He lost himself to the motion, as he once again became a consciousness adrift in the void.