CHAPTER 57: The Fifty-Seventh Fracture

The corridor back to the lab felt longer this time. Quieter.

But Oizys walked with purpose now, hand still in Alric’s. She didn’t look back.

The lab doors hissed open.

Dr. Kikyo was waiting—arms crossed, surrounded by softly glowing equipment, sigils orbiting her head like a halo of broken logic. Lyra and Yuuka flanked her, both mid-calculation, sheets of mana-script hovering in the air like translucent banners.

Oizys let go of Alric’s hand. Her voice was steady.

“Let’s begin.”

Kikyo’s gaze flicked to her, clinical but respectful. “Lie down here. We’ll need only a vial—no more. The resonance matrix will isolate divine fragments before any reaction takes hold.”

Yuuka stepped forward. “I’ve reinforced the glyph chamber with null-curse runes and mirror-blood anchors. If anything goes wrong, it won’t reach you.”

“And the stabilizers?” Alric asked.

Lyra nodded. “Triple-shielded. With divine dilution fields. Even if her blood flares, it’ll be contained.”

Oizys climbed onto the operating slab. No restraints this time.

Just a crystal basin lined with reflective silver, surrounded by five rotating rings carved with both divine and scientific script.

Kikyo approached with the needle—a thin black filament tipped with an obsidian point. It vibrated faintly with a discordant hum.

“Ready?” Kikyo asked.

Oizys closed her eyes. “Do it.”

The needle pierced.

Her blood shimmered as it left her body—silver-black at first, then rapidly fracturing into streaks of violet and deep crimson. The basin lit up with rippling glyphs. Yuuka flinched as the divine signature surged through the room, brushing every sense like an ancient scream held just beneath silence.

And then—it stilled.

A soft pulse echoed. The glyphs held.

“…Stabilized,” Kikyo whispered. “It’s stable.”

Yuuka let out a breath. “Now comes the hard part.”

She slid the basin into a scanning cradle. Alric and Lyra followed as dozens of screens ignited—curse matrices, glyph chain reactions, decay timelines, and particle disintegration logs all projected in looping spirals.

Yuuka pointed to the center display. “Her divine blood doesn’t just reject curse logic. It disassembles it. This isn’t resistance—it’s systemic incompatibility.”

Lyra narrowed her eyes. “Which means… if we can synthesize a curse-proof barrier using her blood as a base… it could protect the body from curse feedback and decay.”

“Exactly,” Kikyo said. “We’re not just making armor. We’re making a reversal layer—a curse rejection buffer that can sit beneath skin or gear and neutralize disintegration in real time.”

Alric looked up. “Can we apply it to weapons too?”

Yuuka was already typing. “With the right channeling medium—yes. It would turn weapons into curse-reactive disruptors.”

Kikyo nodded. “I’ll begin generating infusion alloys. Lyra, calibrate the divine dilution model. Yuuka, stabilize the bloodline strain. We’ll prototype both armor and weapon enhancements before the week is out.”

“Wait,” Oizys said softly. They turned to her.

She sat up, still pale but steady.

“Don’t just design it for gods. Make it so anyone can use it. Science users. Mages. Humans. If we’re fighting the Curse Devil… no one should be left unarmed.”

There was a pause.

Then Lyra nodded. “We can bind the protective matrix to any host signature.”

Yuuka smiled faintly. “And I know someone who’ll want to test it first.”

Alric blinked. “Sukara.”

Oizys smiled too, just a little. “Of course.”

[Next Morning]

The morning sun hadn’t even broken the horizon when I arrived.

The lab was already active—cool light humming from the glyph panels overhead, air thick with sterilized ozone and the faint scent of divine residue. Oizys sat on a high stool nearby, pale but composed, a soft scarf wrapped around the crook of her arm. Yuuka and Lyra hovered over two crystalline control consoles, muttering adjustments.

Alric looked up as the doors hissed open. “You’re early.”

“I couldn’t sleep much knowing you guys were working hard. Plus, Saaya kept kicking me,” I said with a tired grin.

Alric chuckled.

I stepped in, wearing my usual outfit, and stopped in front of the central testing platform where a clear half-body exosuit glowed faintly—sleek, flexible, and laced with silvery-blue lines that shimmered with Oizys’s divine trace.

“This the prototype?” I asked.

Yuuka nodded. “It’s not perfect. We call it a C-Reversal Layer—curse-repulsion woven into micro-skin contact. You’ll still feel the hit. Still take internal impact. But it should stop full-body disintegration.”

“So,” I said, removing my jacket, “I’ll live.”

“If it works,” Lyra muttered.

I shot her a flat look. “That’s comforting.”

Kikyo stepped into the chamber, already pulling gloves on. “We’ll be releasing a controlled curse fragment from a preserved attack vector. Simulated battlefield density. You’ll stand in the middle of the pressure dome, and we’ll fire directly at the armor’s core glyph.”

Alric frowned. “You sure about this?”

I nodded. “We need to know if it works. Better me than someone who can’t survive it.”

I stepped into the testing dome.

As the transparent shield sealed around me, I flexed my fingers and rolled my shoulders. The suit felt light, almost weightless, but I could sense the power coiled within—like a whisper of divinity pressed against my skin.

Oizys watched silently, arms folded tight. Her eyes never left me.

Yuuka gave the signal. “Three… two… one.”

A pulse launched from the containment core.

It wasn’t a beam—it was a ripple in space itself. The curse fragment tore toward me like a jagged distortion, its edges warping light, laced with corrosive intent. The moment it touched me—

Silver flared. The curse impact struck my chest like a battering ram—I staggered back, teeth gritted, but stayed upright. The suit’s lines surged with white-blue light. The disintegration stalled at the outer membrane, breaking apart into harmless fragments.

The curse didn’t consume me.

It recoiled.

I dropped to one knee, coughing once—but breathing.

Yuuka’s voice crackled through the speakers. “Vitals stable. No curse feedback detected.”

Lyra adjusted her display. “Internal bruising. Minor mana recoil. But he’s intact. No decay.”

Kikyo exhaled, a rare flicker of awe on her face. “It worked.”

I looked up from the floor, chest heaving. “Okay. That hurt like hell. But I’m still here. Alive.”

Alric nodded. “Now that we have a way not to die to curses… all we have to worry about are their unique powers. I’m sure they’ve got some twisted tricks we haven’t seen yet.”

I turned to Oizys. “Thank you for your help.” I smiled.

“It was Alric who helped me, to be honest,” she said, glancing at him.

I raised a brow. “Oh really now? I know we understood each other. But it seems like someone else understands you even better these days.”

Alric and Oizys glanced at each other—then smiled, saying nothing.

I stepped out of the dome, pulling off the suit’s upper frame as steam curled from my shoulders.

I turned to Kikyo. “Now that we made this suit… is there a way to inject it into ourselves? So we don’t have to wear anything bulky? We know it works. There has to be a way, right, Doctor?”

Kikyo looked at Oizys. “Give me three days.”

Then to Oizys: “If we need more of your blood… would you help us?”

Oizys looked at Alric.

He smiled.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I’d love to help. And… after that, I think I can tell you why the devils are attacking us. My memory is coming back. Piece by piece. I guess if that’s coming back… my powers must be too.”

I stretched and started for the door. “Alright. While you guys do all that science stuff, I’m gonna go check on Saaya. She’s probably not gonna be happy I left her alone—and told her later I might’ve exploded.”

As I walked off, I heard Alric step closer to Oizys.

“If you need me by your side,” he said quietly, “just let me know. I’m here for you. Always.”

Oizys looked him in the eyes. “Thank you, Alric.”