My Shard Bearer System - Elias's Legacy-Chapter 193: A new World?

He didn’t realize he’d stepped forward until the edge of the platform caught the tip of his boot.

For one wild second, he considered it—just jumping down. Making sense of this himself.

But he stopped.

Instead, he stared. At the broken form below. At the blade that never swung. At the idiot who chose death over dominance.

Vincent dragged a breath through his nose and closed his eyes, holding it. frёeweɓηovel_coɱ

Then let it out slowly.

"I should’ve been the one to kill him."

Junjio’s knees pressed into the platform, his small frame trembling violently as he knelt among the Shard Users, the liminal realm’s pale light casting a long, warped shadow behind him. His fingers clenched at the fabric of his tattered uniform, twisting it tighter and tighter into a knot over his chest, like he could stop himself from falling apart if he just held on hard enough. The air around him buzzed with static and grief, but he couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel anything but the pressure caving in around his ribs. He couldn’t breathe.

The others sat in silence, the weight of the moment hanging over them like fog. But Junjio—he couldn’t sit still. His body rocked forward, forehead pressing into the cold, unreal surface of the platform, his breath sharp, shallow, erratic. The scene below never left his vision—Elias’s half-faded body crumpled in the dust, blood soaking the ground, Kikaru leaning over him, too stunned to cry. Too empty to speak.

And it was his fault.

He’d left Elias. He’d run. Betrayed him in the one moment that mattered. Not just turned away. Sold him out.

The memory was a jagged blur. Vira’s threats in the pod hall. The way Cube X had screamed in his head, promising freedom. His own voice saying yes—because he thought it was the only way out. He just wanted to see his dad. Just wanted to be with him again. That wasn’t so wrong, was it? But Elias...

Elias had stepped in when no one else would.

The image hit him like a punch: Elias dragging him out of Vincent’s crew, standing between him and the ones who would’ve broken him. Again. The firm grip on his shoulder. The calm words that cut through the chaos: "You don’t owe them anything, Junjio. Let’s get your dad. Together."

And they did.

Elias kept that promise. He’d burned for it. Bled for it. Even lied to his own team to make it happen. Junjio’s father was alive now—hidden, safe, out of Cube X’s reach—because Elias made it so. Because Elias believed Junjio mattered.

And what had he done in return?

He’d joined the people who hunted Elias. Let the others lock him in. Let Kikaru believe Elias had turned on them all.

He didn’t fight it. Didn’t stop any of it.

"I’m sorry," Junjio whispered, voice barely audible through the clenched sobs trying to choke him. The words felt too small. Too late. They curled into the floor like smoke.

The ground didn’t move. The light didn’t change. Elias didn’t stir.

Junjio’s fists hit the stone. Once. Twice. Again. He didn’t care who was watching. Didn’t care that the platform was supposed to be sacred or that the others were trying to stay composed. He sobbed into his fists, teeth clenched hard enough to ache, as if he could punish himself by force. The weight of it all crushed him flat.

You could’ve stopped it. You could’ve warned him. You could’ve told Kikaru the truth.

You did none of it.

"I didn’t want this..." he said, louder this time. His voice cracked halfway through, the second half eaten by the shaking in his chest.

No one responded.

Above it all, the Announcer was still talking—some smug line about rules and consequences—but Junjio didn’t hear it. His ears rang. The buzzing in his head blocked everything except the memory of Elias’s eyes when they last met. Not angry. Not even disappointed.

Just tired.

He’d seen the end coming. And still, he gave everything.

Junjio’s breath caught again, a low whimper escaping as he hunched tighter over himself, forehead now pressed to the platform edge, tears leaking from the corner of his eye. He didn’t care who saw.

Elias had saved him.

Saved his father.

Tried to save them all.

And now he was gone.

Because Junjio had believed the lies.

Because he didn’t speak when it mattered.

Because he wasn’t brave enough to stand.

So he knelt.

And wept.

Because it was all he could do now.

And it would never be enough.

Wes stood a few paces back, arms crossed, eyes locked on the arena’s center. idwell leaned against the railing, his posture slouched, blood still leaking down his side and staining the platform below. The wound from Cube X hadn’t closed properly. Every breath pulled at torn tissue, a dull throb that reminded him he shouldn’t even be standing. His hand gripped the rail tighter. The other twitched loosely at his side, fingers curling and unspooling.

The smirk was long gone.

His Ikona drifted overhead—no longer swirling, no longer shifting. Just a dim haze of low-hanging mist, its edges collapsed inward like a cloud that had forgotten how to float. The tendrils it used to trail lazily now curled inward, unresponsive, pulsing faintly once every few seconds like it was conserving energy.

Tidwell didn’t speak right away.

He stared at the center of the arena where Elias’s body had begun to vanish. Not metaphorically. Literally. Fading out into that pale system light, the shard shattered, blood soaking into the ground, blue sparks trailing off him like dying embers. The faint outline of Elias’s back had just started to blur when Tidwell finally muttered under his breath.

"Damn fool."

It wasn’t mockery. It wasn’t rage. It sounded like someone choking on a laugh that never came.

He’d been mad at Elias—really mad. Furious, even. Not just for leaving them behind during the Cube X breakout. For choosing Kikaru. For trading their entire squad’s lives for a girl who didn’t even want his help. Tidwell still remembered the cuffs biting into his wrists, the feeling of heat stealing breath from his lungs while chained and bleeding out. Elias hadn’t even looked back. He just walked away. Talked like it was all necessary. Like his choices were noble.

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