My Charity System made me too OP

Leon looked at her, calm and clear. "Not a mission. A warfront. We're going to breach the Obliette's shell and reclaim a rhythm zone they corrupted years ago. We call it Pulse Reclamation. We haven't attempted it since Echoia died."

Aris inhaled. "And now you will. Because of me."

"Because you reminded the Tower we can still write," Leon said. "Because your pulse shook a forgotten floor awake."

There was silence. Even the glyphs under their feet dimmed, as if bracing for what came next.

Milim landed beside them a second later, upside down and spinning once midair before landing lightly on her feet. "Did someone say war?" she asked with a wild grin.

Leon didn't turn. "Start prepping the Forge team. I want a loadout ready in four cycles. Roman, you'll handle tactical ink layers. Roselia will run outer seals. Liliana's in command of harmonic shields. Aris—"

He turned to her.

"—you'll be coming with me. To the breach itself."

Aris didn't hesitate. "Good."

Leon paused, then added, "We'll be walking on a floor that doesn't accept rhythm. You'll be the only one whose beat it hasn't catalogued. That makes you unpredictable. Valuable."

Aris nodded once. "You said we were changing the tempo."

Leon smiled faintly.

"We're about to break the record."

And far below, on a floor that should not exist, a Sovereign once thought dead opened his eyes in the rhythmless dark… and smiled. Because he had heard her name.

And because the Obliette always remembered the ones who struck first.

The wind on the Threshold was unlike any Aris had felt.

It didn't blow.

It pulled.

Like something on the other side of the breach was breathing her in.

She stood on the edge of the Reclamation platform—one of several massive floating rings arranged in a slow rotation around a flickering glyph gate. Naval and Roselia had laced the rings with tempo-stabilizers, but even those pulsed inconsistently here. Liliana's harmonic threads shivered. Roman's ink refused to dry.

And Leon?

He just waited.

Calm. Centered. As if the chaos meant nothing to him.

His sword was slung across his back, but his eyes were sharp. Watching. Listening. Measuring the silence between heartbeats.

Aris watched him, trying to match his stillness.

She couldn't.

Her pulse was too loud. Her thoughts too scattered. The baton at her side felt heavier than usual, not because it had changed—but because the place ahead did not want her rhythm to exist.

"We breach in five," Roselia called out, locking a distortion cage around the central glyph. "Stabilizer pulse holding for now, but don't expect friendly floors once we cross. The Obliette hates order."

Milim floated past Aris upside down again, whistling a tune that didn't have a beat. "Hope you like paradoxes," she said brightly. "This floor eats tempo signatures and spits out memory weapons."

"Memory what?"

"Shh," Milim giggled. "Spoilers."

Aris gripped her baton tighter.

Leon stepped forward as the gate spiraled open with a shriek like a record being scratched backward.

"Move."

They stepped through together.

The world went sideways.

For a moment—Aris forgot who she was.

Then it came back.

Not through memory.

Through pain.

Her heartbeat twitched out of rhythm the second her foot touched the Obliette.

It wasn't a floor. It was absence.

The ground was real, and yet not. Solid, but breathing. The sky was a gray smear of unfinished thoughts, and there was no sun—just a distant sound, like teeth grinding against a melody long forgotten.

The landscape resembled a warped reflection of some old Tower floor—archways twisted backward, halls that led into themselves, ruins that never finished collapsing.

Glyphs drifted through the air like snow—but when Aris looked closely, they were names.

Not just any names.

Sovereign names.

"Leon," she whispered. "The air—it's whispering… your name."

He didn't answer.

But his eyes narrowed.

Roman was already drawing symbols mid-air, only for his ink to peel itself off and try to flee.

Liliana stepped forward and sang a single clear note.

It dissolved into static.

"This place isn't rejecting us," she said, her voice grim. "It's trying to overwrite us."

The ground cracked open thirty meters ahead.

A form emerged—not walking.

Unfolding.

Bone made of staves and limbs strung with broken violins. A head that spun slowly like a metronome. No eyes. No mouth. Just echoes.

"Form-Eater Prime," Roselia muttered, preparing her tempo seals. "Class-V Rhythmless Construct."

But then it spoke—not in words, but in tempo.

The beats hit them like punches to the lungs.

Too fast.

Too slow.

Too wrong.

Aris staggered. Her baton trembled in her grip.

The creature turned toward her.

And stopped.

Something in it… hesitated.

Leon noticed.

"Aris. Step forward."

She did, trembling.

The Prime didn't attack.

It watched.

Its voice rose again, but the pulse this time was quieter. Curious.

"What's it doing?" she asked, breath ragged.

Roselia answered in a whisper. "It doesn't recognize you."

Leon's expression darkened.

"That means she's not in its records."

"And that means," Roman added, stepping beside her, "she can move where we can't."

The Form-Eater Prime reared back. Its limbs shimmered, forming new weapons out of torn names—a blade made from a melody that had never been finished.

Then it lunged.

Aris didn't think.

She felt.

The baton moved.

Her feet shifted.

And she struck—not the monster, but the floor beneath her.

A burst of rhythm shot outward.

Real.

Alive.

Hers.

The Obliette flinched.

The Prime staggered.

And the Sovereigns struck all at once.

Leon's sword carved through tempo like wind through fire.

Milim blurred in a chaos-dance of pulse and laughter, cracking through limbs before they could fold.

Liliana sang, and the sky itself shifted into harmony—if only for a second.

Roman's brush painted a rhythm seal on the creature's chest.

Aris took the final step.

She drove her baton through the seal.

And whispered:

"Remember me."

The creature shattered.

But not completely.

It left behind a glyph.

Small. Black.

Carved in the same pattern as her mark.

And the Tower responded:

[Obliette Signature Absorbed – Sovereign Pulse Imprint Detected]

[Reclamation Zone Initiated – Sector Δ-Alpha-13]

The others turned to her.

Liliana, smiling faintly.

Milim, spinning in delight.

Roman, wiping his brush.

Leon just looked at her with quiet intensity.

"You just opened the first true pulse zone inside the Obliette," he said.

Aris didn't know what to say.

So she just nodded.

Then whispered to herself, "Let it try to forget me now."