The blue glow in the room didn't fade; it hummed like a predator waiting to strike. Sora's hand was still on Hana's shoulder, and she could feel his heartbeat—or was it the heartbeat of the building itself?
"Everything has a price, Hana," Sora whispered, his voice echoing in the magically transformed space. "I can turn your pain into power, but the world outside won't just let you walk away. To them, you are still a 'Broken Doll.' To me, you are a fortress. But even fortresses get attacked."
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The thin wooden door of the apartment rattled. Heavy, violent kicks were trying to bring it down.
"Hana! Open up, you brat! You haven't paid your 'protection fee' to the Syndicate this week!" A gravelly, terrifying voice screamed from the hallway. It was Goro, the local Yakuza enforcer who treated the girls in this block like garbage.
Hana's breath hitched. The old fear tried to crawl back up her throat, but the blue light on her skin flared up, pushing the darkness away. She looked at Sora. He wasn't scared. He looked bored.
"Go on," Sora said, stepping back into the shadows. "Open the door."
"Are you crazy? He'll kill us!" Hana hissed.
"No," Sora replied, his indigo eyes flashing. "He's stepping into my architecture now. Open it."
With trembling hands, Hana unlocked the latch. The door swung open, and Goro—a mountain of a man with scarred knuckles—stepped in. But as soon as his boots touched the obsidian floor, he stopped.
The air in the room became heavy, like lead. Goro tried to raise his hand to grab Hana, but his arm felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. He looked around, eyes widening as he saw the holographic blueprints pulsing on the walls.
"What... what kind of freak show is this?" Goro gasped, struggling to breathe.
"This is a 'Restricted Area'," Sora's voice came from the darkness, cold and sharp. "And you, Goro, are a structural defect. And I... I never leave a defect in my buildings."
Suddenly, the floor beneath Goro's feet turned liquid. He began to sink into the black stone, his screams muffled by the humming magic of the room. Hana watched, her heart racing—not with fear, but with a terrifying sense of justice.
The Architect was no longer just a healer. He was a judge.