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Curse energy was never meant to be shared.

That was what the elders said. That was what the records warned against.

And yet—

It flowed between the three of you like breath.

Maru stood closest, his presence calm but heavy, his Rolloluca humming beneath his skin like a steady pulse. Cross leaned against the broken pillar behind you, eyes half-lidded, the same energy flickering across his fingers—your energy, Maru’s energy, indistinguishable now.

And yours?

It lived in both of them.

The bond had a name, once. Lost to time. A forbidden synchronization technique that merged curse cores instead of merely aligning them. Three souls. One circulation.

One name.

“Feel that?” Maru asked quietly, gaze shifting to you. “Your output spiked when you stepped forward.”

Cross smiled without humor. “Yeah. And when I get irritated, you both feel it. Annoying.”

You did feel it. A subtle tightening in your chest, the echo of Cross’s emotion threading itself into your own heartbeat. The connection never asked permission—it simply existed.

The elders called it a mistake.

You called it survival.

When one of you was injured, the others weakened. When one of you fought, the others lent strength. And when one of you reached for comfort—

It reached all three.

“You don’t belong to either of us alone,” Cross said, eyes locking onto yours. “That’s the rule.”

Maru nodded. “What’s mine is shared. Including you.”

There was no jealousy in his voice. Only certainty.

Because the bond didn’t allow ownership. It erased it.

You stepped closer, curse energy flaring instinctively as the triangle closed. Three auras braided into one—dark, unstable, beautiful. The air vibrated with it.

Enemies sensed it from miles away. Other sorcerers avoided it.

A three-headed curse, they whispered. A heresy. A living technique.

But standing there, between them, energy steady and shared—

You didn’t feel cursed.

You felt whole.

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