The gate opened like a breath held too long.
No noise. No grinding of stone. Just the parting of light and shadow — spirals rotating, peeling inward, until the space between worlds yawned open.
Serida didn't hesitate.
She stepped through.
The world on the other side didn't make sense. It wasn't space. It wasn't even memory. It was… emotion given form — guilt shaped into architecture, regret flowing through rivers of light, choices floating in the air like shattered glass.
She stood on a narrow bridge that had no visible end. Above her: nothing. Below her: everything.
Whispers chased each other across the infinite distance. Some sounded like Kael. Others like herself.
> "I tried to stop it…"
"She didn't deserve to die…"
"I loved her. I left her. I buried her name."
The bridge twisted beneath her feet, like it resented her presence. Her Echo — the Crown — had warned her: Time doesn't move here. Emotion does.
Serida pressed forward, every step digging through parts of herself she hadn't known were buried. A moment of doubt pulled her backward. A memory of holding Kael's hand — before another battle, before one of them vanished — pushed her onward.
Then she heard it.
His voice.
Not speaking. Screaming.
—
Kael stood at the edge of a precipice. The walls around him were mirrors, shifting in and out of existence. Each one showed a version of himself — twisted, broken, triumphant, monstrous.
One reflection showed him with a crown made of spirals, eyes devoid of light. Another showed him holding Serida's broken body.
One showed Lira turning away from him, her smile fading like the stars.
He didn't cry.
He couldn't.
The Core had taken that from him.
> "You carry the burden of a hundred lifetimes," the voice said.
"Why not let me carry it now?"
Kael turned toward the source — a figure cloaked in gold and shadow, faceless, rippling between forms.
> "I can fix the world," it said. "Just say yes.
And there will be no more Echoes.
No more death.
No more you."
Kael's hand trembled.
"Who… am I, really?" he asked.
The figure moved closer.
> "You are the beginning.
You are the one who broke the chain.
And I am the link that binds it again."
Kael staggered back.
Then, something broke through.
A voice.
Her voice.
> "Kael."
He froze.
That wasn't the Core.
That was Serida.
—
Serida pushed through the final veil — a membrane of flickering memory. It stung as she passed, burning away fragments of herself — dreams, regrets, old emotions. She let them fall.
All she cared about was reaching him.
The corridor opened, and she saw him.
Kael stood in a field of glass, surrounded by reflections. They whispered and swirled, each one pleading to be chosen, each one offering a different fate.
He didn't see her.
"Kael!" she called again, louder.
He turned — and his eyes weren't his.
They burned black and gold. His expression was calm, too calm. The calm of someone on the edge of surrender.
"Serida?" he said, voice distant. "Why are you here?"
"To bring you back."
He shook his head.
"There's nothing to come back to."
"You're wrong," she said, walking toward him slowly. "You have me. Lira. The truth. The chance to rewrite everything."
"The Core can do that better than I can."
Serida stepped in front of him. "Not without losing yourself."
Kael looked around — at the thousands of versions of himself reflected in the walls. "Maybe that's a good thing."
She reached out and grabbed his wrist.
His skin was cold.
"You are not this," she said, her voice fierce. "You are not a weapon. Not a god. You're Kael. You're the boy who kept a girl's name alive on a scroll. The man who ran into Grythvault with nothing but a broken memory and still fought. You're the reason we made it this far."
He blinked.
The reflections dimmed.
Serida pulled him closer.
"I know you're scared. I am too. But if you become this… if you let the Core devour you… we lose everything."
For a heartbeat, Kael saw it.
The real her.
Not the vision. Not a memory.
Serida.
Her eyes blazing. Her voice shaking. Her hand still holding his like it mattered.
"I'm not leaving without you," she said.
Kael trembled.
And for the first time… he stepped away from the edge.
The Core screamed.
Not in rage.
In loss.
> "You deny me," it said.
"You deny yourself."
Kael turned to face it. "No. I remember now. I didn't build you to save the world. I built you because I was afraid of it."
The Core paused.
"I won't be afraid anymore," he said. "And I won't let you decide for me."
Behind him, Serida's grip tightened.
The bridge began to collapse.
The mirrors cracked.
Kael looked at her. "You found me."
"I always do."
They ran together as the Core began to collapse inward — not destroyed, but retreating. It wouldn't die. It couldn't. But for now… it was denied.
And for the first time in lifetimes, Kael chose himself.