The autumn wind had shifted, carrying with it the scent of dried leaves and something more ancient, something whispering through the trees like echoes from a different world. Ayame stood still at the edge of the riverbank, her fingers brushing against the smooth surface of a strange locket Kael had left behind. She hadn't noticed it before—tucked away beneath her scarf, embedded with the faint shimmer of stardust.
The previous night's events replayed in her head like a fragmented dream: the flickering lights in the mirror, the cryptic message that unraveled itself letter by letter, Kael's name floating in golden ink. And now… this.
It clicked open with the softest *tick*, and her breath caught. Inside was a tiny, mechanical gear rotating slowly, suspended in glass. Surrounding it were faint etchings in a language she couldn't decipher. But the hum it emitted matched the exact frequency of the music box Kael had once gifted her in their last year of high school. It was no coincidence.
"I know this tune…" she whispered.
A voice behind her broke the silence.
"You were never meant to see that yet."
Ayame spun around, heart racing.
It was Rei, the transfer student who had always kept to himself, quiet and seemingly harmless. But now, his eyes glowed faintly. Not malicious, but… aware.
"You're part of it," Ayame said, more a realization than an accusation.
Rei nodded. "The Locket is part of the Archive. Only descendants of the Bound can hear it sing."
"What do you mean? Bound to what?"
"To the Aeon Circuit. To the worlds between here and there."
Her mind reeled. "I don't understand—Kael, he left this behind. I thought he just disappeared after graduation…"
Rei's gaze softened. "He didn't leave. He was taken. Or rather… chosen."
Ayame gripped the locket tighter, her pulse quickening.
"Why? And by whom?"
"There's no time to explain everything now," Rei said, eyes scanning the horizon. "But if you want answers, you'll have to come with me."
She didn't move.
"You trust me?" he asked gently.
Ayame looked down at the locket again. Then, slowly, she nodded.
---
The two slipped through the forest trail in silence, guided only by the waning light and the strange pulse of the gear inside the locket, which now glowed faintly with each step they took.
Eventually, they reached an abandoned train station—half swallowed by ivy, its rusted signs still bearing the name *Hoshimori*. The air buzzed here. The static was almost alive.
Rei pressed his palm against one of the pillars, and with a soft hum, a doorway slid open from stone that shouldn't have moved.
"What is this place?" Ayame whispered.
"An Echo Gate. We're not going far. Just to the other side."
Ayame hesitated. She thought of her mother, her half-packed dorm room, her unfinished final-year essay. But deep inside, something else pulsed—something that had long awaited this moment.
She stepped through the Gate.
---
They emerged somewhere… other.
The world was darker but laced with light veins in the sky, like cracks revealing galaxies beneath. Floating stones spun in slow orbits above a canyon of silence.
Ayame turned slowly, breath shallow.
"This… this is not Earth."
Rei smiled faintly. "Not anymore."
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew past them, carrying with it a voice—Kael's voice.
*"Ayame… if you found this place, it's already begun. Don't trust the Circuit. It's not what they told you."*
Ayame spun toward Rei.
His expression had changed.
"You weren't supposed to hear that," he said.
Her blood turned to ice.
"What are you hiding?" she demanded.
Rei's hand twitched, and the world around them began to shift—walls of reality warping like a mirage. The stars bent inward.
Ayame stepped back, hand on the locket.
And just as the last word Kael had spoken echoed in her mind—
*Run.*
—everything collapsed into light.
---
Ayame's body hit the ground hard.
Or… something that *felt* like the ground.
She coughed, pushing herself upright. The air here was thicker, humming like the inside of a tuned violin. Above her, the sky pulsed with soft indigo hues, crisscrossed with constellations that changed positions every time she blinked.
Rei was nowhere in sight.
She stood shakily, the locket now burning warm against her chest. Around her, the landscape resembled a mosaic—trees with crystalline leaves, water that flowed *upward*, and ruins of what looked like ancient architecture half-swallowed by nature and time.
"Kael…" she murmured. "What is this place?"
A sound—soft, like mechanical chimes—drew her attention. A shadow moved between the strange trees. She turned, heart hammering.
"I'm not here to hurt you," a voice said. Not Rei's. This one was clearer, calm, feminine.
A woman stepped out, draped in flowing robes woven with threads of starlight. Her hair shimmered silver, eyes glowing with twin galaxies.
"My name is Zephira," she said, bowing slightly. "Guardian of the Circuit's fracture."
Ayame's mind was on fire with confusion. "Rei brought me here. Then… something happened. He changed."
Zephira's expression dimmed.
"Rei is a Harbinger. One of those touched too deeply by the Circuit. It… alters intentions."
Ayame backed away. "I don't know what any of that means."
Zephira extended a hand gently.
"You will. But only if you see for yourself. The Archive has opened for you."
Ayame hesitated, her instincts tugging in a dozen directions. But she needed answers. For Kael. For herself.
She stepped closer.
The moment their fingers touched, a jolt of memory—not her own—flooded through her.
---
She was standing in a hall of stars, suspended in time. A council of beings with glowing robes spoke in a tongue that danced like music. One of them stepped forward—Kael.
But not Kael.
His eyes were different. Deeper. As if he had lived a hundred lifetimes in one year.
"She'll come for me," he was saying.
"She mustn't," one of the robed beings warned.
"If she doesn't, it ends. Everything does."
Their voices faded.
Ayame gasped, stumbling out of the vision.
Zephira steadied her. "You're connected. Stronger than most. That's why the Circuit chose you."
Ayame's voice was hoarse. "Where is he?"
Zephira looked up at the sky, where a single tear of light sliced the stars.
"Beyond the Divide. Past the Shifting Halls."
"And how do I get there?"
The woman smiled faintly.
"With courage. And a key."
---
Later, in a sanctuary that shimmered with mirrored walls, Ayame stood before a fountain of liquid memory. Zephira handed her a thin blade.
"Not to fight," she said. "But to focus. This world bends to will, but only when anchored by resolve."
Ayame studied her reflection in the blade.
She barely recognized herself anymore.
But for Kael… she'd walk through the Divide.
---
Elsewhere, across the vast unseen borders of this fractured realm, Kael stood in chains made of sound and time.
His eyes opened, and his lips formed her name.
"Ayame."
She was here.
He could feel her.
But so could *they*.
The Custodians of the Circuit turned toward him.
"It begins," one whispered.
Kael smiled grimly.
"She's not the girl you remember," another warned.
"No," Kael said. "She's stronger."
---
Ayame left the sanctuary with Zephira's parting words echoing in her ears.
"Trust only those who bleed real."
The trail ahead wound into a forest of illusions, each step reconfiguring itself like living origami.
She walked, blade sheathed, locket pulsing against her chest.
And then—
A familiar voice whispered through the leaves.
"...Ayame?"
She turned.
A boy stood in the shadows.
Familiar… but not Kael.
"Yuto?" she gasped.
He stepped into the moonlight.
"I've been looking for you," he said.
Ayame's mind spun. "But you were—back home—you…"
"I followed the signal. The same one Kael left behind."
Ayame's grip on the hilt tightened. "How did you *really* get here?"
Yuto didn't blink. "The locket wasn't the only key."
She stepped back. "Prove it."
Yuto raised his hand—and the space between them shimmered.
A projection appeared: Ayame and Kael, on the rooftop of their school, the day before he vanished. The moment they made the promise.
"I'd find you," Kael had said.
"I'd wait," she had replied.
Tears welled in her eyes.
"You have to hurry," Yuto said. "They're moving him to the Inner Core."
She blinked. "Why would they do that?"
Yuto's expression darkened.
"Because they've sensed the bond. The Archive fears it. Fears what it might awaken."
---
They traveled together, Yuto guiding them through unstable fragments of the realm, each segment testing her will—echoes of old fears, manipulated memories, even Kael's voice calling out to her in loops of false comfort.
But she pushed forward.
And when they reached the silver steps of the Inner Core, she paused.
The sky above churned like an ocean flipped upside down. Pillars of sound spiraled into clouds.
Ayame turned to Yuto.
"Stay behind."
He looked confused. "What?"
"If this is a trap, I'm not pulling you into it."
Yuto frowned. "I came this far for a reason."
She didn't argue.
She walked into the storm.
---
Inside the Core, everything was quiet. No guards. No defenses.
Only Kael.
Chained.
Still.
Eyes closed.
She ran to him, touched his face.
He opened his eyes.
"Ayame…"
She smiled through tears. "I found you."
But then—his eyes widened in horror.
"Ayame—*behind you*!"
She spun—
—and the Custodian stood there, arms spread, golden eyes glowing.
"Two pieces of the Circuit," it whispered. "Together again. Now… the Gate opens."
The ground trembled.
Ayame reached for the locket.
Kael tried to move, but the chains held.
The Custodian raised a hand—
And the world shattered.