---
They emerged into blinding white.
For a moment, Ayame thought they'd been dropped into pure nothingness—an infinite blank canvas. But as her eyes adjusted, she saw them: faint silhouettes moving through the haze, like memories not fully formed. The air smelled faintly of lavender and electricity.
"Where… are we now?" Kael asked, squinting against the light.
Yui hovered just off the ground, her cloak rippling like it was caught in a soft breeze. "The Liminal Spire. A forgotten place between decisions, where the universe stores its unspoken questions."
Kael snorted. "You really love these poetic in-between realms, don't you?"
Yui ignored him. "This place houses what the world forgets—people, powers, possibilities. But something's off. It's too quiet."
They moved cautiously. The ground felt like silk underfoot—solid yet shifting, like standing on woven moonlight.
In the distance, a tower loomed, barely visible through the fog. Its edges flickered, refusing to fully solidify.
"That's the Spire," Ayame said, eyes narrowing. "That's where the seventh key is."
"The final one," Yui confirmed.
Kael gave her a dry look. "And I assume it won't just let us waltz in and pick it up."
Yui didn't answer.
Instead, she turned to Ayame. "This is the final crossroad. Once we reach the key, your bond—yours and Kael's—will be tested. If it fractures… the world fractures with it."
Ayame met Kael's gaze. "Then we hold on tighter."
Kael smiled. "Like hell I'm letting go now."
They pressed on.
As they neared the tower, the light began to shift. Shapes took form around them—echoes of familiar faces. Friends. Teachers. Even their own parents, standing still as statues.
But none of them moved.
"These aren't real," Kael whispered. "They're… leftovers."
"Memories that lost their meaning," Yui murmured.
Then something stepped out from behind a frozen figure.
A boy. Pale hair. Hollow eyes.
He looked almost human—almost—but something in his smile twisted wrong.
"Ayame," he said, his voice like bells dropped underwater. "You finally came."
She stared. "Who are you?"
"You forgot me," he said with a mock pout. "But I remember *you*. You were going to save me once. You promised."
"I never met you."
He tilted his head. "Not here. But in another thread, you reached me before the fall. You gave up your key to bring me back. And the world ended anyway."
Kael stepped forward, hand on his sword. "What do you want?"
The boy's smile widened. "To remind her what happens when she chooses wrong."
He raised a hand.
Around them, the air bent. The frozen memories began to *move*—jerky, puppet-like motions. Their expressions melted into horror. They began to scream.
Ayame clutched her head. "No—make it stop!"
Kael shouted over the din. "This isn't real! Ayame, don't let it in!"
Yui reached for her, forming a shield of light. "It's feeding on doubt. That boy—he's not just a leftover. He's a Fractureborn."
Ayame forced her eyes open, locking onto the boy.
"You're not my failure," she said.
His face cracked like porcelain.
"I *was*," he whispered. "And I still could be."
With a howl, he launched toward her—but Kael met him halfway, blade drawn. The impact sent both of them sliding across the glowing floor.
Ayame threw out her hand, focusing. The scroll in her pouch burned with heat, releasing a burst of violet light.
The boy shrieked and recoiled.
"I choose *this* path!" Ayame shouted. "No more what-ifs!"
The memories dissolved into dust.
The boy's form flickered—briefly showing a hundred faces, all of them versions of people Ayame might have known, saved, or failed.
Then he vanished.
Silence fell.
Kael staggered back to her, bruised but grinning. "You're scary when you get shouty."
Ayame punched his arm. "You were *almost* cool for once."
Yui cleared her throat. "We need to move. The Spire is fully visible now. And the key won't stay dormant forever."
They turned to the tower.
It now stood tall, made of glass and stormlight, surrounded by swirling fragments of constellations.
They entered.
Inside was one chamber.
No staircases, no traps—just a pedestal of white stone, and hovering above it, a shard of pure radiance: the final key.
Ayame stepped toward it. Her fingers trembled.
Kael touched her shoulder. "Ready?"
"No," she said. "But I'm going anyway."
She reached out—
And the Spire pulsed.
Suddenly, *he* was there.
The Custodian.
Or a version of him.
His cloak flowed like ink spilled across the stars. His face was unreadable.
"This is your last chance," he said. "The moment you touch that key, the Dream will fracture and rebuild. You must know what that means."
Kael took Ayame's hand. "We don't need warnings. We've made our choice."
The Custodian tilted his head. "Then make it."
Ayame's fingers closed around the key.
Light exploded outward.
But instead of warmth, *cold* flooded her veins.
A voice whispered inside her head—not hers.
"You took the final thread. Now weave the end."
The tower began to tremble.
Outside, reality shifted.
The Dream was reshaping itself.
Ayame looked up at Kael, her eyes shining with stardust—and terror.
"I think… I think I just became the loom."
---