The darkness that slithered from the mural's crack was unlike anything Ayame had ever seen. It wasn't a shape—it was an *absence* of one. A void made sentient. The air itself seemed to recoil from its presence, curling backward like waves retreating from a storm.
Kael stepped in front of Ayame, instinct tightening his shoulders. "What *is* that?"
The Custodian didn't answer immediately. She was staring into the fissure, her face pale. "That… that's a fragment of the Forgotten One."
Ayame's heartbeat stuttered. "The what?"
"The name we gave to the piece of divinity the stars tried to erase. Something that *should* have stayed buried." The Custodian's voice lowered. "Your memory unlocked more than your past, Ayame. You cracked the seals that bound this place."
The void-thing pulsed. No eyes, no mouth—but they all felt it *looking.*
"Kael," Ayame whispered. "If this thing's from my past…"
"Then we finish what you started."
The Spire trembled again as the void surged forward.
Kael reacted first. He summoned his will, a burst of bright blue light coiling around his palm like living flame. It was instinct, barely trained, but potent.
He hurled it at the creature.
It *screamed.*
Not a sound—more like every regret, every mistake, every loss Kael had ever known echoing back at him. He staggered, nearly dropping to his knees.
Ayame steadied him, one arm tight around his waist. "We fight it *together.*"
She lifted the pendant the echo of herself had given her. It shimmered now—bright, wild, and hot. The swirl inside spun faster, drawing threads of starlight from the air.
Ayame closed her eyes and poured her memory into it.
Her first spell.
The night Kael smiled at her under the bleachers.
Their fingers touching for the first time in that almost-kiss.
The snowball fight.
Her mother's lullaby.
The way Kael had said her name like it was a promise.
The pendant burst open.
A shockwave of light thundered out, casting the void-thing back into the fissure with a crack like splitting mountains.
Silence.
Then… slowly, the chamber settled.
The mural crumbled.
And the void was gone.
Or… hiding.
The Custodian knelt beside the shattered pendant. "You've changed the timeline again."
Kael caught Ayame as she stumbled, her strength spent. "What does that mean?"
"It means…" the Custodian hesitated, "there are other things that will notice. You didn't just wake a ghost, you *lit a beacon.*"
Ayame rested her forehead against Kael's chest, her voice thin. "Then let them come."
---
They didn't leave the Spire immediately.
Ayame needed time, and the Custodian insisted they use the sanctuary of the archive before moving on. They found a quiet alcove within a broken spiral of stone—walls painted with memories of things that never happened.
Kael laid his coat on the ground and helped Ayame sit.
She was still trembling.
"Cold?" he asked softly.
She nodded.
Kael wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "You scared me, you know. I thought we were going to lose you again."
Ayame's fingers curled into his shirt. "I thought I'd lose *myself.* That thing—it whispered *my name* before it vanished. Not Ayame. Not Liora. *Both.*"
Kael pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You're you. No matter what your past is."
She looked up at him, her silver-blue eyes glassy. "What if my past is darker than we thought?"
He held her tighter. "Then we make new memories brighter than anything that came before."
She smiled faintly. "When did you get so poetic?"
"Probably around the time I fell in love with a girl who breaks time."
Ayame laughed—a real laugh this time—and kissed him.
It was soft at first, a reassurance more than passion. But then her hand moved to his jaw, fingers trailing down his neck. His breath hitched. The fire between them—buried, smothered by fear and battles and memories—flickered back to life.
They broke apart a moment later, foreheads pressed together.
Ayame whispered, "I'm not ready to lose this. Any of it."
Kael nodded. "Then we fight."
---
Later that night, Kael sat alone outside the alcove, watching a sky that shifted between constellations and memories. The Custodian joined him, sitting cross-legged in the dust.
"You love her," she said, not as a question.
He nodded. "I do."
"You realize that means you'll suffer more than anyone else in what's coming?"
Kael looked at her. "That's a risk I've already taken."
The Custodian studied him for a long moment. "There's a place where your next answers lie. An oasis of echoes. The Garden of the First Light."
Kael frowned. "Sounds pleasant."
"It isn't. It's where all timelines converge briefly. A place even the stars refuse to step into unless they must."
"And we must?"
"You must," she corrected. "She's going to need something from there. A relic that will let her *rewrite* part of what's coming."
Kael stood, brushing off his jeans. "Then we go in the morning."
But before he could turn, the ground beneath them cracked.
The stars above blinked out.
And from the shadows, a *voice* emerged.
Familiar.
Unmistakable.
Ayame's voice.
But twisted.
"You should have left me buried."
Kael turned.
And standing in the hallway behind him was Ayame again.
Another version.
But this one's eyes glowed red.
And she was smiling.
---