Sora stood alone on the Fallen Bridge.
Or what looked like it.
The landscape around her bent slightly when she moved—like a dream trying to remember itself. The stone beneath her boots didn't echo. The sky didn't breathe. The shadows were too still.
She knelt.
Touched the bridge.
Cold—but not natural cold.
This place was an approximation.
"You're not the Core," she whispered.
"You're the shell around it."
No response.
Not even from the mask she'd left behind.
But the air quivered—like something had just listened. Like it had been waiting for someone to say that exact thing.
She leaned closer to the edge of the bridge, staring into the swirling void below.
"You're the barrier. The in-between."
"But you're decaying. Glitching."
"Which means… you're afraid."
A voice stirred behind her ear.
Not the system.
Not the King.
Something older.
"Clever little flame."
Sora froze.
The void below the bridge shimmered—pixels warping, unraveling.
Something stirred deep beneath.
A shape.
A limb.
A face?
"They built me to protect the heart of this world," it said softly.
"But now the heart wants you to reach it."
Sora backed away. Her hand went to her wristband—still inert.
"So I ask," the voice cooed, "before they arrive—would you rather burn the King… or become one?"
Then, silence.
A gust of unreal wind scattered ash across the bridge.
And far ahead, two forms emerged:
Matthew, bloodied but walking strong.
Rin, bruised but standing.
The moment of solitude passed.
But something remained in Sora's eyes.
A glint.
A secret.
She had heard the true voice of the in-between.
And it had given her a choice.
One the others hadn't been offered.
Yet.