In a world without time, memory becomes both weapon and refuge."
Darkness had color in Abyssia.
Not the absence of light—but the presence of layered voids. Crimson-black walls bled into violet skies that never changed. The very ground breathed beneath their feet, sighing with a sadness so ancient it could only belong to a world that had forgotten how to die.
Jun Mo Xie stood alone. Again.
No sound, no movement, only the slow unraveling of his thoughts as he struggled to remember who he was. His name echoed in the corners of his mind like a forgotten song.
"I am… Jun Mo Xie. Monarch of Shadows…"
The words lacked meaning here.
He wandered through fractured streets, lined with statues whose faces were blank slates. Buildings bent at impossible angles. Reflections moved on their own. Every corner whispered his failures.
"You couldn't save them," one wall breathed.
"You're a fraud," a mirror hissed.
A shadow stepped into view—a version of him, cloaked in sorrow, eyes dimmed with regret. It raised its hand, and Jun flinched as pain spiked through his ribs.
A wound—memories made flesh.
"No," he whispered. "Not this time."
He clenched his fist and began to hum—a low, stubborn note that grew with defiance. The echoing voices retreated.
He remembered Lirael's song, Yue Ling's gaze, Fei Yan's mocking laughter. These fragments wrapped around his soul like armor.
And he walked forward.
Elsewhere, in a floating shard of Abyssia, Mei Yun awoke surrounded by books—millions of them, each bearing her name.
She picked one up. The pages were blank.
Another showed a twisted version of her life—where she had betrayed Jun, allied with the Conductor, ruled as Empress of the Silence.
A third was even worse—she was forgotten completely.
"No," she said aloud, flipping through volumes, her hands shaking. "This is not my truth."
Her memory-book floated before her. Unlike the others, it was bound with light and song. Its pages hummed with her real past.
She clutched it to her chest, shut her eyes, and chanted her name.
A door opened in the sky.
She stepped through.
Yue Ling had it worse.
Abyssia twisted her past into blades. She walked a path of corpses—all those she had failed: her brother, her squad, even a child she once protected in a burning village.
Each figure rose, accusing her.
"You survived. We didn't."
She screamed. Attacked. Fled.
But no matter how far she ran, the corpses followed.
Until she heard a single, trembling note.
Lirael's voice.
She stopped. Closed her eyes.
And remembered the spear in her hand.
She turned. Stood tall.
"I remember who I am."
She struck the ground.
And the dead crumbled into flowers.
Fei Yan found herself in a gambling den lit by stars. Everyone in the room had her face.
All versions of herself—liars, thieves, killers, queens.
Each one tried to seduce, confuse, outwit her.
She leaned on the table and laughed.
"This the best you've got?"
They lunged at her.
She blew them a kiss, leapt backward, and threw a card that exploded in symphonic fire.
"Your bluff sucks. I fold."
The dream shattered.
In the central layer, Lirael hovered above a pool of un-sound—liquid that consumed every note that touched it.
But her fingers danced in the air, conjuring the thread of her song.
From every corner, her allies were pulled toward her. One by one, they emerged from the dark, bathed in harmony.
Jun landed beside her, bruised but smiling.
"You held the melody."
She nodded. "Barely."
Then the pool below screamed.
From it rose Abyssia's Warden—a creature made of coiled regret and memory-tendrils. Faces formed and unformed along its body. Eyes blinked open in places where no eyes should exist.
"Not another bearer," it growled.
"You will not awaken another note!"
Lan Xue struck first, leaping down with a blade of refracted ice. Her strike carved a path of clarity through the fog.
Fei Yan followed, hurling twin daggers inscribed with living notes.
Mei Yun lifted her book—pages tore themselves free and formed shields of harmony.
Yue Ling summoned a harmonic pulse that staggered the Warden back.
Jun sang again—but this time it was a call, not a battle cry.
Lirael joined, forming a bridge of light between herself and the abyss.
Within the Warden, a soul responded.
A young woman—trapped, forgotten, barely clinging to herself. She sang back.
"I am not your prisoner. I am… Nariah."
The Warden shrieked.
But now it was Nariah's face that emerged from its chest—eyes wide, voice clear.
"I remember now."
A beam of pure resonance tore through the beast.
The Warden shattered—dissolving into mist.
Nariah collapsed, trembling—but alive.
Jun caught her. "Another bearer?"
Lirael nodded. "Second of twelve."
But the battle wasn't over.
From the deepest fold of the abyss, a second entity rose—The Echoleech, a parasite that fed not on sound or silence, but on the spaces between.
Lirael gasped. "No... it wasn't just the Warden keeping her trapped."
Jun asked, "What is it?"
Rhialen appeared beside him, grave. "A soul-leech. It drinks echoes and turns memory into lies."
The Echoleech shimmered with mirrored faces—twisted mockeries of the group. Each warrior now faced a warped version of themselves.
Yue Ling fought a killer version of herself.
Lan Xue battled her emotionless double.
Mei Yun faced a tyrannical version.
Fei Yan confronted a greedy traitor.
Jun looked into the eyes of a shadow who ruled the Symphony alone.
The fights were not just physical—but emotional.
Jun's twin said, "You could save everything. If only you took control."
Jun replied, "Control isn't harmony."
With a hum of humility, his shadow broke apart.
Each warrior triumphed—not by strength, but by remembrance.
The Echoleech shrieked, weakened.
Lirael and Nariah joined hands, their voices merging.
Rhialen sang the Key of Dissolution.
And the creature imploded—forever silent.
At the lake's edge, Nariah whispered, "I remember my song."
Jun nodded. "That's two."
Rhialen warned, "The Conductor is watching."
Jun looked to the constellation map.
A third world glowed—drums, fire, war.
He turned to his team. "We rest tonight."
Then to t
he stars, he whispered:
"We bring the melody to the mute,
And harmony to the chained."
To be continued