"The Choir does not kill. It erases.But what happens when the erased comes back… remembering?"
She woke beneath a sky that had no stars.
A sky painted black not by cloud or storm—but by absence.
Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, the world rippled with her own heartbeat.
She remembered nothing.
Except a name.
Kaien.
Not spoken.
Burned.
The girl walked through the Mirrorhymn Path—where the Severance Choir trained their deadliest: not warriors, not assassins, but unremembered blades. Her bare feet made no sound. The mist bent away from her. Her reflection in the silver pools held no face.
Above her, the Hollow-Eyed Witch whispered through the vaults of memory:
"You were once his. You followed him before he bore flame."
"You bled for him in the Ashen East. You broke your core defending him."
"He remembers you. You do not."
"Now we give you a name: Nyel."
"And you will take his."
Nyel did not speak.
She walked to the edge of the Severance Vault and knelt before the Flame of Unmaking.
It touched her brow.
And her soul—what was left—unfolded.
[Severance Choir Directive: Codename Nyel]
Former Sect: [Redacted]
Former Name: [Redacted]
System: Unbound Severance Echo
Talent: Ashlink Memory Blade
Skill: "Echo Sever / Memory Bind"
Directive: "Observe. Erase. Return."
She crossed the Dreamfire Wastes in less than a day.
Where Kaien's Hollow sparked hope—she walked through burned towns and forgotten battlefields. Places where his fire had not reached.
And the closer she came, the more the name on her tongue trembled.
"Kaien…"
It hurt to say it.
But not because she feared him.
Because something inside her remembered loving him.
At the Hollow's edge, she did not hide.
She stood just beyond the border of flame—where the Oathstone's veil turned to mist.
Kaien was already there.
He stepped from the grove, not in war-form, but in silence.
His eyes locked on hers.
He froze.
"No," he whispered.
"You were gone."
Nyel tilted her head. Her voice, when it came, was thin. Hollow.
"You remember me."
"I do."
"Then why did you let them take me?"
Behind them, Seren appeared, hand already ablaze in dreamfire.
"Who is she?"
Kaien did not look away from Nyel.
"She was my sword," he said.
"She saved me when I was nothing."
"And I failed her."
Nyel raised her hand.
"I am not your sword now."
"I am the Choir's blade."
"And I've come to see if your flame deserves to remember me."
She attacked.
No warning.
Not flame—but memory itself.
Kaien stepped backward into the strike—not dodging, but catching it.
Nyel's blade sank into his shoulder—not steel, but a thread of forgotten pain, a severance of something he had long buried.
He gasped.
"You remember the alley."
She faltered.
The blade flickered.
"You were seventeen," Kaien said, breath hitching."I was dying. You picked me up and said…"
Nyel's hand trembled.
"…'Even a gutter flame can light something.'"
For a heartbeat—
She remembered.
And the Choir screamed through her bones.
[Severance Directive Corrupted – System Recoil Initiated]
She fell to one knee.
Blood from nowhere.
Memories flooding in—of fireless nights, of laughter, of rage, of love not named.
Kaien approached slowly.
"You are not a weapon."
"You are my friend."
But the Choir had no patience for redemption.
Across the sky, the Hollow-Eyed Witch appeared—projected through flame, her hands raised.
"Nyel is ours."
"She was yours," Kaien said."Now, she chooses."
Nyel rose, staggering.
She looked at Kaien.
Then at her own hands.
At the blade in them, flickering, confused.
"I don't know who I am."
Kaien knelt beside her.
"Then stay. And find out."
"We build who we are here. From ash."
The projection hissed.
"If she stays, we come in force."
Kaien smiled coldly.
"Then bring your Choir."
"And I'll show you what a Sovereign's silence sounds like."
The flame flared.
The mist burned.
Nyel collapsed into his arms.
She did not know if she was an enemy or a friend.
But she knew he remembered her.
And now, she would remember him too.