The chamber pulsed with soft, golden light. It was beautiful in the way poison sometimes looked beautiful—inviting, disarming. The illusions swam across the walls like living paintings, curling smoke into the shapes of memories and dreams.
Seraphina's heart faltered as the first images sharpened.
Her parents.
Alive, unscarred, sitting at their kitchen table as though the fire that had devoured them had been nothing more than a bad dream. Her mother's laugh rang out, clear and light. Her father looked up, eyes warm with that unshakable pride that had always been hers.
She swayed. For a heartbeat, she almost moved forward. Almost reached for them.
"Elijah's right," Mei's voice snapped through the haze, brittle with control. "None of it's real."
But Mei's eyes betrayed her, darting toward the vision of a boy with jade-green eyes—someone Seraphina didn't know but Mei clearly did. He beckoned her softly, like a promise.
Riv cursed, dragging her braid over her shoulder, but her face had gone pale. "It's using everything. Memories. Regrets. Things we'd give anything to change."
Kaelina fell to her knees. "Aedan?" she whispered, fingers outstretched toward a ghost that wore her brother's smile.
The chamber hummed, sensing weakness.
It was Tobias who fell first.
He laughed, sharp and manic, at the illusion shimmering before him—a version of himself, but older, polished, draped in power. Surrounded by admirers. Respected. Feared.
The perfect version of the boy who never took anything seriously.
"I could be this," Tobias muttered, stepping closer, his grin twisting. "I could finally stop being the failure at the edge of the room."
The illusion smirked back, tilting its head. All you have to do is let go.
"Stop!" Riv barked, lunging forward, but Tobias shoved her back with a force that wasn't his own. Shadows from the chamber coiled around him, tethering him closer to the false self.
Seraphina's stomach lurched. If they lost Tobias, the sanctum would consume him—and none of them could afford another fracture.
"Elijah!" she cried.
But Elijah was already moving, shadows slicing the tether. Tobias screamed, thrashing, his eyes glowing with borrowed light.
Seraphina didn't think. She hurled her magic like fire, golden and black, colliding with Elijah's shadows in a storm of force. Together, they ripped the illusion apart, tearing it from Tobias before it could swallow him whole.
He collapsed, gasping, hands trembling. His grin was gone, stripped bare.
"Don't," Riv hissed, shaking him hard enough to rattle bone. "Don't you dare give it what it wants."
For once, Tobias didn't argue.
But the sanctum wasn't done.
The illusions shifted, the smoke curling until Seraphina found herself staring at—herself.
Not a twisted reflection this time, not a shadow with burning eyes. No. This version of her was… peaceful. Whole. She stood at the edge of a meadow, sunlight in her hair, her parents behind her, Elijah at her side. No Vault. No trials. No death.
A life she'd never known. A life she'd kill to have.
Her knees buckled, the shard in her hand vibrating like it knew her weakness.
"You could have this," the illusion whispered, her own voice laced with aching gentleness. "You don't need to fight anymore. Just… stop. Let us take it."
Her body swayed toward it. Every muscle screamed with longing. To stop carrying the weight. To stop being the girl bound to balance fire and shadow until it broke her.
A hand seized her arm.
"Elijah," she gasped, snapping out of the haze as his grip burned steadiness into her skin.
His eyes locked onto hers, fierce, unyielding. "Don't let it choose for you. This isn't you, Seraphina."
Her lips trembled. "But what if it should be?"
"Then I'll remind you of who you are until you believe it again." His voice was raw, stripped of all the iron he usually wrapped around it. "You are not meant for easy. You're meant for fire. And you don't get to quit on me."
The illusion's smile wavered as Seraphina inhaled, her chest aching with something sharp and alive. She raised her glowing arms, channeling every scrap of rage, grief, and love into the light.
The vision shattered, dissolving like smoke.
But the sanctum shifted again.
Now Mei stood frozen, her face cracked open with something Seraphina had never seen in her before—longing.
The boy with jade-green eyes appeared again, stepping out of the smoke with a tenderness that hurt to look at. His voice carried across the chamber, low and reverent. "You could come home, Mei. You don't have to fight anymore."
"Who is that?" Kaelina demanded, but Mei ignored her. Her entire body shook as the boy extended a hand.
"My brother," Mei whispered, voice breaking. "He was taken by the Vault years ago. He's—he's gone."
The sanctum pulsed, feeding off her grief. The boy stepped closer. "Not gone. Just waiting. Choose me, Mei. We can be whole again."
Seraphina's chest tightened. The sanctum wasn't just tempting them—it was cruel. It knew what knives to twist.
Mei swayed forward.
"No!" Riv snapped, but Seraphina was already moving. She seized Mei's shoulders, forcing her to look away.
"He isn't real," Sera said fiercely. "And if you give in, we lose you too."
Tears streaked down Mei's face, silent, furious. But she let Sera drag her back, the illusion fading with a hiss of disappointment.
Mei's eyes went cold, hardened like steel. "When this is over," she whispered, "I'm burning this sanctum to the ground."
The chamber grew darker, illusions swirling faster, feeding on their exhaustion. Every wall writhed with visions—lives they could have had, futures they craved, people they had lost.
It was overwhelming, relentless.
Kaelina sobbed openly as her brother's voice begged her to stay. Riv gritted her teeth, hands shaking as her dead mentor appeared before her. Tobias clutched his head, mumbling curses, trying to drown out the endless whispers.
And through it all, Seraphina felt the sanctum's gaze fixate on her.
She realized with a sick twist of her stomach—it wasn't interested in splitting them apart one by one. It wanted to shatter her.
Because if Seraphina Cole broke, the Circle would follow.
The illusions converged, her parents, her double, the life without fire—all layered over one another until she could barely breathe.
Her knees hit the stone. The shard pulsed violently, almost screaming.
"Seraphina!" Elijah's voice cut through the cacophony, fierce, urgent. His hand was on her shoulder, grounding her. "Look at me. Just me."
She tried, but the illusions clawed at her mind. "I can't—"
"Yes, you can." His voice dropped lower, rough, intimate. "You are stronger than this. You've carried all of us this far. But right now—right now, I need you to let me carry you."
The words cracked something open inside her. He wasn't ordering. He wasn't demanding. He was begging.
And for the first time, Seraphina let herself lean into him.
Their magic collided, gold and shadow fusing into a storm that tore through the illusions like wildfire. Smoke dissolved, screams echoed, and the chamber trembled as the sanctum cracked under their combined will.
Light exploded, blinding and raw.
When it cleared, the illusions were gone. Only a single crystal remained at the center of the chamber, pulsing softly.
The key.
The Circle staggered, battered and broken but alive. Kaelina wiped her eyes, refusing to look at anyone. Tobias muttered something about needing a drink, his voice hollow. Mei's jaw was set, hard enough to cut glass. Riv moved to steady her, silent but fierce.
Seraphina stood, the shard warm in her palm, her chest heaving. The storm in her veins hadn't quieted—it had only grown.
She looked at Elijah.
For once, he didn't look away. His eyes burned, not with command or restraint, but with something deeper, rawer.
"Not yet," he said again. But this time, his voice shook.
And Seraphina realized the words weren't just about them.
They were about the war, the Vault, the storm waiting to break.
Because "not yet" was all they had left.