The abyss swallowed him whole.
Ethan's scream tore through the endless dark as the ground vanished beneath his hands. Light fractured above him like glass breaking in slow motion, shards of radiance tumbling after his falling body. His grip slipped on nothing but air, his chest burning with the certainly that this was the end.
"Elara!" His voice was a ragged cry, carried upward into the void, but no answer came.
The Shadow's words clung to him, coiling tighter than the darkness itself: You cannot save her. You never will.
And then, impact.
He hit not stone, not the Tower's shifting floor, but something softer. His lungs seized as he jolted upright, heart hammering against his ribs. For a moment, the world tilted. His vision blurred with white light, his ears ringing from the fall.
Then the haze cleared.
He was sitting on the floor of his apartment. The familiar worn couch loomed to one side, the stack of unopened bills scattered across the coffee table. The faint hum of the fridge filled the silence. The air smelled of stale coffee and dust.
For a moment, Ethan could only stare. His chest rose and fell in ragged gasps. The Tower was gone. The abyss was gone.
But in his hand...
He was still clutching Elara's sword.
The steel trembled as though alive, humming faintly with the same rhythm as the shard that now lay a few inches away, dim but pulsing.
"No," Ethan whispered, his voice raw. His fingers tightened on the hilt. "No, this,. this can't be real."
"Ethan?"
The voice froze him harder than the abyss had. He lifted his head slowly.
Sofia stood in the doorway of the small kitchen, her face pale and drawn. She wore the same loose shirt she always did when she couldn't sleep, her hair tied back in a messy knot. But her eyes, her eyes carried something between relief and anger, like a storm that had finally found ground to strike.
"You're,.." She stepped closer, her hand trembling as it covered her mouth. "You're back."
Ethan blinked. "Back?"
"You've been gone," Sofia whispered. Her voice cracked on the word. "Two days, Ethan. Two days, no calls, no text, no, nothing. Do you have any idea what that did to me?"
Two days.
His stomach dropped.
The Tower hadn't just torn him apart inside, it had stolen time.
He tried to speak, but his throat locked. The glow of the shard on the floor caught his eye. In the dim light of the apartment, it was faint, but unmistakable.
Ethan shoved it into his pocket before Sofia could notice, pushing himself unsteadily to his feet. His knees felt weak, like they still remembered the fall.
"I..." His voice faltered. "I don't know what happened."
Sofia's gaze hardened. "That's all you have to say?"
He wanted to explain, to tell her everything, the Tower, the abyss, Elara's scream still echoing in his skull, but the words withered in his mouth. How could he tell her when he didn't even understand it himself?
Instead, he gripped the sword tighter. The steel shimmered faintly, hidden against his leg. Proof that it wasn't just a dream.
Sofia stepped closer, her eyes wet with exhaustion and anger. "You can't keep disappearing on me, Ethan. On us. You can't."
Her voice cracked into silence.
And for the first time since the abyss, Ethan's heart ached with something heavier than fear.
He wasn't free of the Tower. He was caught between two prisons.
Ethan swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat refused to move. He tried to look at Sofia, to meet her eyes, but all he could see was the reflection of Elara's terrified face as the Tower swallowed her.
"I didn't mean to," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sofia gave a sharp, humorless laugh. "You never do, do you? That's the problem."
Her word landed like blows he had no strength to dodge. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't like before, that this wasn't him choosing work over her, or running away from responsibilities. But what was he supposed to say? I was trapped in a nightmare Tower between worlds. I watched shadows wear your face.
She turned away, bracing a hand against the kitchen counter. "You've been gone two days. Do you know how many times I thought about calling the cops? about telling your brother to drag you out of whatever hole you'd crawled into?"
Ethan opened his mouth, then shut it. His pulse was thundering in his ears. The shard in his pocket pulsed once, twice, faintly against his thigh. He curled a hand over it as if he could smother the glow.
"Elara..." he whispered before he could stop himself.
Sofia's head snapped toward him. "What?"
His stomach twisted. The name hung in the air like a curse, and he couldn't take it back
Sofia's eyes narrowed, her face tightening in pain. "Who the hell is Elara?"
Ethan stumbled for words. "It's not,.. She's not,.." He dragged a hand through his hair, but the excuses wouldn't come. Because how could he explain a bond forged in a place that shouldn't exist? How could he say the name without making it real?
Sofia's silence was worse than her anger.
She stepped back, her lips pressed tight, and for a moment Ethan saw her not as his partner but as a stranger, someone slipping away from him inch by inch, and he didn't know how to stop it.
The shard flared again. Then mark at his wrist burned faintly beneath his sleeve, hidden from her but searing against his skin. He clenched his fist to smother the pain, to pretend it wasn't there.
But he knew what it meant. The Tower hadn't let him go. Not fully.
And if the Tower still held him... it still held Elara.
Switch: Elara's Awakening
Elara's scream faded into a ragged whisper as her knees gave out. She braced her hands against cold store, the pedestal shuddering beneath her touch. Light seared across her vision, then darkness.
When she blinked again, she was lying on a narrow bed. Her bed.
The familiar cracked ceiling loomed overhead, the faint smell of damp wood and dust filling her lungs. She sat up sharply, her heart hammering. Her sword, her blade that belonged to no world she knew, lay across her lap.
She reached for the crescent mark on her wrist. It glowed faintly, a ghost of the fire that had burned in the Tower. Not gone. Never gone.
Her room was exactly as it had been: the chipped dresser, the pile of clothes slumped in the corner, the single mirror propped against the wall. Unbroken. Whole
Elara rose slowly, crossing the floor on unsteady legs. She pressed her palm against the mirror. Cool glass met her skin. No cracks. No blood. No whispers.
She exhaled, her breath fogging faintly against the surface.
A knock jolted her.
"Elara?"
The voice froze her blood. Familiar. Too familiar.
Rowan.
Her hand tightened on the sword hilt. She backed away from the mirror as the door creaked open.
Rowan stepped inside, his dark eyes scanning her with practiced ease. His expression was unreadable, concern, curiosity, maybe even relief, but she didn't trust any of it.
"You've been gone for hours." he said, his voice low and smooth. "Where were you?"
Her grip tightened. Don't believe him. Don't let him in.
But the mark at her wrist pulsed once, faint and insistent, as though reminding her: Ethan is still out there.
And suddenly, Rowan's presence felt less like an interrogation, and more like a trap.
Ethan
Sofia hadn't moved. Her eyes drilled into him, waiting for an answer he couldn't give.
"Who is she?" she asked again, voice quieter this time, but sharper.
Ethan's mouth went dry. His mind spun, searching for words that wouldn't sound insane. She's not from here. She's not supposed to exist. She's..
"I can't explain," he said finally, hating the way it sounded, cowardly, evasive.
Sofia's lips parted, hurt flickering through her eyes. "Then don't expect me to wait around for the explanation,"
Her hand tightened on the counter, knuckles pale. "You vanish for two days. You come back with some story you won't tell. And now there's another woman's name on your tongue. Tell me, Ethan, what the hell am I supposed to think?"
The shard in his pocket pulsed again, harder this time, heat biting through the fabric. His wrist mark burned like fire. Elara's scream echoed in his head, refusing to die.
He forced his voice steady. "She's not,.." His throat closed, the truth trapped behind fear. "It's not what you think."
"Then what is it?" Sofia demanded.
The silence that followed was worse than lie.
Ethan looked at her, at the woman who had stood by him through every collapse, every mistake, every burden he carried and drooped anyway. Her eyes glistened with tears she wouldn't shed in front of him.
He wanted to reach for her. To swear that none of this would tear them apart. But the mark on his wrist throbbed again, and for one brutal moment, he wished she could feel it, so she'd understand that this wasn't about betrayal, but about survival.
Instead, he whispered, "I'm sorry,"
Sofia turned away. Her silence said more than words ever could.
Elara
Rowan lingered in the doorway, his presence too casual to be real. He leaned against the frame, folding his arms.
"Hours, Elara. Do you know how worried I was?"
She gripped her sword tighter, the leather-wrapped hilt grounding her. "You were never worried. Not about me."
A smirk touched his lips, faint but cutting. "That's not fair."
Her pulse quickened. Not real. Not him. But the floor under her feet felt solid, the cracked ceiling above her unchanged. If this was another illusion, it was crueler than the Tower's mirrors.
Rowan stepped closer, slow, deliberate. "You're bleeding," he said, his eyes flicking to the shallow cuts still etched across her arms. "What happened?"
Elara's breath hitched, She backed away until her shoulder brushed the mirror. The crescent mark on her wrist pulsed hot beneath her skin, glowing faintly in the dim room.
Rowan's gaze followed it, narrowing. "That mark..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "You never told me about that."
Her chest tightened. She raised her sword, the point hovering between them. "Stay away from me."
For the first time, his expression cracked. His smirk fade into something sharper, colder.
"I know you," he said, his tone low and certain. "You'll push him away, just like you pushed me. It's only a matter of time."
Her grip faltered, memories flooding, his betrayal, her fury, the lies that had shattered her trust. But another memory burned brighter: Ethan's hand reaching for her in the Tower, his voice calling her name.
She steadied the blade, "Not this time."
The mirror behind her rippled, faint light pulsing across its surface. Her mark seared in response. For a heartbeat, she thought she saw Ethan's silhouette in the glass, falling, vanishing into darkness.
Her chest clenched.
Rowan tilted his head, watching her, and whispered, "He's already gone."
Ethan
He couldn't breathe. The apartment walls felt too close, too heavy. Sofia's silence pressed on him like another trial, one he couldn't win.
The shard burned in his pocket, demanding, insistent. His mark seared hotter, until it was agony just to keep it hidden.
"Elara..." he murmured again, the name an anchor he couldn't throw away.
Sofia heard it. She flinched as if struck, then left the room without another word, the sound of her footsteps sharp against the floorboards
Ethan sank onto the couch, the sword heavy across his knees. His chest heaved. He pressed his palm over his wrist, as if he could smother the mark, silence its call.
But deep inside, he already knew the truth.
The Tower hadn't released him. It had only shown him what was at stake.
And somewhere, whether in the Tower, in the abyss, or trapped between worlds, Elara was still fighting
He couldn't let her fight alone.
Ethan's finger brushed against the RealmLink where it lay on the table, cold and lifeless. For a long moment he stared at it, his reflection warped in the darkened glass. The weight of the Tower still pressed against his chest, heavy as stone, refusing to let him breathe freely.
His mark pulsed once, faint but insistent, a reminder.
"Elara..." he whispered, the name rough in his throat.
He lifted the RealmLink. The frame trembled in his hand, as though waiting. He hesitated only a second longer, then slid it back over his eyes.
The world cracked.
Light bled in from the edge of his vision, blinding, pulling him forward as the living room dissolved into mist. The familiar gravity of the Tower seized him once more.
Across the city, Elara stood on the quiet street, the RealmLink clutched tight in her hand. She could still hear the echo of Ethan's scream from the abyss, still feel it reverberating through her chest.
Her reflection in the glass storefront nearby looked pale, blood still drying from cuts across her cheek. behind the glass, for just an instant, she thought she saw Rowan's smirk staring back. She almost faltered.
But she clenched her jaw, sliding the device over her eyes.
"Not this time," she hissed.
The world around her fractured. Streetlamps shattered into threads of light, the night sky peeled away, and she was pulled. hard, back into the Tower's endless dark.
Neither saw where the other landed.
The Tower welcomed them not with silence, but with a roar, stone grinding, whispers surging, as though the Realm itself had been waiting for their return.
And in the heart of that storm, two shards pulsed in unison.