The storm passed, but its echo remained.
For three days, the group trekked through the jagged ridges of the northern mountains, silent except for the crunch of boots against the frost-bitten soil. Mist hung low in the valleys, whispering like the breaths of the dead.
Riku led the group, his hand never leaving the hilt of Eclipsera. Behind him, Mina walked quietly, her steps soft, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the horizon. The violet glint still lingered faintly in her eyes, and though she smiled when spoken to, something about that smile felt… distant.
Arin kept a cautious watch. She'd been doing that ever since Mina's rebirth.
Ren pretended not to care, but he kept glancing at her when he thought no one noticed.
And Roku — who'd nearly died the day Mina fell — now walked closer to her, guilt carved into his expression.
"Still thinking about it, huh?" Ren muttered, falling into step beside Riku.
Riku didn't look up. "She shouldn't have had to die for me to realize how fragile we all are."
"Don't start that again," Ren sighed. "If we spend all day crying over what could've been, we'll all end up ghosts before we reach the next valley."
Riku gave a faint smirk. "You sound like someone who's done that before."
Ren chuckled dryly. "Kid, I've been the ghost."
Their faint laughter died quickly into the mountain wind.
⸻
That evening, they made camp near the mouth of a frozen cavern. The fire crackled weakly, throwing orange light on their faces. Mina sat close to the flames, her fingers absently tracing the patterns of her gloves.
"I keep feeling it," she murmured.
Arin looked up. "Feeling what?"
"The other voice," Mina said quietly. "It's like something's whispering in my head. Not words I can understand — just… intent. Like it's looking through me."
Roku shifted uncomfortably. "You sure it's not trauma or something?"
Ren gave him a sharp look. "She came back from the dead, genius. I think we can rule out 'trauma' as the weirdest part."
Riku leaned forward, his tone calm but firm. "If you ever feel like it's trying to take control, tell me. I don't care what it is — we'll deal with it together."
Mina met his gaze. There was warmth there — gratitude — but also something else. A quiet sadness.
"I'm not afraid," she said softly. "Just… curious. What if whatever brought me back wasn't a curse? What if it's a clue?"
Before Riku could respond, a loud clank echoed from the cavern behind them.
Everyone froze.
"Please tell me that was just the wind," Arin muttered.
Ren stood, drawing his blade. "Wind doesn't wear metal boots."
Another clang. Then a string of muffled curses. "No, no, no — don't you dare explode, you miserable little spark tube—"
The group exchanged confused looks.
And then out of the darkness stumbled a figure — tall, scrawny, and absolutely covered in gears, glowing wires, and a bronze chest plate that looked half-stolen, half-invented. A cracked pair of goggles hung around his neck, and his wild, silver-streaked hair stood in every direction imaginable.
"Ah! Living people!" the stranger exclaimed, tripping over a rock and faceplanting into the snow.
Ren blinked. "…What the hell is that?"
The man popped up instantly, brushing snow from his goggles. "That, my muscular friend, is called gravity. I've been testing it for years — still undefeated."
Mina actually laughed — the first real one since her return.
"Name's Kai," the stranger said, offering a gloved hand that was sparking faintly with blue light. "Engineer, inventor, occasional survivalist, and frequent victim of my own brilliance."
Riku raised an eyebrow. "You live in a mountain cave?"
Kai grinned proudly. "Live? No, no, I thrive! Well, mostly. I tinker with old world relics. You wouldn't believe the junk I've pulled from these tunnels. The ancient civilization that built this place was obsessed with light, energy, and… oh! you probably don't care."
Roku tilted his head. "No, I kinda do."
Kai's eyes gleamed. "Excellent! A fellow enthusiast of glowing death machines!"
Arin muttered, "Oh, we're keeping him. Definitely."
Ren sighed. "Wonderful. Another mouth to feed."
Kai ignored the jab and crouched near their fire, pulling out a round metal device that looked like a broken compass with a beating light inside.
"This little beauty," he said proudly, "is a Soul Resonator. Picks up spiritual frequencies from miles away. Lately, it's been going crazy— especially after that storm three nights ago. I thought it was a fault in the coil, but now—"
He turned toward Mina. The device in his hand began to hum.
Riku's eyes narrowed. "It's reacting to her."
Kai's grin faltered slightly. "Oh. Ohhh… that's fascinatingly alarming."
Mina stood slowly. "You can sense souls with that?"
Kai nodded, eyes flicking between the device and her faint violet glow. "Not just sense — measure. Whatever you've got inside you… it's ancient. Very ancient. Almost feels like… two signatures fused together."
Everyone exchanged wary glances.
"Can you tell what it is?" Riku asked.
Kai frowned, twisting a dial. "Hard to say. But the last time I saw a reading this strong was near the ruins of the Celestial Gate. That's where—well, legend says the first souls crossed into this realm."
"The Realm of the Dead," Riku whispered.
Kai grinned. "So you have heard of it. Excellent! You see, I've been trying to locate the remnants of the Celestial Core for years. If we could find it, it might explain why the balance between life and death is… you know, casually imploding."
Ren groaned. "Why is it always world-ending nonsense with you types?"
Kai smirked. "Because 'mildly inconvenient nonsense' doesn't sell books."
Arin chuckled. "He's weird… but I like him."
Riku looked at Mina, who still stood near the fire, eyes flickering with violet. "Maybe he's what we need," he said. "Someone who understands what's happening beneath all this."
Kai straightened, dramatically sweeping his coat back. "Then it's settled! I, Kai the Brilliant—self-appointed savior of spark and sanity—shall accompany you!"
"Spark and sanity?" Ren said dryly. "You have neither."
"Exactly!" Kai beamed. "That's what makes me reliable."
The group couldn't help it — they laughed. For the first time in weeks, real laughter. Even Mina smiled, though faintly.
As the night wore on, Kai shared stories of failed inventions, exploding soup pots, and an encounter with a talking skull that offered terrible romantic advice. His absurd humor filled the air that had been empty of joy since Mina's death.
But deep in her eyes, beneath the flickering firelight, the violet glow pulsed once more. Quiet. Restless. Watching.
And as she looked into the mountains ahead, a shadow rippled across the snow — faint, like a mirage. A woman's silhouette, crowned with light.
Soon, a whisper echoed inside her mind.
Soon, you'll remember who you really are.
Mina blinked, shaking her head. "Did anyone else hear that?"
Kai looked up from his tinkering. "Hear what?"
"Nothing," she said quickly.
But the mountain wind carried a low hum — the same resonance that had once called her back from death. And though laughter still filled their camp, something beyond the mist had awakened.