The storm hadn't stopped — it had learned to whisper.
Velora breathed in intervals now, every heartbeat of the city syncing with the pulse beneath its streets. Lightning crawled like veins across the sky, tracing symbols no one had written.
Azen and Lyra moved along the broken rails toward the old transit core.
The System's map flickered in Azen's sight, a faint lattice of light weaving through the ruins. Each step made the hum stronger. Each second brought the alignment closer.
[PATH PROGRESS: 82%]
[WARNING: TEMPORAL DISTORTION DETECTED.]
Lyra slowed beside him. "Do you feel that?"
He nodded. The air was bending — not with heat, but with memory.
For a moment, he saw the city as it had been — alive, golden, unbroken. Then it snapped back, drowned in rain and ash.
The Glass Chamber rose before them, half-swallowed by mist. Its walls shimmered faintly, mirroring the storm, distorting the reflections into faces that shouldn't exist.
[SYSTEM MODULE: VISUAL LINK ACTIVE]
[IDENTIFIED: SELF — ALTERNATE SIGNATURE.]
Azen stared at his reflection — only it wasn't him. The other version had eyes of deep silver and veins of gold, standing perfectly still behind the glass.
Lyra stepped closer. "Is that…"
He whispered, "Me."
The reflection tilted its head. Its lips moved — no sound, just the pulse of light. Words formed across the System display.
[YOU ARE NOT COMPLETE.]
[MERGE REQUIRED.]
The chamber doors opened. Cold light poured out like a memory unsealed.
Lyra's hand brushed his shoulder. "If this is a trap—"
"Then I have to see who built it," Azen said.
Inside, the world was crystalline. Every surface reflected infinity — a thousand versions of Azen and Lyra walking, pausing, fading. At the center, a sphere floated — cracked, golden, bleeding light like liquid thought.
[VEIN CORE: PRIMARY NODE.]
[CONNECTION: INHERITED ACCESS DETECTED.]
The hum became a voice — not human, not machine. Something ancient between.
"You think you carry power," it said, "but you carry debt."
The sphere trembled. Images flared — his mother sealing the Vein, the first Keepers vanishing in light, Kane's eyes turning crimson.
Lyra's voice shook. "It's showing you everything."
Azen's chest burned with new light. "No. It's warning me."
The reflections began to move on their own — alternate selves stepping free from the glass, silent, watching. Each one carried a mark — the cost of a choice he hadn't made yet.
[SYSTEM ALERT: IDENTITY DIVERGENCE REACHED.]
[STABILITY: 49%.]
Lyra reached for him. "Azen—"
He turned, half of his face already flickering between forms. "If I don't merge, the Vein collapses. If I do… I stop being me."
"Then we find another way."
He smiled faintly. "There's never another way. Only the right one too late."
The chamber pulsed once — hard. The reflections screamed without sound, and everything folded inward.
[MERGE INITIATED.]
[ALIGNMENT: 2 HOURS REMAINING.]
And then silence.
When the light cleared, Lyra stood alone.
Only the sphere remained, dim and still — its surface showing a single image: Azen, standing beneath a different sky, looking back at her.