The temple fell silent again.
Only the echo of my heartbeat remained, quick and uneven against the distant hum of mana.
Cracks spread along the marble floor, glowing faintly before fading like dying fireflies.
The air was still heavy with distortion — ripples that refused to settle after the battle.
Outside, the twin suns had begun to bleed into dusk.
Shadows stretched long and thin, bending at odd angles. Even the light here felt wrong — like it hadn't yet learned how to behave.
I walked toward the exit, boots crunching over shattered stone. Each step stirred echoes that didn't belong to me.
Somewhere deep in the ruins, something watched.
> [Spatial Limit Stabilized — 5%.]
Warning: Residual Anomaly Detected.
I exhaled, palms trembling faintly. The world still felt fragile, like glass that could splinter if I breathed too hard.
A whisper drifted through the corridor.
Not from my mind this time — a real voice. Soft. Human.
> "You shouldn't have done that."
I froze.
At the end of the hall stood a girl — slender, barefoot, cloaked in tattered gray fabric that shimmered faintly like starlight.
Her eyes glowed the same color as mine — deep, endless blue — but older, heavier. Like they had seen too many endings.
For a moment, I thought she was another illusion.
But then the dust at her feet stirred. The fabric moved with the wind.
She was real.
"Who are you?" I asked.
She tilted her head. "Someone who remembers."
Her gaze flicked to the still-cracking air behind me. "The Guardian's death will wake the world. They'll send more."
"Them?"
"The entities that keep this reality stitched together," she said quietly. "You broke one of the threads."
I looked down at my hand — faint traces of silver light still pulsed beneath the skin. "It tried to erase me first."
Her lips curved into something between pity and fear. "And it failed. That's what makes you dangerous."
I took a step closer. "Then you know what I am?"
She hesitated. "Not yet. But I can see what you're becoming."
For a heartbeat, our eyes met — and something clicked.
A pulse of energy leapt between us, invisible but undeniable.
The world sharpened.
The ceiling, the wind, the distant hum of the suns — everything slowed to a crawl.
She gasped. "You… pulled me in."
It was instinctive.
The space around us bent into a translucent sphere — a pocket of frozen stillness. Dust hung midair like suspended stars.
I reached out my hand; the light of my perception traced faint sigils through the air.
Within this sphere, everything was mine.
Unmoving. Perfect.
Her voice trembled. "You've already reached the Second Layer…"
The System chimed faintly, words whispering across the air.
> [Shared Perception Link Established.]
Unknown Entity Synchronizing — Compatibility 87%.
Designation: ???]
Her eyes widened. "It's reacting to me?"
The link pulsed once — and suddenly, I saw through her eyes.
A flash of images:
Endless skies collapsing. Oceans folding into themselves. A thousand reflections of me falling into the void.
And through it all, her standing alone — watching.
I stumbled back, the connection breaking with a shattering sound.
"What was that?" I asked, breathless.
She pressed a hand over her chest. "A glimpse. The System showed you what I see. I don't control it… it just happens when someone shares my sight."
Her expression softened. "My name is Lirya. I've been waiting for someone like you."
"For me?"
She nodded. "The world calls people like us Errors. Those who see the lines that hold reality together."
Her voice dropped. "But you're worse. You don't just see them. You can rewrite them."
Silence hung between us, heavy and trembling.
Outside, thunder cracked again — clear skies splitting open like torn silk.
A beam of white light shot from the horizon, piercing the heavens. The ground quaked beneath us.
Lirya's face went pale. "They've noticed you. The Order's Watchers are descending."
> [Warning: Correction Entities Incoming.]
I looked up at the rift spreading through the clouds. My reflection gleamed faintly in its glow — hair white as frost, eyes burning with endless blue.
I smiled, small and calm.
"Let them come," I whispered. "I haven't reached my limit yet."