The air inside the Spire was still—so still it rang. The silence wrapped around them like gauze, muffling even the sounds of their breaths. Above them, the ceiling stretched beyond visibility, carved with constellations that flickered like dying stars. Every step toward the heart of the tower tightened the weight on their chests, as though the very air was made of judgment.
They came upon the chamber by accident, but none of them were surprised to find it waiting.
The Throne of Echoes.
Sera stepped forward, her boots grinding against crystal dust. The throne itself was carved from obsidian and marrowbone, set atop a shallow pool of memory-light. Faces shimmered within the waters—not reflections, but memories. Regrets.
"This is where it begins," Ayaka said, voice taut. Her knuckles were white against the hilt of her staff. "Or ends."
Without warning, the room rippled.
Light swallowed them all.
---
Sera blinked.
She was five again.
The chamber was warm, humming with glyph-song. Her mother's arms were around her, but they trembled. Fresha's voice whispered against her ear, a lullaby turned farewell.
"I'm sorry, little star. The world doesn't deserve your light just yet."
And then the glyph flared.
Sera screamed, but no sound came.
She thrashed against the chains of light, begged to understand, but her mother was already gone. Only the seal remained—etched into her skin like a curse. The throne chamber folded in around her, a cocoon of memory meant to suffocate.
---
Akira stumbled.
He was alone, but not. The chamber around him was endless now—the stars above mirrored the ocean beneath. A path of floating glyphs led forward. At the center, a girl stood with her back turned.
Kurumi.
But not the Kurumi he knew. This one pulsed with divine glyphs, her body radiant with the Queen's essence. Wings of broken script arched behind her, and her eyes—when she turned—were not her own.
They were Fresha's.
"You followed me here," she said, voice echoing with layers. "Even now, you try to reach her."
Akira took a step forward. "She's still inside. I know it."
"Do you?" The Queen tilted her head. "Would you still want her if she became me?"
He didn't hesitate. "Yes."
Light exploded from her form, and the chamber split.
---
Ayaka was drowning.
Not in water, but in ash. Her students' faces loomed all around her—burning, screaming, pleading. The ones she had refused to train for war, the ones who died anyway. Her hands were stained with soot. Her staff cracked in half. She looked into the flames and saw her own cowardice.
"You could have made them stronger," a voice accused.
"No," she whispered. "I wanted them to be safe."
"And they weren't."
She screamed.
---
Sera stood in the center of the glyph seal, the memory refusing to break. She shook, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Then, a voice.
"You were never meant to be a weapon."
She turned. Kurumi was there.
But it wasn't just Kurumi.
It was Fresha, standing inside her. Speaking through her.
"But now you must choose. Will you carry my will, or your own?"
Sera took a shaky breath. "You left me."
"To protect you."
"You used me."
Fresha's presence dimmed for a moment. A hesitation.
Akira burst through the illusion, glyphs blazing along his arms.
"Kurumi!"
She turned, face flickering between herself and the Queen. Her hands reached toward him—then faltered.
"You shouldn't have come," she whispered.
"Too late," Akira said, taking her hand. "I'm not leaving you."
The Queen's voice echoed within her.
"Why does he matter to you?"
Kurumi blinked.
And for a moment, the Queen paused.
Something in Akira's presence, his hand in hers, made the power falter. Not shatter—but waver.
"You... look at him the way I once looked at..." the Queen murmured.
Justin.
Memories spilled through Kurumi's mind that weren't hers. A thousand years of regret. Love denied. A throne never meant to be held.
And then she screamed.
Glyphs shattered around them. The throne cracked down the middle.
The illusion was broken.
---
Ayaka stumbled out first, gasping for breath.
Then Akira, dragging Kurumi with him. She was pale, but her body was her own again.
Sera emerged last.
Her eyes were dry.
The Throne of Echoes crumbled behind them.
Fresha's voice whispered through the dust.
"You walk toward a truth none of you are ready for."
Kurumi looked up at Akira.
"But maybe we are."
And the next gate opened.