The air inside the Spire shuddered as if the world were holding its breath. The crystalline walls pulsed with dull red light, heartbeats of a slumbering titan. Sera stood at the edge of the platform, her glyphs swirling like a tempest around her arms. Across from her stood Justin—older, wearier, glyph-light flickering across his fingers like dying stars.
"You abandoned me," she said, voice shaking, not from fear but from the weight of years.
Justin laughed bitterly. "You were always the heir. I was just her failure."
Sparks of celestial energy crackled between them. The throne room echoed with the cries of the past, Fresha's memory embedded into the very air. Ayaka clashed with the corrupted guards in the chamber below, every blow of her blade singing the sorrow of battles lost. Akira knelt beside the Queen's crystal core, Kurumi's faint breath misting the surface as he pressed his hand against it, whispering her name again and again.
But here, on this dais, the true war was being waged.
Sera stepped forward. Her glyphs shimmered a pale violet, drawn from her Celestial and human blood. She conjured a lance of light and hurled it, screaming, not just in anger, but in mourning.
Justin deflected it with a wave of his hand, golden sigils sparking into defense. "I loved her too. I waited. I begged. But in the end, she chose him. Not the brother who bled for her."
"You think this is about love? You think I wanted to be Queen?" Sera fired again. This time her glyphs turned white-hot, shaped by fury. "You left me alone in that tower for twelve years!"
They collided. Glyphs clashed, threads of fate snarling in the air. Justin weaved around her attacks, retaliating with crushing blasts of pure memory—illusions that made her relive every goodbye, every failure. Her knees buckled, but she rose again.
"She sealed me," Sera gasped, tears burning. "She left me, Justin. Just like you. Just like him."
Justin froze.
And in that heartbeat, she struck. A glyph-brand exploded at his feet, throwing him back. She raced forward, blade drawn from her crest form, glowing like a shard of moonlight.
Justin caught her wrist mid-swing. Their eyes locked.
"I didn't leave because I wanted to," he said, breath ragged. "I left because I saw what she was becoming. And I didn't want you to be next."
Their energy flared, and the whole chamber trembled. Ayaka glanced up from her fight, sensing the spike. Akira called out Kurumi's name louder, sensing the crystal was growing warmer.
Sera twisted, breaking his grip. She landed a blow to his side, glyphs tearing through cloth and skin. He grunted, stepping back. Blood dripped from his fingers.
"Then why serve her now? Why help bring her back?" she shouted.
Justin looked at her, and for once, his expression was not anger or pride—it was grief.
"Because the only way to stop her... is to finish what we started."
He stabbed his hand into the central glyph node. Light flooded the throne room. The crystal pulsed with violent force.
"JUSTIN!" Sera screamed, running toward him.
He turned, smiling sadly. "You're strong enough now. And Kurumi... she'll need you."
The energy surged.
Ayaka was thrown back as the corrupted guards turned to dust. Akira shielded Kurumi, who suddenly gasped, her eyes fluttering open—and glowing with the Queen's golden sigils.
"No... no, no," Akira whispered.
Kurumi stood, but she wasn't her. The Queen's presence bled through her every movement. Glyphs coiled along her skin like veins of starlight.
But she hesitated.
Her gaze flicked toward Akira—and stopped. For the briefest moment, her lips trembled.
"Akira?"
His heart broke with that word. "I'm here. You're still in there. Please... fight her."
High above, Sera knelt beside Justin as his body crumpled. He looked up at her with glassy eyes.
"Tell her," he whispered. "Tell her I'm sorry."
And then he was gone.
The Spire shook.
Kurumi—or the Queen within her—raised her hands. The crystal behind her shattered like brittle ice, glyphs flying into the sky.
The Queen had returned.
But inside the glow, something still struggled. Kurumi.
Sera rose slowly, cradling her brother's body as her tears fell like rain. Ayaka climbed the dais, face bloodied but calm.
"We still have a chance," she said. "If the girl is still inside... we can bring her back."
Akira stepped forward, drawing glyphs in the air. Not to attack—to reach. He poured every memory, every shared smile, into the sigils.
"Kurumi," he whispered, louder now. "Come back to me."
The Queen turned.
And for a second—only a second—Kurumi's eyes softened.
To be continued...