First-person – Surface, Shore of Lake Hylia]
I woke up gasping.
Air flooded into lungs that didn't feel like mine.
The sun was up—but dull, like it had been scrubbed of warmth. My hands were trembling, twitching slightly even when still. The sand beneath me clung like cold ash.
And for a second—
Just a second—
I saw blood on my fingers.
It faded fast. Like it had never been there.
Beside me, Zelda stirred. Riju's voice echoed through a cough. Yona was already upright, kneeling beside me with tears streaking her cheeks.
"You're awake," she whispered. "You're okay…"
But I wasn't.
Not really.
Something was off.
---
"Your eyes changed."
That was the first thing Zelda said.
She sat on my left, staring at me like a goddess who'd glimpsed a flaw in her own divine sculpture.
"They were always silver," I said, smiling tightly.
She leaned closer.
"No… now they have gold in them. Like Hylia's. Like hers."
Riju crossed her arms. "They glow when you talk. Just for a second. You didn't notice?"
"No."
But I had.
I'd noticed everything.
---
[Internal Voice – The Other Half]
> "Why pretend? They'll never trust you now. You let me in."
> "And now we share the skin."
> "But only one of us has the will to survive."
I didn't respond.
I couldn't.
Because if I spoke to the voice, I'd be acknowledging he was real.
And I wasn't ready for that.
Not yet.
---
[Third-person – Zelda's Thoughts]
Zelda watched him.
Every blink, every breath.
He was still beautiful. Still him.
But something shimmered beneath the surface now.
A crack in the mirror.
She'd fought monsters, gods, timelines—but never had she feared something so simple:
That he might disappear while still standing in front of her.
She couldn't allow that.
Not when she'd just found him again.
And if the others didn't understand that…
She'd burn the world down before letting them take him from her.
---
[First-person – Camp, Near Lake Hylia]
We set up camp not far from the ruined temple.
I tried to rest, to eat, to talk.
But my voice didn't sound like mine.
Too calm.
Too measured.
Riju was the first to mention it.
"You're quieter," she said, watching the fire. "Used to be full of smart remarks. Now it's like you're thinking about… every word before you say it."
"Do you miss the old me?" I asked, tilting my head.
She paused. Then turned, eyes narrowed.
"I miss the truthful you."
Yona interrupted before the tension rose.
"He's still him," she said quickly. "Just… adjusting."
She looked at me with pleading eyes. "Right?"
I smiled. I tried to mean it.
"Of course."
But inside, I wasn't sure.
---
[Vision – In the Flame]
That night, the fire crackled strangely.
And when I looked into it, I didn't see flames.
I saw her.
Hylia.
Kneeling before me. Crying. Begging.
"You were my first," she whispered.
"I wanted to protect you."
"But you frightened me."
"You were born to break balance, not serve it."
I reached out.
But the vision snapped. The fire returned.
The girls were asleep—or pretending.
And the Tear of Balance glowed with both light and shadow now.
---
[Later That Night – First-person]
Yona came to me first.
She lay beside me without asking.
Curled into my side like she belonged there.
Her voice was soft, almost sleepy. "If you change… will you still love us?"
I blinked. "What makes you think I love anyone?"
Her breath caught—but only for a moment.
Then she smiled.
"I don't need you to say it. I'll love you enough for both of us."
Her fingers curled around mine. Tighter than expected. Possessive.
> "You will be mine," she whispered. "Even if I have to tear the others apart."
I looked down.
Her expression was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Like she meant every word.
And suddenly, I couldn't remember if I was afraid—
—or excited.
---
[Final Scene – Inner World]
That night, I dreamed of a mirror.
In it stood my reflection—only darker.
He smiled, and his eyes glowed like dying stars.
"You think they'll save you," he said.
"But they won't."
"They'll fight each other to own you."
"And when they do… I'll be there."
He placed his hand against the glass.
"Let me help you."
I didn't move.
Didn't speak.
But I knew.
The cracks weren't in the mirror anymore.
They were in me.