The archway rose like a scar in the world—torn from shadows, its surface shivering with soft light.
Rin hesitated on the threshold of passing through, her fingers trailing over the lip of the stone. "You certain he's there?"
Reika didn't respond at first. Her voice, when it came, was deeper. "Not all of him. But enough."
Kael cinched the strap on his wristblade. "If this is what I suspect… we're not entering in a memory. We're entering what he decided to become."
Rin swallowed and nodded. And then they stepped through.
---
It was not a room they entered.
It was an absence.
A space stitched together by violet strands that pulsed like nerves under skin. The air was other here—alive, nearly sentient. Each step they made caused waves through the floor, as if memory itself monitored them.
In the midst was a pillar of glass—tall, broken, thrumming with surges of soullight.
Within it, suspended in midair, was Elias.
Or what remained of him.
His body drifted, eyes shut, hair floating freely like he were immersed in some invisible substance. His chest rising and falling slightly. Threads that tied him down—some severed, others strung tight. And his hands… they shimmered.
As if they were struggling to hold something together.
Rin's own breath stumbled. "Elias…"
Reika moved first, hesitatingly, like each step taxed her. Her voice shook. "He's… he's keeping the seal. Becoming the anchor."
Kael's brow furrowed. "He's not trapped. He chose this."
Reika came to the glass and laid her hand against it. A light spread from her contact—warm, golden, pained.
His eyes opened.
Slowly. Stupidly. But when they met Reika's, something flared.
Recognition.
Pain.
Love.
"…Reika," he whispered, his voice little more than a thread.
The glass shuddered. Then, as if out of nowhere, dissolved—petal by petal, like a flower constructed of tears.
Elias dropped to his knees.
Rin hurried forward, catching him just as he fell completely. She steadied him, hands gripping his shoulders. Kael knelt down beside her, eyes scanning the few threads still attached to Elias's body.
"You shouldn't be here," Elias whispered, eyes unfocused. "It's not time yet. I wasn't ready…"
"But we were," Rin replied, voice choked. "We needed you."
Elias's hand grasped Reika's.
And she—cold, hard Reika—folded. Her knees landed on the ground, arms wrapped around him in a shaking hug.
"You idiot," she breathed. "You always had to be the one to rescue everyone."
"You needed rescuing first," Elias said, faintly. "I was too late… before."
Kael's eyes shifted to the threads. "He's not complete. There's a break in his soul-thread. It's splintered—sealing something off."
Rin's eyes snapped up. "What?"
Elias drew away from Reika, eyes flashing toward Rin.
"It's you, Rin."
"What are you talking about?"
He pressed his hand to her chest, over her heart. A dim radiance passed between them—like a sliver of sunlight on a mirror.
You died," Elias whispered. "In more versions than I can count. You broke. The world broke with you. So I sealed the possibility away. Became the anchor to hold the versions apart. So the cycle would stop."
Rin's voice was a whisper. "That's why I can't remember… why it always hurts when I try."
Kael stood, fists clenched. "You took her choice away.
"I saved her," Elias said. "And failed her at the same time."
There was silence.
Heavy. Raw.
Then Reika stood, assisting Elias to his feet.
"You need to finish this," she told Rin. "There's more beneath this void. A deeper thread. One that holds your truth—and all your selves."
Rin's eyes blazed. "If I open it… will I survive it?"
Elias smiled weakly, his gaze on her—on Kael, too. "That depends. Are you still running?"
Rin turned into Kael's eyes.
"No," she whispered. "No longer."
Kael fell in step beside her. "Then we walk as one."
Rin faced into the churning heart of the void, to a last doorway—shaped like a mirror, but one that reflected no possibility.
_but truth._
Reika glanced to Elias. "Can you walk?"
"With you?" he returned, smiling thinly. "Always."
And the four moved ahead.
Together.