Part 1
The afternoon sun, piercing through the grimy windows of the old toy shop, created pillars of dusty light, illuminating particles that floated in the air like microscopic fireflies. The air was stale, smelling of rotting wood and old plastic. In the silence, broken only by Kael's own breathing and the spectral sobs that had begun to fade, he crouched before the boy Phantasm. Its transparent form still radiated sadness, but its intensity had lessened, replaced by a sort of hesitant curiosity.
"So... your playmate," Kael began again, his voice kept gentle, as if speaking to a small, wounded bird. "Do you remember what it looked like? Or its color?"
The child Phantasm shook its head slowly, its spectral lips trembling. "No... just... it was always there. On that shelf." It pointed again to the same empty shelf, its gaze full of a heart-wrenching longing. "It made me... not alone."
Kael nodded in understanding. That feeling—the attachment to something that provides a sense of security and companionship amidst loneliness—began to resonate within him. He remembered his own childhood, how a worn-out teddy bear had become his loyal friend when he had to stay home alone while his parents worked late. The sense of loss this Phantasm felt, though different in form, was at its core a universal human emotion.
"Vance, any progress?" Rina's voice sounded again in his earpiece, her tone a little more patient this time, though a touch of undisguisable skepticism remained. "Our sensors are still detecting energy fluctuations, but the pattern has changed. It's more stable."
"He said he lost his playmate," Kael answered quietly, his eyes never leaving the child Phantasm. "He doesn't remember the details, only that it used to be on that empty shelf."
"A physical object? That's unusual for an Echo-class Phantasm. They are typically pure manifestations of residual emotion or locational trauma," Rina commented, sounding as if she were reading a data report.
"Maybe... maybe its emotions were so tied to the object that it became an anchor for its existence here," Kael theorized, based more on his intuition than on any scientific knowledge. He stood up slowly. "I'm going to try looking around that shelf. Maybe it just fell or got misplaced."
The child Phantasm watched Kael's every move with its large, spectral eyes. Kael approached the rickety wooden shelf. A thick layer of dust coated it, except for one cleaner, rectangular area where the "playmate" used to be. He crouched, examining the floor beneath the shelf and the cracks around it. The shop was filled with disorganized heaps of goods, dented cardboard boxes, and scattered toys.
"Could it be in one of these boxes?" Kael murmured, pointing to a few cardboard boxes stacked in a corner.
The child Phantasm just stared blankly, as if the idea of searching had never occurred to it, or it was too consumed by its sorrow to try.
Kael began to carefully open one of the boxes. It was filled with faded, musty-smelling cloth dolls. Not it. The next box contained wooden building blocks, some of which were missing. Not that either. He continued his search, box after box, while the child Phantasm watched in silence, its sobs now having stopped completely, replaced by a kind of tense anticipation.
Kael's own feelings were mixed. Part of him felt this was ridiculous—he, a high school student, playing detective for a ghost's toy in a dusty shop. But another, stronger part felt an urgency to help. The emotional resonance he felt from the Phantasm wasn't just passive sadness; there was a fledgling glimmer of hope, a hope sparked by Kael's presence and effort. He didn't want to extinguish that hope.
"Vance, we're detecting something," Rina's voice suddenly broke Kael's concentration. "There's a very faint concentration of residual energy under a pile of old books near the back window. The pattern matches the Phantasm's emotional energy."
"The back window?" Kael turned. In the farthest corner of the shop, near a window with a partially broken pane, was a pile of yellowed and torn children's storybooks. "Thanks, Rina."
He walked towards the pile of books. The child Phantasm, for the first time, moved from its spot, floating slowly behind Kael, keeping a distance of a few steps.
Carefully, Kael began to move the books one by one. Dust flew up, making his nose itch. And then, under the last book, he saw it.
A small, square-shaped music box, made of dark, worn wood. Its surface was slightly scratched, and its metal hinges were rusted. But there was something familiar about its shape and size, matching the clean area on the shelf.
"Is... is this it?" Kael asked, picking up the music box and turning to face the child Phantasm.
The boy's spectral eyes widened. The light from its body suddenly pulsed brighter, but this time not out of sadness or instability. There was a different vibration, something Kael perceived as… recognition. A restrained joy.
The boy reached out a trembling, transparent hand towards the music box, but his hand passed right through it. A look of disappointment flashed across its spectral face.
Kael understood. The Phantasm couldn't directly interact with the physical world.
"Let me try," Kael said gently. He turned the small key on the side of the music box. It was stuck at first, but after a few careful attempts, the key turned.
And then, a simple melody, slightly off-key but sweet, began to drift from within the box. A melody that carried a sense of nostalgia and childhood innocence.
Part 2
As the music box's melody filled the silent air of the shop, something extraordinary happened. The light emanating from the child Phantasm began to shine brighter and brighter, but this time it wasn't chaotic or sorrowful energy. The light was warm, gentle, and full of peace. Its transparent form slowly began to fade, not disappearing by force, but as if gracefully dissolving into the light itself.
Spectral tears still streamed down its cheeks, but now they were not tears of sadness, but of relief. A faint smile, the first Kael had seen, formed on its spectral face.
"Thank... you..." Its whispered voice, clearer than before, sounded like the final echo of a beautiful song.
Then, with a last, soft pulse of light, the child Phantasm vanished completely. The music box's melody continued to play, filling the void it left behind. The heavy feeling of sorrow that had blanketed the shop was now gone, replaced by a calm and peaceful atmosphere, though still slightly melancholic.
Kael stood transfixed, holding the music box that still played its melody. He had done it. Somehow, he had succeeded. He hadn't fought, hadn't destroyed. He had simply… listened, felt, and tried to help.
A strange warmth spread through his chest. Exhaustion, but also a satisfaction he had never felt before.
"Vance… sensor report… all Phantasm energy anomalies at your location are completely neutralized. No harmful residue. The emotional distortion in the surrounding area has also returned to normal," Rina's voice came through the earpiece, this time without a trace of skepticism. There was only a barely concealed astonishment. "How… how did you do it?"
Kael smiled faintly, looking at the music box in his hands. "I just… helped it find what was lost. And let it hear its music one last time."
He could imagine the child Phantasm, perhaps once a real boy who had deeply loved this music box. Maybe he had died or disappeared, sad about losing his favorite toy, and that powerful emotion had lingered in this place, becoming a Phantasm that longed for its "friend." The melody was the final reminder of happiness, a peaceful closure for its trapped existence.
After the melody stopped, Kael placed the music box back in its original spot on the shelf, on the area clean of dust. As if returning something precious to its home.
"It's done here," Kael said to Rina.
He walked out of the toy shop, back into the fading afternoon sunlight. Rina was waiting for him, leaning against the wall as before. Her expression was still hard to read, but Kael could see a slight shift in her eyes—a hint of respect, perhaps? Or at least, a greater curiosity.
"You… succeeded," Rina said, as if still processing what she had just witnessed through her sensors and Kael's comms. "Without a single shot fired. Without any damage."
"It was just… lonely," Kael replied softly. "It just needed to be heard."
Rina was silent for a moment, looking at Kael with an unreadable expression. "Commander Thorne will want a full report on this." She paused, then added, "You did well, Kaelen Vance."
Praise, however brief and flat, coming from Rina Volkov felt like a major achievement for Kael.
"So... what now?" Kael asked. "Does this mean I'm... officially a part of this?"
Rina nodded. "The final decision is yours, of course. But after today, I think the Order will be very interested in continuing to work with you." She looked up at the twilight sky, which was beginning to turn orange. "Phantasms like 'Lyra' are far more complex and dangerous. But maybe… maybe this method does have potential."
Kael looked at the sky too. The image of Lyra's cosmic scythe flashed through his mind again. If he could help that little child Phantasm just by listening and empathizing, could it be possible to do the same for Lyra? The Phantasm who radiated such deep sorrow behind her terrifying power.
The thought was frightening, and at the same time… compelling.
"I'll think about it," Kael said. But deep down, he knew he had already made his decision. He could no longer go back to being the Kaelen Vance who just stood on the sidelines and watched. A fracture in destiny had opened before him, and he felt compelled to step through it.
Suddenly, Rina's earpiece blared with an emergency alert tone, different from before. She immediately pressed her finger to her ear, her expression turning serious.
"What is it, Rina?" Kael asked, concerned.
Rina listened for a moment, her eyes widening slightly. She looked at Kael.
"A new Lunanima Rift anomaly has just been detected. Large-scale. In the city center." She paused, then added in a lower voice, "The initial sensors indicate an energy pattern remarkably similar… to 'Lyra's'."
Kael's heart felt like it had stopped. Lyra. She was back. And this time, in the city center.
The chance to truly think about his decision had apparently just vanished. Destiny was moving faster than he had anticipated.