---
The world shattered like glass struck by thunder.
Ayame's scream was swallowed by the collapse—a spiraling kaleidoscope of light and void. One moment, she was reaching for Kael. The next, she was falling through a thousand versions of the sky.
Her locket flared violently against her chest, its silver frame cracking with each pulse. She clutched it instinctively, drawing her arms close, bracing for impact—
But there was none.
Instead, she landed on something soft. Not ground—*light*. Pale and cool like morning mist. She blinked against the brightness and sat up.
The world had become a liminal space: a boundless horizon of white and faint gold. There was no up or down, only *is*.
"Kael?" she called out, her voice muffled like it passed through water.
No answer.
She rose, spinning slowly in place.
Then came the hum.
Not mechanical.
Not magical.
Alive.
"Ayame."
She turned sharply. A figure approached—tall, robed, faceless. The Custodian. But... different. This one moved with hesitation. Regret.
"What have you done to him?" she demanded.
The figure stopped a few paces away.
"He is safe. Safer than you now."
Ayame narrowed her eyes. "You tore this place apart just to separate us."
The Custodian tilted its head.
"We did not shatter this realm. *You* did."
She staggered back. "What?"
"Two pieces of the Circuit, in perfect sync. When united, you breached the threshold. The Gate that should not yet open."
Ayame felt the locket cool suddenly, as if listening.
"I don't care what gates open or what rules we break. I came here for Kael. I'll tear down every illusion you build to keep us apart."
The Custodian raised its hand—not in threat, but in solemnity.
"Then you must face the Mirror."
Before she could ask what that meant, the ground beneath her shimmered, and she fell again—
---
This time, she landed on the rooftop of her old school.
The wind tousled her hair. Birds chirped. It was… real.
Too real.
Kael stood at the edge, facing away from her, dressed in their school uniform.
"Kael?" she whispered.
He turned.
His eyes were empty.
Cold.
He smiled—not Kael's smile. A mimic.
"You waited for me," he said.
She backed up. "No. You're not him."
"Did you ever really know him?" the mimic asked, stepping closer. "He left you. Disappeared. For a year."
"He didn't have a choice," Ayame shot back.
The mimic's voice softened. "But he didn't tell you, did he? About the memory seals. About what he did before they took him."
Ayame's chest tightened. "Stop."
"You think love is enough?" the mimic whispered. "You think just because you came here, you deserve him?"
Ayame unsheathed the blade Zephira gave her.
The mimic laughed. "You'd strike down a memory?"
"I'd strike down *anything* that tries to stop me."
She charged—and as her blade pierced the illusion, the rooftop shattered like paper burning to ash.
---
Ayame gasped and stumbled out into the white horizon again.
She fell to her knees, exhausted.
But then—soft footsteps.
Kael's voice.
"Ayame…"
She looked up, heart in her throat.
This time—it was him.
Bound in golden thread, bleeding starlight from a cut over his brow, but it was him.
They ran to each other, collided in an embrace that felt like the first time.
"I'm here," she whispered into his chest. "I found you."
He held her like she was the last truth in the universe.
"I knew you would."
---
But their reunion was brief.
The sky above cracked once more.
From the fissures, voices poured out—choruses of past selves, regrets, promises.
The Custodians were coming.
And they weren't going to give Kael up again.
Ayame looked into his eyes, fierce with resolve.
"We run," he said.
"No," she replied, unsheathing her blade.
"We fight."
---