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The ground vanished beneath their feet.
Ayame didn't fall—she *spiraled*. Colors twisted into sound, and sound folded into heat. Her voice caught in her throat, but it echoed around her like a choir of old ghosts whispering her name.
Kael's hand grasped hers mid-spin. His grip was the only anchor in a storm of impossible sensations. For a moment, they weren't falling—they were *remembering*, every choice and heartbeat stitched together in a chaotic weave of time.
And then—
Silence.
Ayame landed hard on cold marble. Kael hit the floor beside her, grunting. They were no longer in the temple. They weren't even in Scarlet Cradle.
They were inside a vast chamber of glass and starlight.
"Where… are we?" Ayame asked, her voice small in the void.
Kael stood and helped her up. "Feels like a memory palace. Or a timeline split open and made solid."
The chamber was endless. Floating hourglasses drifted through the air like lazy fireflies. Each held a different scene within its sand—some of them familiar. Ayame saw a flicker of her first sketchbook, pages turning by themselves. A younger Kael running through rain with a wooden sword.
Then she spotted it.
One hourglass that hovered close to the floor—cracked, glowing purple, its sand moving *up* instead of down.
Inside, Yui was suspended mid-air, like a bug in amber, hands clasped around the glowing key symbol on her chest.
"She's stuck in a time-lock," Kael said, eyes narrowing. "This is how they trapped her."
Ayame stepped forward, but as her foot touched the floor beneath the hourglass, the chamber shifted.
Figures stepped from the shadows—ghosts of themselves.
But not echoes like before.
These were *possibilities*.
A version of Ayame who had never drawn again after her first rejection. Another who had chosen to forget Kael entirely. A Kael who wore a golden crown and eyes that no longer smiled.
Each doppelgänger watched them with silent judgment.
"We're in the Hourglass Labyrinth," a voice whispered.
It was Yui's, echoing from the hourglass.
"Only one version of you can move forward. The rest… want your place."
Kael turned as one of his doubles stepped closer, swinging a black-bladed sword.
"Then let's show them we're the real ones," Kael muttered.
They fought. But not with blades alone.
Each strike forced Ayame to confront her doubts.
"You're not brave—you're just desperate," one Ayame spat, slinging paint like poison.
"You draw to escape. That's not strength. That's fear."
But Ayame didn't flinch.
She let the paint whip flow from her heart. Each stroke told a story—not of perfection, but persistence. Not of never falling, but always rising.
"I'm all those versions," she said, slashing through the illusion. "But I choose *this* path."
Kael mirrored her resolve. "I've been lost. I've been angry. But every moment brought me to *her*. That's the only truth I need."
With a final cry, they shattered the illusions.
The hourglass cracked open.
Yui fell forward—caught gently in Ayame's arms.
Time righted itself.
The stars realigned. The chamber of starlight began to fade.
But not before one last warning burned itself into the air in glowing letters:
**FIVE KEYS AWAKENED. THE SIXTH SLEEPS IN THE WOUND OF WORLDS.**
Yui stirred. "We don't have much time," she whispered, eyes wide with fear. "The Custodians aren't the only ones searching now."
Kael helped her up. "Who else?"
Yui's lips trembled.
"The *Cradleborn*. They've returned."
A distant roar echoed through the vanishing glass.
Ayame turned to Kael, her breath shallow.
"Something's coming."
And it wasn't just war.
It was the end of *choices*.
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