Moonlight dripped like silver paint over the moss-veiled stones of the Echo Gardens. Cracked archways loomed over scattered petals, their scents ghostlike. Between the marble roots of crumbling statues, glyphs shimmered—sleeping. Watching.
Sera hated it here.
"This place is cursed," she whispered, arms folded tight against the wind.
"It's sacred," Ayaka corrected gently. She moved ahead, leading them with the practiced gait of someone who had walked this path long before. "The Garden reflects who you are. Or… who you fear becoming."
Akira trailed behind, one hand on the hilt of his blade, the other brushing against the strange vines that grew across the ground—glyph-touched plants that glowed blue when you were near a lie.
He felt them flare whenever he opened his mouth.
"Why bring us here?" Sera asked, glaring. "We've barely recovered from the ambush."
"Because what comes next will break you if you don't confront your shadows first," Ayaka said, voice flat. "Queen Fresha is waking, and the glyphs are changing. If you go forward without knowing what you truly carry, you'll die."
A glyph stone glimmered ahead. Blue-white and breathing.
Ayaka stopped.
"This is where we split."
Sera blinked. "What do you—?"
The glyph beneath her feet surged. So did the ones beneath Akira and Ayaka. A moment later, they vanished from each other's sight—pulled into separate realms carved from starlight and memory.
---
AKIRA
The world around Akira slowed. The scent of cherry bark filled his lungs. When he opened his eyes, he stood in the ruins of the Imperial Tower—except it wasn't ruined. It gleamed, whole and golden. The glyphs on its walls pulsed with pristine light.
But something was wrong.
The air wept.
Then he saw it.
Kurumi lay at the foot of the throne steps, bleeding out.
Her hair clung to her cheek like ink, her fingers reaching for him as he stood frozen mid-step. She mouthed something—his name.
Akira's legs wouldn't move.
He looked up.
Himself.
Or—an older version. Robes torn, arm ablaze with Crest Form sigils, eyes like burning comets. This version of Akira stood atop the stairs, blade drawn—but he hesitated.
He had waited.
And because of that—Kurumi was dying.
"No," Akira breathed. "This isn't—this didn't happen."
The older Akira looked down at him, sneering. "Yet. You still fear this. You always have. That when the moment comes, you'll freeze again. You'll let her die."
"I—no—I won't."
"You did."
The vision blurred.
Akira roared, lunging forward, trying to change it—but the ground shattered under him, pulling him back into the Gardens.
---
SERA
Her Garden wasn't green.
It was cold. Black stone and throne-pillars loomed around her. Above, the stars were gone—only a gray void remained.
She sat on a throne.
Her hair braided like her mother's, glyph crown resting atop her brow.
And not a single soul knelt before her.
Empty halls. Empty power.
Then—a mirror appeared. Smooth, hovering mid-air. It showed a girl who was no longer soft-eyed and unsure. It showed Queen Sera, ruler of a realm carved by frost.
Alone.
"You wanted this," the mirror whispered.
"No—"
"You wanted to prove you weren't her shadow."
Sera clenched her fists. "I wanted to protect people."
"And yet you rule with silence. They fear you. You love no one. And no one loves you."
The mirror shimmered.
Sera saw Akira—bloodied, walking away. Kurumi—dead. Ayaka—burned.
And herself. Still on the throne.
Smiling.
"No!" she screamed. "That's not me!"
But the glyph at her chest glowed.
And it didn't lie.
---
AYAKA
The garden was on fire.
Smoke blurred the petals, ashes falling like snow. She walked through it slowly, sandals crunching against bone.
Students.
So many students.
Their robes burned, their hands outstretched, glyphs flickering uselessly on their dying skin. They cried out for help.
And Ayaka did not move.
"Why didn't you fight?" one whispered.
"You said the war wasn't ours," another coughed.
"You let us burn."
Ayaka dropped to her knees.
"I was trying to keep you safe," she whispered.
The flames didn't care.
"You let the Queen fall. You let the rebellion rise. You trained us to obey, and then abandoned us."
She closed her eyes.
One by one, her students stepped into the fire and vanished.
And she was left kneeling in ash.
---
Back in the Gardens
One by one, they returned.
Akira, panting and pale, gripping the hilt of his sword so tightly his knuckles had gone white.
Ayaka, silent, brushing cinders from her sleeves that weren't truly there.
Sera came last. Her expression unreadable. Her eyes red.
No one spoke.
For a long time, they stood among the glowing stones, letting the silence settle.
Then Sera sat down, back against a tree that bloomed with black roses.
"You know," she said, after a long silence, "I used to envy her."
Akira turned. "Kurumi?"
She nodded.
Ayaka tilted her head. "Why?"
Sera laughed bitterly. "Because Justin looked at her like she was a secret worth dying for. I was his sister. But she was… everything else."
Ayaka knelt beside her. "Sera…"
"I hated her sometimes. Even though she never did anything wrong." Her voice wavered. "She had his love. His attention. His burden. I thought—maybe—if she died, he'd finally see me."
Akira sat down slowly. "And now?"
Sera looked up at the stars.
"I don't want to be the Queen anymore," she whispered. "If it means I become her mirror."
Akira's voice was quiet. "You won't."
"You saw your future, didn't you?" she asked, looking at him now. "What did you lose?"
He didn't answer right away.
Then: "Kurumi."
Sera nodded. "Then don't hesitate next time."
"I won't."
She smiled faintly. "I believe you."
Ayaka looked between them. "Fresha's reawakening is accelerating. The glyphs in the Garden shouldn't have reacted this strongly. That means the crystal's echo is affecting time itself."
Akira stood. "Then we need to go back."
Sera looked up. "To the Spire?"
Ayaka shook her head.
"To the Sanctum of the First Glyph. There's a key there. A way to unwind the bond before Fresha takes full anchor in Kurumi."
Akira's fists clenched.
Sera exhaled.
The roses around them wilted as they stood together again.
The stars above shimmered red.
And somewhere far beneath the earth, the Queen stirred. Her heartbeat echoed through the glyphlines.
She was no longer dreaming.
---
To be continued.