The world between realms groaned.
Shattered fragments of light drifted in the void like dying stars, and every step Lyra took seemed to echo endlessly through nothingness.
Her body trembled with exhaustion, but the crystal at her chest pulsed — warm, insistent, alive.
"Almost there," she whispered, though her voice wavered. "Arka… wait for me."
The void shifted. Lines of starlight began to form beneath her feet, weaving a bridge that extended into the endless dark. Each step she took made the path glow brighter, until it split into three directions — past, present, and what felt like something beyond even time itself.
The Balance was calling her — testing her.
From the silence, a whisper emerged. "Lyra…"
She froze. The voice was soft and cold, like wind moving through ancient stone. "Who's there?"
Then came the figure — not Arka, but something that wore his face. His eyes were too bright, too empty.
"You seek him," the figure said, "but you don't understand what he's become."
Lyra's fingers tightened around her crystal. "You're not him."
"No," the figure admitted. "I am what remains of his shadow. The part of him that will vanish when the Balance chooses its heart."
Her pulse quickened. "What do you mean?"
"The Balance cannot exist with two anchors — one light, one dark. One of you must give everything for the other to live."
She stepped back. "That's a lie."
"Is it?" The shadow smiled faintly. "You already feel it, don't you? Every time your power grows, his weakens. Every time you remember, he forgets."
Lyra's heart clenched. There had been moments — small ones — when Arka's presence had flickered through their bond like a heartbeat skipping. She'd dismissed it as distance. Now she wasn't so sure.
"I won't choose between us," she said firmly.
"Then the world will choose for you."
The bridge beneath her cracked, fracturing into ribbons of light. The shadow lunged, but Lyra thrust out her hand, summoning a burst of starlight that forced it back.
"Even if the Balance demands one heart," she said, her eyes glowing gold, "then I'll make it remember both."
The void around her rippled — no longer darkness, but threads of memory unraveling. She could see glimpses of another world: Arka standing before a crumbling spire, the First Echo watching from the shadows.
Lyra began to run.
The bridge solidified again, glowing with a mix of silver and gold — the sign of a converging Balance. The closer she came to the spire, the more violently the air trembled.
The sound of a heartbeat filled everything — hers and Arka's, overlapping.
Then, light exploded.
She fell forward, crashing through the threshold into a realm made of fractured glass and endless skies. At the center stood Arka — alive, scarred, his eyes half-lit with blue flame.
He turned slowly, relief flickering across his face before hardening into dread.
"Lyra… you shouldn't have come."
She stumbled closer, tears in her eyes. "You think I'd leave you to face him alone?"
A faint smile tugged at his lips. "You don't understand. The Balance—it's already decided."
From the shadows behind him, the First Echo emerged, calm and patient as ever. "Welcome, child of starlight. You've come to complete the circle."
Lyra raised her crystal. "You can't control it. Not anymore."
The Echo tilted his head, almost kind. "Oh, I don't control it. I am it."
The ground split, and the light from both Arka and Lyra surged upward, spiraling into a vast core above them — a glowing sphere of white and void energy twisting in conflict.
The Balance was collapsing.
Arka reached out, gripping her arm tightly. "Listen to me. If it takes one of us—"
"No," she snapped, cutting him off. "We decide that. Not it."
Their eyes locked.
For a moment, time stood still.
The Balance pulsed once, twice — then shattered into a blinding storm of color, consuming everything.
When the light faded, Lyra and Arka were gone. Only the Echo remained, standing within the storm's calm center.
He smiled faintly, his voice a whisper carried on the wind.
"So the choice has been made…"
Far above, two lights rose — one gold, one blue — spiraling together into a single path that led beyond the sky.
The Path of Convergence had begun.