Light folded inward like a collapsing star.
Aiden stumbled as he emerged on the other side of the portal, falling onto cool stone. The dizzying blur of colors bled away, replaced by a dim, quiet chamber lit by floating crystal lanterns.
He gasped for air, chest burning.
Mythras stumbled out next, leaning heavily on his staff. His bark-skin had deep cracks running across it, and faint embers glowed beneath the breaks.
Seraphyne stepped out last, immediately turning and slashing her bow through the portal seam, severing the connection. The fold snapped shut with a sharp pulse.
Silence.
Aiden slowly pushed himself to his feet.
The chamber was circular, its walls carved with constellations that moved subtly— shifting positions as if adjusting to some unseen cosmic rhythm. Ornate archways branched outward into corridors, each marked with symbols Aiden somehow felt he recognized.
Mythras steadied himself.
Seraphyne glanced at him pointedly. "You're losing sap."
"It will regenerate," Mythras muttered.
"You said that last century."
Aiden blinked. "…Century?"
Mythras coughed lightly. "Do not take her literally. She enjoys exaggeration."
Seraphyne tilted her head. "You were literally falling apart."
Mythras snapped, "I am FINE!"
A single piece of bark slid off his arm and clattered onto the stone.
Aiden winced.
Seraphyne crossed her arms. "We need to stabilize him."
Mythras waved her off. "Later. The king comes first."
Aiden stiffened. "Stop calling me that."
Mythras turned, his expression softening. "I understand your discomfort, Aiden. But your title is not ceremonial. It is metaphysical."
Seraphyne gestured to the chamber. "And the metaphysics of your existence are… problematic."
Aiden exhaled shakily. "Where are we?"
Mythras tapped the floor with his staff.
"The Astral Archive. A sanctuary built to store the memories of worlds lost to destruction. Or at least…" His gaze dimmed. "It used to be."
Aiden looked around.
He felt something here.
A familiarity.
A resonance.
Images flickered briefly on the walls— faint silhouettes of people he didn't recognize, places he couldn't name, a burning castle, a silver tower splitting under the weight of a star.
He staggered slightly.
Seraphyne caught his arm. "Do not stare too long. The archive responds to memory echoes. Your mind is… volatile."
Aiden swallowed. "Then tell me what I'm supposed to do."
Mythras approached him carefully. "In time, you will reclaim what was stolen from you. But first—there is someone who wishes to speak with you."
Aiden's breath caught.
"…Who?"
Before Mythras could answer, the crystals on the ceiling pulsed.
A gentle hum filled the chamber.
A projection formed in the air — not digital, not magic, but something in between. A smooth veil of shimmering light condensed into a silhouette.
A woman's silhouette.
Aiden's heart stopped.
Silver hair.
Soft eyes.
A look of sorrow and determination.
Yunaria.
Aiden's chest tightened painfully. His legs nearly buckled.
"Yuni…"
The projection flickered, stabilizing into a clear image. Yunaria looked older than the vision in the collapsing world— tired, desperate, her light dimmer but more resolute.
Her voice was soft and strained.
> "Aiden…
If you're seeing this, then the inevitable has happened."
Aiden stumbled forward. "Yunaria?! You— Are you alive? Where are you?!"
He reached out to touch the projection, but his hand passed through it like mist.
Mythras placed a hand on his shoulder. "This is a memory imprint— not her real-time presence."
The projection continued.
> "I don't know how much of yourself you remember. If the crown awakened, if Astraxion found you again, if the Hunters reached the orchard…
But listen carefully."
Seraphyne's expression sharpened.
Yunaria's eyes lifted, as if staring directly at Aiden's soul.
> "You must not trust the Archive's keepers blindly."
Aiden froze.
His gaze snapped to Mythras—who stiffened.
Seraphyne's hand drifted toward her bow.
The projection flickered again.
> "They mean well. Some of them.
But others fear what you are.
And there is one among them who—"
The projection glitched violently.
Yunaria's image distorted, then returned with heavy static.
> "—who betrayed us."
Mythras paled.
Seraphyne tightened her grip on her bowstring.
Aiden's heart raced. "Who? Who betrayed us?!"
The projection shook, as if resisting interference.
> "Aiden…
Do not let them seal you again."
Aiden stopped breathing.
Again?
Yunaria's final words were faint, but they hit him like a falling star.
> "Find me… before they erase you too."
Her image shattered— dissolving into fragments of light that drifted into the air.
The chamber fell silent.
Aiden trembled, sweat cold on his skin.
"Mythras…" he whispered, voice raw. "What did she mean by seal me again?"
Mythras closed his eyes.
Seraphyne answered instead.
"Exactly what it sounds like. Someone in the Archive doesn't want you to exist."
Aiden's stomach dropped.
Mythras' voice was barely a whisper.
"Aiden…
there is something else you need to know."
Aiden turned to him slowly, dread pooling in his chest.
Mythras swallowed hard.
"The Hunters…
weren't after you because you survived."
Aiden blinked. "Then why—?"
Mythras' expression twisted with fear.
"They were after you because your world's erasure is incomplete."
Aiden's blood ran cold.
Seraphyne whispered:
"…and something from it is still following you."