Aiden stood frozen as the last shimmering fragment of Yunaria's projection faded into the orchard's gentle golden dusk.
The silence that followed was not peaceful.
It pressed against his ears like the world itself was holding its breath.
He finally exhaled.
"…She knows something," he muttered. "And she's hiding more."
The shimmering paths of the Celestial Orchard flickered faintly in response, as if acknowledging him. Aiden's fingers brushed the glowing apple still hovering beside him — the Memory Fruit. Its light pulsed like a heartbeat.
"Right," he whispered. "Focus. Find the Archivist's core. Find Yunaria again."
He didn't have a map. But the orchard itself seemed to reconfigure around him — branches knitting into arches, golden leaves shifting like signposts, fruit glowing brighter along a newly formed trail.
The world was guiding him.
He began walking.
◆ ◆ ◆
The orchard grew stranger the deeper Aiden went.
The tranquil rows of fruit trees gradually gave way to towering crystalline pillars. The "fruit" here were no longer apples — each orb was a floating shard of light, spinning slowly, radiating fragments of images that dissolved before they could be fully understood.
He passed one.
A battlefield.
A broken crown.
A face like his, older — bleeding, smiling, dying.
Aiden flinched.
The image shattered into dust.
"…Was that— me?" he breathed.
A soft voice answered from behind him.
"Yes. And no."
Aiden spun around.
A woman stood there — hooded in deep midnight blue, her robe embroidered with star-patterns that shifted like living constellations. Her eyes were entirely silver, like moons polished into mirrors.
"Who—?"
"I am Archivist Node-04, caretaker of the Orchard's Inner Layer," she said calmly. "You may call me Seris."
She bowed slightly.
"And you, Aiden Vale… are late."
"Late?" Aiden asked. "For what?"
Seris turned, gesturing for him to follow as the orchard parted before her. "For fate, for disaster, for hope — choose whichever interpretation you prefer. None of them would be wrong."
"That… doesn't explain anything."
Seris smiled faintly. "Then allow me to explain something simple first."
She stopped before a massive crystal tree — its trunk translucent like frozen lightning, its branches endless.
"This is the Chronicle Tree," Seris said. "The core of this Orchard. Every erased world winds its memory through its roots. Every forgotten soul leaves an echo on its branches."
She touched her palm to the trunk.
Thousands of lights burst across the tree's surface — scenes spiraling past like galaxies being born and dying in seconds.
"Then why am I here?" Aiden asked quietly.
Seris gazed at him — and for the first time, her expression shifted into something like pity.
"Because the Chronicle Tree only summons those who were erased."
The air left Aiden's lungs.
"…I'm one of them?"
"One of the last," Seris said. "One of the few whose existence still fights to remain."
He staggered back. His pulse thundered in his ears.
Erased.
Like the memories he didn't have.
Like the fragments he kept seeing.
"Seris," Aiden said slowly. "Yunaria… she told me I was part of something called the Lost Lineage—"
He stopped when Seris flinched.
It was subtle, but real.
"You know what it means, don't you?"
Seris inhaled — a long, deliberate breath.
"The Lost Lineage… are those born from the last kingdom erased by the Astraxion Collapse."
Aster… Astraxion.
The massive dragon-like shape he had glimpsed before. The name vibrated at the edge of his memory like an old scar reopening.
"What happened to them?" Aiden asked, voice hoarse.
Seris lowered her eyes.
"Everything."
The word felt like a knife.
"Your kingdom — the Solaryn Dominion — was wiped from time by the Astraxion Surge. Only fragments remain, and only those with strong enough will endure as echoes."
She looked up at him.
"You are one such echo."
"But that can't be," Aiden said, hands trembling. "I'm just… a guy. From a world with normal physics and school exams and—"
"Are you?" Seris whispered. "Aiden… think carefully.
Do your memories truly feel whole?
Or do they feel like stitched patches where pieces never quite connect?"
Aiden froze.
Because she was right.
He remembered Earth, but parts of it felt wrong — like a dream too consistent, too safe, too curated.
"Yunaria knew this too," Aiden whispered.
"She did," Seris confirmed. "And she feared telling you the rest."
Aiden swallowed. "The rest?"
Seris placed a hand on the Chronicle Tree.
The branches glowed.
"This Tree is dying."
Aiden's heart dropped. "Dying? But… why?"
"Because something is feeding on erased worlds faster than the Orchard can preserve them."
Lights on the branches dimmed — one after another, disappearing like candle flames being snuffed out.
A cold shiver crawled down his spine.
"What's doing that?"
Seris's silver eyes narrowed.
"The same thing that erased your kingdom.
The same thing hunting you even now."
The air changed — and Aiden felt it before he saw it:
A whisper.
A vibration.
A low primal growl echoing through the orchard.
Seris snapped her head up.
"No… they followed you?"
Aiden turned — and dread twisted his stomach.
A tear opened in the air like a wound.
Black mist spilled out, distorting the golden orchard into sickly green.
Two luminous red eyes blinked from the rift.
"Seris— what— what is that?"
Seris stepped forward, summoning a shimmering barrier with a wave of her hand.
"An Oblivion Maw," she said sharply. "A predator formed from the nothingness left behind after worlds are devoured."
It screeched.
Branches withered.
Fruit dimmed.
Reality warped around its claws like water pulled into a drain.
Seris thrust her staff toward Aiden.
"Aiden! Run—!"
The Maw lunged.
Aiden felt something ignite in his chest.
A burning, spiraling force — like a sun cracking inside his ribs.
His vision flared white.
Seris shouted something — a warning? A spell? A scream?
Aiden didn't hear.
He moved instinctively— raising his hand.
A circle of radiant symbols burst from his palm.
Archivist Sigils.
But ancient.
Royal.
The Maw shrieked as the sigils wrapped around it, ripping its form apart like tearing shadows from the floor.
Light exploded.
Then—
Darkness.
◆ ◆ ◆
Aiden's consciousness drifted.
He wasn't unconscious. Nor awake.
He floated through something deeper — a space between memory and dream.
A voice reached him.
Low.
Ancient.
Cracking the universe open with every syllable.
"So… the last heir awakens."
Aiden's breath hitched.
"Who… who are you?"
Red-gold eyes like dying stars opened in the void.
"I am Astraxion," the voice thundered.
"The Devourer of Worlds.
The one who ended your kingdom.
And the one who will claim you next."
Aiden's body froze.
Fear hollowed him.
"You erased my home," Aiden whispered.
A sound rumbled — laughter like cracking tectonic plates.
"I erased thousands. Yours was merely… in the way."
A wave of rage rose in Aiden's chest — sudden, fierce, primal.
He met the dragon's eyes.
And Astraxion paused.
"Interesting…"
"…your flame has not gone out."
The world shattered—
Light tore upward—
Aiden woke with a gasp.
◆ ◆ ◆
He lay on the orchard floor.
Smoke curled from the ground around him.
Seris knelt beside him — bruised, exhausted, but alive.
"You—" she whispered, staring at him with something between awe and shock.
"Aiden… what did you do?"
He sat up slowly.
"I saw… something. A dragon. Astraxion."
Seris froze.
"You spoke with it?"
"I think so."
She inhaled sharply. "Then Chapter 2 ends differently than I feared."
Aiden blinked. "Chapter… 2?"
Seris smiled faintly.
"The story of the Erased Worlds is written in cycles. Each marked by crises. And each with a single chosen to break the chain."
Her silver eyes glowed softly.
"Aiden Vale…
You are not here to discover your past.
You are here to decide whether the future continues to exist at all."
Aiden swallowed hard.
"…Then show me everything. No more secrets."
Seris nodded.
"Very well.
Then Chapter 3 begins… when you take your first step toward the Archivist Throne."
Aiden stood — legs trembling but steady.
"Then point me to it."
Seris did.
And the orchard opened its final path.