The floor of the Vault blinked.
Not glowed. Not shimmered. Blink—like someone flipped reality off and on again.
"Did anyone else see that?" Eloryn asked.
"Nope," said Fenn. "But that usually means yes."
Another blink—this time longer. The walls wavered like heat haze, and threads unraveled mid-air before snapping back in place with a sound like cracking ice.
Pennrick dropped his tea.
"That's… bad," he said.
Maren stood, all joking gone. "What's happening?"
"The memory lattice is destabilizing," Pennrick said grimly. "Something—someone—has disrupted the anchoring thread."
He didn't have to say it aloud: only Eloryn had access to the core of the Vault. Her growing power had unlocked doors no Oracle before her had dared open.
"You mean… I broke it?" she asked.
Pennrick shook his head. "Not you, exactly. But your resonance is entangled with the Vault now. When you shift emotionally—when memories surface sharply—so does the structure. You're not just in the Vault anymore, Eloryn. You are part of it."
The floor blinked again—then fractured. A jagged crack split the air itself, revealing a void beneath filled with floating shards of memory: war, joy, love, flame.
"Time's breaking," Maren said quietly.
Fenn waved her hands wildly. "Well fix it! We have a Dreamwright! Dreamwright harder!"
Eloryn stepped forward, heart pounding.
She could feel it—threads snapping, folding in on themselves, begging for order.
"I need to anchor it," she murmured. "But not with memory. That's too unstable. I need something stronger…"
Pennrick frowned. "Stronger than memory?"
"Belief," she whispered.
Closing her eyes, she reached out—not for her past, but for the present. Her friendships. Her trust in them. Her laugh with Fenn. Maren's steady gaze. The way the Vault had started to feel like home.
A warm gold light bloomed around her, threads of memory braided with intent, with purpose.
She didn't try to restore the old lattice. She wove a new one.
Simpler. Lighter. Rooted not in the burden of the past—but in the hope of what could come.
The Vault shuddered.
And stilled.
Fenn exhaled. "Whoa. That felt like emotional plumbing."
Eloryn opened her eyes, exhausted but steady.
"I think," she said slowly, "I just rewrote part of the Vault's foundation."
Pennrick blinked. "Well. That's new. Also slightly terrifying. But mostly—good."
Maren put a hand on her shoulder. "You didn't break it. You're rebuilding it. In your own image."
Eloryn managed a tired grin. "Just… remind me not to get emotional again unless we're outside the memory realm."
Fenn tossed her a sweetbread. "Agreed. Next meltdown happens near snacks."
**************