Floating bridges twisted between reality shards, forming paths that vanished behind them as they stepped forward.
Each footfall was weightless but final.
Lucien kept Hana close. She was silent, more focused than he'd ever seen her. In the In-Between, her presence shimmered subtly, like the realm recognized her.
Seonwu walked a few steps ahead, blades drawn. Ae-rin followed behind, bandaging her wounded arm while scanning for threats.
The Compass no longer glowed. They didn't need it now. The pull toward the Fortress of Echoes came from something deeper, like a heartbeat calling them home.
Or into a trap.
Inside the Fortress
At the gate, runes shifted and dissolved as Hana approached.
No key.
No passcode.
Only her presence.
The obsidian doors opened with a low moan.
Inside was a grand hall built from memories: shifting staircases, floating candlelight, and ceilings painted in stories of past lives. Souls drifted past like translucent reflections some in traditional garb, some in war-torn uniforms, others wearing modern coats and sorrow.
Lucien felt something stir inside him. A pain.
Memories he hadn't lived.
Wars he hadn't fought.
A woman's voice calling him across time.
"You were always meant to return."
He turned, but no one was there.
Hana touched his arm. "Are you hearing it too?"
He nodded. "Not voices. A life I forgot."
She whispered, "Then we're getting close."
The Throne Room
They entered a circular chamber lit by blue fire.
In its center sat a boy no more than six years old. Pale skin. Black hair. Silver eyes.
And around his small body hovered glowing chains etched with ancestral seals.
Lucien stopped breathing.
The boy lifted his head. "You came."
Hana stepped forward. "Who are you?"
"I'm what was taken from you," the boy said softly.
Lucien stepped beside her. "Are you our…?"
The boy blinked slowly. "I am and I'm not. I am the Echo Child. A fragment born in every cycle. A memory given flesh, waiting for the two of you to awaken."
Ae-rin frowned. "So, not human?"
The boy tilted his head. "More than. Less than."
Lucien crouched beside the boy. "Why do I feel like I know you?"
"Because in every life you've lived," the boy said, "I was the part you left behind."
Hana's voice cracked. "Is this… the cost of our love?"
"No," the boy said. "It's the anchor that brings you back."
Suddenly, the chains around him shivered.
From the walls, glyphs lit up warning signs.
Seonwu spun. "Something's coming."
The boy looked at Hana, eyes suddenly older than time. "You have to sever me. Or I'll become the next Gate."
"What does that mean?" she asked, voice trembling.
"If you don't cut the chains, the curse binds again. I become the lock. And you never return."
Lucien stood, fists clenched. "We won't let that happen."
"Then be ready," the boy said, "because the one who cursed us is already here."
Elsewhere in the Fortress
The woman in red placed her palm on a mirrored wall. Her reflection shifted not to herself, but to Hana.
"She's almost there," she murmured.
The masked man beside her spoke, "Do you want me to prepare the seal?"
"No," she said, her tone like a blade. "Let her meet the child. Let her feel what was stolen. When she breaks, then we bind her."
The masked man hesitated. "And the man?"
"Lucien is nothing without her. He'll shatter."
Back in the Throne Room
The Fortress began to shake.
The Echo Child stood.
"The curse stirs."
A crack opened in the ceiling above them, a storm of ash and fire swirled. A figure descended slowly, wrapped in obsidian armor. Its face was hidden behind a cracked porcelain mask. From its back extended wings made of severed time threads, each one pulsing with stolen lives.
Lucien grabbed Hana's hand. "Don't let go."
The boy's voice echoed with finality.
"One must be severed, or all will be lost."