The moment they stepped through the Rift Gate, everything went sideways—literally.
The world twisted like a spiraling lens, and gravity lost all meaning. Nuel felt like he was falling and floating at once, his limbs weightless and cold. A hum ran through his bones, deeper than sound—like a chorus of voices trying to remember how to sing.
Then—solid ground.
They landed in a forest unlike any they'd seen. The trees were bone-white, their leaves like shimmering glass. The sky overhead pulsed with threads of gold, lavender, and deep green, constantly shifting like a liquid dream.
Elara steadied herself. "Where… are we?"
Kael took a slow breath. "Not a place. A between. This Rift doesn't connect two spaces—it bridges a memory and a possibility."
Nyra's eyes narrowed. "And that's not dangerous how?"
Nuel said nothing. He was already walking ahead, drawn toward a clearing just beyond the trees. Something tugged at him, soft and persistent.
They followed.
In the clearing, a small house stood—quaint, brick-lined, with a slate roof. Flowers bloomed along the path. A garden was half-dug, a red spade leaning against the fence.
Nuel stopped.
He knew this house.
"This is my home," he whispered.
The others exchanged glances.
"Before the Fracture," Nuel added. "I haven't seen it since… since they vanished."
Kael frowned. "This is a construct. Echoed from your memories, or someone's memory of this place. Don't trust it."
Nuel moved forward anyway.
The front door creaked open at his touch. Inside, everything was exactly as he remembered: the worn rug, the old wooden clock ticking on the wall, the faint smell of chamomile and ginger.
And then—
"Nuel?"
He froze.
A voice—his mother's.
He turned slowly. Down the hallway stood a figure, backlit by pale gold light. A woman in a long green dress, her face soft and familiar, but blurred at the edges like a painting in rain.
"Mum?" he whispered.
She stepped forward.
"I knew you'd come," she said, her voice trembling. "You were always brave."
Nuel reached out. "Where are you? Are you alive?"
But her smile faltered. Her form flickered, glitching like a damaged recording.
"You must wake up," she said, and her voice began to multiply—one tone, then two, then five, overlapping. "He's searching… he's coming… you must—"
The room exploded in light.
Nuel staggered back, blinking.
The house was gone. So was the garden. The clearing now sat beneath a dark sky, filled with whispering wind. Kael grabbed him.
"What did you see?"
"She was here," Nuel said. "My mum. She spoke to me."
Nyra shook her head. "That was a Rift construct."
"No," he said, clutching the bracelet. "It was her. She remembered me. She knew things I'd never told anyone."
Kael's expression turned grim. "Then you need to prepare. Because if she's in this Rift—fragmented, displaced—someone or something else may be holding her there."
Elara placed a hand on Nuel's shoulder. "We'll find her. You're not alone."
Nuel nodded, trying to keep his breath steady. He felt like the world had opened and closed again, just enough to let him glimpse what might still be.
They made camp beneath a twisted willow whose branches glowed softly in the dark. Kael kept watch while the others rested.
Nuel sat cross-legged, eyes closed, focusing on the bracelet. For the first time, he didn't try to force anything. He just listened.
And something answered.
A pulse—slow, rhythmic. Then images: scattered papers, a blue scarf, a boy's laugh in a hallway full of mirrors. A voice, faint but real: "Remember the red door."
His eyes snapped open.
"Elara," he said, waking her gently. "Does a red door mean anything to you?"
She blinked sleepily. "There's an old facility… outside the city's north ruins. Red entrance. It was sealed after the Fracture."
Nuel nodded. "That's our next stop."
Kael, still watching from the edge, didn't turn. "Then get ready. If someone or something wants you to find it, it's likely a trap."
"I don't care," Nuel said. "If my family's even possibly still alive, I'm going."
Kael finally looked at him—and, for once, nodded without argument.