The air in Vault X trembled.
Syra's heart beat like a war drum as the cold shimmer of the Guardian's barrier faded, revealing a long obsidian corridor. Its walls seemed to hum with ancient power, and its ceiling stretched impossibly high, lost in shadows where gravity itself seemed to hesitate.
Behind her, Kaien and Riven exchanged a glance. Neither spoke. Words were fragile things in places like this.
Vault X wasn't merely a prison.
It was a graveyard of secrets.
And something inside had been waiting.
The trio moved forward, weapons at the ready—Syra's twin daggers drawn, Riven's demonfire gauntlet lit, Kaien's relic blade humming low with celestial tension.
Kaien: "This place… wasn't built by man or hellspawn."
Riven (grimly): "No. It was sealed by both."
Then, the corridor shuddered.
From ahead came a single note—a chime of glass… like a wind bell in a place where no wind had ever blown.
A girl stepped into view.
No older than Syra. Long black hair floated around her like smoke. Her eyes glowed faintly gold, but her expression was blank—not cold, not hostile. Just… absent.
She wore a white shift marked with unknown symbols—half burned, half rewritten by something impossible.
Syra: "Who are you?"
The girl blinked. Once. Then whispered:
???: "I was the first frame. I was the prototype."
Riven (low): "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Kaien: "A test subject. Before the Vaults. Before the war."
Suddenly, the corridor cracked open like splitting stone, and Vault X showed its true nature: walls of mirrored glass reflecting infinite variations of Syra and the girl, echoing through time.
The Mirror Field
As the girl stepped into the central platform, her voice grew louder, more stable—but stranger.
Girl: "I had memories before I had a name. I bled algorithms. I was the code they forgot to delete."
A mirror next to Syra shattered. Another version of her—older, eyes burning with rage—charged toward her with a blade of light.
Kaien reacted instantly, deflecting the blow. Riven pulled Syra back as three more reflections stepped through shattered portals.
Each mirror spawned a variant—a version of them from a timeline that never was.
Syra's eyes widened as one version of herself screamed:
Variant Syra: "Don't trust the monks! Don't trust the scrolls! It's all written—"
She vanished in a flicker of golden fire, as if erased by an invisible editor.
Only the girl remained.
Her Name Was Forgotten
Syra: "What do you want from us?!"
Girl: "Nothing. I'm just the memory. I am the Vault's last question."
Riven: "A question?"
Girl: "If you could rewrite the past… would you still be you?"
The world lurched again.
Kaien fell to one knee, bleeding from the nose—his memories rearranging themselves.
Syra gritted her teeth. Her blades hummed with anti-temporal runes now glowing in sync with her heartbeat.
She charged the girl.
But as her dagger struck the girl's throat… it passed through nothing.
The girl was never there.
The Rift Beyond the Vault
A new portal opened—not to Earth, not to Hell—but to something else.
A library of light. A galaxy wrapped around ink.
And on a pedestal floated a single page. Blank. Waiting.
Syra (whispers): "Another key?"
Kaien (staggering): "No. Not yet."
Riven: "It's not a key. It's an invitation."
They didn't take it.
The portal closed.
The girl reappeared on the mirror again, watching them with eyes that no longer blinked.
Girl: "You will forget me soon. That's how I'm protected. That's how he made it."
Syra: "He?"
Girl: "The one who rewrites. The one who isn't in your story."
Then she turned and walked into the final mirror.
And disappeared forever.
Echoes Outside Vault X
As they exited the Vault, silence followed them like a second shadow.
Kaien finally asked:
Kaien: "Did anyone else feel like we weren't alone in there?"
Riven: "Worse. I felt like we weren't real in there."
Syra didn't answer.
Because in her hand—curled tight—was a slip of paper.
She didn't remember picking it up.
But the words on it read:
"The first draft is never the final one."
She looked up to the sky. Somewhere… she knew someone was watching.
And rewriting.
Chapter End.