Darkness swallowed Haruto whole.
There was no pain. No sound. Just a void—empty yet somehow aware. He floated, bodiless, lost in the space between thought and memory.
But then…
A voice pierced the silence.
"You were never meant to survive this long."
Haruto opened his eyes.
He stood in a memory—his own—but warped. The sky was green, the sun cracked like broken glass. A village burned in the distance, and at the center of it all stood… himself.
But not the shadow.
This version was calm, composed, dressed in robes of midnight silk. His eyes glowed not with fire, but with sorrow.
"Who are you now?" Haruto asked.
The figure turned slowly. "The one who chose to forget. And the one who suffers for it."
Suddenly, the world shattered like glass.
---
Haruto gasped awake.
He lay on the floor of the Vault, the crystal pillars now dimmed. Kaela knelt beside him, relief flooding her face. Lucien stood nearby, blade drawn.
"What… happened?" Haruto asked, sitting up.
"You collapsed," Kaela said. "That thing vanished after it struck you. It didn't kill you."
"No," Haruto muttered, "because it can't. It's not allowed to destroy the vessel."
Lucien frowned. "Vessel?"
Haruto rose, clutching the Nullblade. "I wasn't fighting a memory. I was fighting what I left behind—the part of me that held the truth."
He looked at the now-dark pedestal.
"And the Vault didn't contain treasure. It contained a warning."
Kaela touched his arm. "What now?"
Haruto stared at the exit—now open. Sunlight poured in, but it felt colder than before.
"We find the others," he said. "We prepare. Because whatever was sealed here… is awake now."