The moon hung low over the mist-laced lake of Arvalin, a realm lost in both space and memory—hidden between folds of reality, stitched only by spirit threads and forgotten oaths. It was here that the next call emerged: not from a fragment, but from something far more elusive.
Rei stood at the lake's edge, cloak trailing behind him, eyes fixed on the silver reflection that rippled in unnatural patterns. Noira, standing beside him, knelt down and placed her palm on the water. Her expression tightened.
"This place bleeds silence," she whispered. "Like a wound left open too long."
Mireille stepped forward, carrying a tome bound in starlight leather—the Codex of Forgotten Courts, retrieved from the archives beneath Velstra's sealed sanctum.
"There's something here," she said. "A convergence. Not a fragment, but a spirit throne—the remnants of the Silver Court."
Eirenne's voice wavered. "The Silver Court? I thought they were only myth. Spirits that governed balance before even the original fragments existed."
Rei said nothing. His eyes glowed faintly.
> [System Synchronization: High-Order Signal Detected. Accessing Spirit Protocol Layer 4...]
Karasu's voice boomed in warning. "You're opening a gate that doesn't forget, Rei. The Court remembers every betrayal—every lost name. Tread carefully."
He stepped onto the lake.
The moment his foot touched the silver surface, it solidified into glass. The air shivered.
The lake parted.
A staircase of moonlight and memory spiraled downward, leading into a void that breathed like a sleeping god.
---
The Silver Court.
A cathedral made of broken halos and frozen feathers. Ghosts walked its halls, silent judges draped in shrouds of eternity. They did not speak—they merely watched, their eyes devoid of malice, yet sharp with inquiry.
At the center, a throne of crystal.
A figure sat there, unmoving. Neither alive nor dead, her form shimmered with the essence of long-forgotten pacts.
"You enter without herald. Without rite," the voice echoed not through ears, but through the soul. "Why?"
Rei stepped forward, defiant yet composed.
"I come to reclaim what was lost. To gather the pieces that were broken not by time—but by choice."
A moment of stillness.
Then, the throne pulsed.
> [Judgement Initiated. Spirit Anchor Challenge Commenced.]
Wings of light burst forth from the shadows.
The battle began—not of blades, but of resonance. Rei stood firm as waves of forgotten guilt, pain, and doubt surged toward him.
Eirenne screamed as her body shimmered with unstable spirit flux. Mireille knelt, clutching her pendant as it cracked. Noira bared her teeth, shielding the others.
And Rei?
He roared.
Spirit energy cascaded around him, not as fire or shadow—but as truth. His memories surged forth: of death, rebirth, longing, and resolve. Of standing alone and choosing, again and again, not to break.
The throne dimmed.
The voice whispered again. "Very well."
> [Trial Passed. Spirit Seat Accepted. Synchronization Level: 54% — Court Warden Access Granted.]
From the throne, a shard flew into Rei's chest.
He gasped—then fell to one knee.
Karasu murmured in awe. "You've claimed a seat no mortal ever touched. You've become... something they can't define."
The ghosts bowed.
Not in reverence.
But in acknowledgment.
---
When they emerged from the lake's depths, the sky had changed. Clouds parted as if in greeting. Far above, new stars shimmered in recognition.
Mireille placed a hand on Rei's shoulder. "What did you leave behind?"
He turned toward the horizon. "A name."
Eirenne looked confused. "A name?"
Rei nodded. "The one I had before all this. I don't need it anymore."