The night air over eastern Kuoh shimmered, not from heat or light, but from the residue of dimensional friction. Stars above blinked slower than usual, as if the cosmos itself was hesitating to see what would come next.
Rei walked ahead of the group, his steps quiet but steady. The transformation he had undergone after the Silver Court trial hadn't merely changed his energy signature—it had rewritten parts of his very being. Even his footsteps now echoed with layered tones, like fragments of voices from different timelines trying to catch up.
Mireille, walking close behind, studied him with a mixture of fascination and worry. "You don't even blink the same way anymore."
He offered a half-smile. "I see more when I don't blink."
Eirenne, ever watchful, scanned the horizon. "The call is getting stronger. Something is drawing us east. But not like the fragments before. This feels older... and personal."
Noira, unusually silent, nodded. Her hands never strayed far from her twin blades. "It's not the Sixth Fragment. It's a throne. One that was never meant to be claimed."
---
They arrived at a dead field.
Once, this land had been a sacred grove—a neutral space in the old wars between spirits and mythic beings. Now it was barren. The trees were petrified, locked in twisted agony as if they had seen something so terrible their growth was frozen in place.
At the center stood a broken spire, carved from obsidian and angelic bone.
Rei stepped forward, and the winds immediately howled.
> [Spirit System Alert: Unknown Crown Detected. Energy Source: Echo Constructed.]
Karasu's voice returned, colder than usual. "This... isn't just a throne. It's a rejected god's inheritance. A convergence of failed ascensions."
The base of the spire cracked open like a blooming lotus. Stairs spiraled downward.
Rei descended.
---
The chamber below was vast and endless, though clearly underground. Floating memory-ribbons drifted between giant arches, each one showing a different history—alternate versions of events, fragments of battles never fought, allies never met.
In the center stood a crown.
It hovered above a pool of mercury-still water, forged of black glass and threadlight veins. It pulsed, as if breathing.
Mireille whispered, "What is that?"
Rei stepped closer. The moment he did, the crown spoke.
Not in words, but in emotion. Regret. Betrayal. Love lost. Worlds broken.
And ambition that refused to die.
> [Echo Crown: Forbidden Relic of the Shattered Era.] [Caution: Synchronization Will Rewrite Fundamental Spirit Law.]
Eirenne shouted, "Rei! This isn't a fragment. It's a declaration. If you take it—"
He reached out anyway.
The crown slammed into his chest like a comet.
The world bent.
---
He stood in a mirrorworld.
Ten versions of himself stood before him, each wearing different expressions: joy, sorrow, wrath, peace. Some bore scars he didn't yet have. Some wore uniforms of organizations that didn't exist.
One stepped forward.
"I'm what you become if you choose peace."
Another.
"I'm what you become if you choose vengeance."
A third.
"I'm what you become if you let go of everything."
Rei looked at them all. Then at the crown, hovering between them.
He didn't kneel. He didn't submit.
He said, "I'll take all of you with me. But I'll choose how I carry you."
And placed the crown on his head.
---
The real world shattered with light.
Rei's body pulsed once, and a ripple spread across the spirit network.
Mireille fell to her knees. Noira covered her eyes. Eirenne held the ground to keep from collapsing.
When the light faded, Rei stood there.
Crowned. But unchanged.
Yet profoundly different.
Karasu whispered, "You've done it. You've become a sovereign echo. You now carry the will of failed gods."
Rei opened his eyes. "Then I'll show them what failure looks like when it stands back up."
Above them, the sky turned violet.
And something ancient woke up.