: The Vault That Remembers

Chapter 35

The wind had no voice here — only the quiet rustle of memory.

Nezutsu and Kaelith stood at the edge of a valley that shimmered like broken time. Below them, crystalline ruins floated midair, arranged in a pattern that seemed to defy gravity and logic.

The Vault of Glass.

It wasn't a vault in the traditional sense — more a fractured observatory carved into the bones of a fallen god. A place built to forget, yet cursed to always remember.

Kaelith adjusted her cloak, her tone more reverent than usual.

"This is where the gods wrote the last prophecy — and broke themselves trying to forget it."

"So why are we going toward it?" Nezutsu asked.

"Because someone's rewriting the future again. And I think it's tied to you."

They descended slowly, each step down warping the air. Sometimes the stones beneath their feet looked like stone… and sometimes like faces.

Inside the Vault

The first door didn't open with touch — but with regret.

Kaelith whispered something Nezutsu couldn't hear. Her shadow twisted, and the crystalline gateway bloomed open.

Inside, everything was made of mirrored sand.

Each wall showed different moments from the past — not theirs, but possible pasts. Forks in fate. Forgotten futures.

Nezutsu touched one pane.

He saw a version of himself standing at a throne made of stars, burning everything — even Kaelith — with white fire.

He yanked his hand away.

"This place shows lies."

"No," Kaelith said. "It shows what could've been. That's worse."

They moved deeper.

Trial of the Forgotten

At the Vault's heart stood a floating eye — not mechanical, not alive. It shimmered with quivering glass threads, and spoke directly into their minds.

"To pass, the bearer of the Flame must prove memory and identity. Speak your name — the true one — or fade into myth."

Nezutsu stepped forward.

"I… am Nezutsu."

"Lies. That name was given after you were broken."

His body froze. Pain surged from the black feather still tucked in his sash.

"I don't know any other name!"

The Vault trembled.

"Then see."

And the chamber exploded into light.

A Submerged Memory

Nezutsu stood on a ship made of glass, sailing across a sea of ink. The sky was not sky, but swirling thoughts — guilt, grief, unspoken choices.

Across from him sat a girl.

Small. Familiar. Made of the same fire he once breathed.

"You promised you'd remember me," she said, voice quivering.

"I… don't know you."

"That's the point. You chose to forget."

A blade hovered above her chest, glowing with divine light. On its hilt: the symbol of the Fifth Flame.

"You killed me. To become you."

And the sea of ink swallowed her.

Return to the Vault

Nezutsu collapsed to his knees, gasping.

"What was that…?"

Kaelith helped him up.

"A piece of your origin. Not your childhood. Something before."

"I saw a girl. She was like me. She said I—"

He couldn't say it.

The Vault Eye spun slowly, satisfied.

"The Echo remembers a shadow. He may pass."

The final door opened — revealing a room made of starlight glass and floating glyphs.

At its center: a pedestal of crystal.

Resting upon it…

A book.

Bound in molten silver. Breathing like a living thing.

"This is it," Kaelith whispered. "The Final Codex. The last prophecy of the gods."

The Book of Impossible Futures

Nezutsu approached.

The moment his hand touched the cover, everything stopped.

Then — the book opened itself.

It didn't show words.

It showed him.

Not the present him. Not the boy who couldn't use magic.

But a man made of white fire, crowned in ash, standing at the heart of the world, shouting a word that unmade everything.

Kaelith stepped back.

"What… is that?"

"The end," the Vault said.

"The prophecy says you will burn the sky, kill a god, and then vanish."

"Why?"

"Because you are not just the Echo. You are the Key. The last mistake of the gods."

A thunderclap split the vault.

Glass shattered.

A hole tore through the air, and three figures stepped through — cloaked in robes stitched from time threads.

"There he is," one whispered. "The boy who doesn't know his real name."

Kaelith drew her blade.

"Chrono-Wraiths. From the Obsidian Circle's Shadow Court."

Nezutsu's hand burned.

The feather — now fully black — split into wings on his back.

Not of magic.

But of something older.

"You will come with us," the wraith said, "or we'll rip the future out of your spine."

Nezutsu turned slowly, eyes glowing white.

"Try."

And the Vault burst into light and chaos.

[TO BE CONTINUED…]