Chapter 93 - Echo Traces

Date: April X787

Location: Vault Inner Layer — Mirror Corridor, Magnolia Underground

Teresa moved with her sword low, angled almost like a walking stick rather than a weapon. The figure had vanished without a sound. No spell residue, no trace. Only the lingering hum of the mirrored chamber behind her, and it wasn't fading.

The vault wasn't fighting her. It was watching.

Every movement she made, every flicker of Yoki Mana inside her, the walls seemed to record it. Not as reflections of light, but as subtle echoes. Glyphs lining the curved corridor ahead pulsed, almost as if matching her breathing.

This place, she realized, didn't just measure what she intended to do.

It wanted to understand who she was.

The corridor tightened slightly, guiding her deeper. The walls weren't covered in language; instead, they held etched patterns that felt more like muscle memory than words. Tracks of movement. Shadows of people who had come before her — their attempts, their stumbles, their hesitations.

And now, her steps joined them.

She straightened her back, her grip firming on the blade.

This wasn't a ruin.

It was alive and aware of her presence.

Location: Fairy Tail Guildhall — Briefing Alcove

Romeo sat hunched over the large map Warren had spread out on the table. A mess of red lines and shifting points glowed softly.

"Are there more tunnels now?" Romeo asked, frowning.

"No," Warren said, tapping the projection crystal. "Same tunnels. But the flow inside them is changing. Like... they're reacting to someone moving through them."

Romeo squinted. "Reacting to Teresa?"

Warren gave a tight nod. "Exactly. Since she went below, the leyline threads have started re-aligning. The ruins aren't staying passive anymore. They're adjusting."

Romeo leaned back, wide-eyed. "She's changing the ruins?"

"Or they're changing to her," Warren replied. "Either way, they know she's there."

Macao leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Then we don't interfere. We step in now, we risk setting off the whole place."

Romeo's voice dropped. "So... she's alone down there?"

Macao's eyes softened, but only for a second. "If anyone can face it alone... It's her."

Location: Vault Corridor — Descending Curve

Teresa slowed her steps as the floor sloped downward again. Ahead, a chamber came into view, marked with tall vertical sigils. The markings pulsed in a pattern that almost sounded like breathing.

She paused at the threshold.

Inside stood six ghost-like figures, faint and translucent. Each looked like her, but they were wrong in small ways.

One held its sword at the wrong angle.

Another stood with the wrong posture.

A third stepped too soon, off-balance.

She understood at once.

They were not threats.

They were copies. Failed attempts at imitating her presence and technique.

They weren't attacking. They were warnings.

This vault wasn't built to keep something hidden away.

It was built to reflect intruders — to show them their unworthiness, and return it to them.

Location: Lamia Scale — Northern Post

Lyon leaned over a flickering mana imprint, eyes tense. Jura stood nearby, arms folded, gaze distant.

"She's gone even deeper than we predicted," Jura said softly. "The ruins are... unfolding."

Lyon scowled. "Like a labyrinth?"

"No," Jura said, shaking his head. "More like a stage. And she's the only performer."

Lyon set the imprint down. "You think it's alive?"

Jura's eyes narrowed. "I think someone long ago designed it to watch us. To judge us. Not on strength alone — but on what we believe."

Lyon looked uneasy. "And if she reaches the end?"

Jura didn't answer.

Location: Vault — Sanctum of Reflection

The final chamber opened with no warning at all.

Teresa stepped inside cautiously. The walls shifted around her, not blinking or flashing, but sliding, as if focusing a giant lens.

At the center stood a pedestal. Empty. No relic. No weapon. Just a spiral-shaped glyph, softly glowing.

Her Yoki Mana stirred at her spine, coiling. Not in defense.

In readiness.

She stepped forward.

When her foot touched the glyph ring, the entire chamber seemed to inhale. A single flash of light — and then the pedestal shattered.

From it rose not a weapon, not a beam, but a voice.

A whisper.

No clear language. No source.

Her voice, repeated back.

"You live without vengeance."

"You fight without faith."

"You protect without love."

"And still, you stand."

She didn't flinch.

Behind her, the echoes of herself reappeared. All six. But now they have moved.

Each stepped forward with slightly altered motions — faster strikes, deeper stances, sharper breath.

Each one is closer to her.

Each one is learning.

The vault wasn't just imitating her anymore.

It was evolving. Testing how to surpass her.