Chapter 58

The fire had long since died.

But no one moved.

Not even the wind.

Sena—if that *was* her—stood motionless at the edge of the camp. Her feet hovered just inches above the grass, untouched by dirt or dew.

Her braid swayed lightly behind her. Her dress fluttered without wind.

And her eyes…

Silver.

Not like metal.

Not like magic.

But like *nothing.* Empty, depthless, unnervingly calm.

She blinked once. Slowly.

Then spoke again.

"Who are you?"

Kye's heart sank into silence.

His lips parted, but no words came.

Veika stepped closer beside him, hand lightly touching the hilt of her weapon. Not to attack—but to prepare.

Renna's breath caught in her throat.

Even Kaelion, calm and calculating, stared with unease.

Because there was no trace of warmth in that voice.

No spark of the girl who had tethered Kye's heart just chapters ago.

No stubbornness. No laughter.

Just a question asked by someone who *should* know him.

But didn't.

---

Kye took one small step forward.

"I'm… I'm Kye."

He said it gently.

Like the name might break if he spoke it too loud.

Sena tilted her head again.

"Kye."

She repeated it like a foreign word she'd never heard before.

Then her eyes narrowed—not in anger. Not in fear.

But in confusion.

"I don't know you."

Kye's fingers tightened around the cracked seed still glowing in his palm.

"You knew me," he said softly. "You remembered me when the world didn't. You stood beside me in the Vault."

She blinked.

"I remember… light."

She looked down at herself.

"I remember… being pulled."

Her hands reached to her chest.

Something shimmered briefly where her heart would be. A faint outline, like a sigil lost between dimensions.

"But not you."

---

Kaelion stepped forward now, speaking in the low, careful tone of a scholar approaching an unstable spell.

"She was tethered through the Vault. When she sacrificed herself, she became a fragment. Her soul was wiped, her name erased."

Renna asked, "Then… how is she standing here?"

Veika glanced at Kye. "Because someone—or something—*refused* to let her go."

Kaelion nodded slowly. "And that something left a trail. That flare in the sky—it was a rift. A memory spike strong enough to challenge nullification."

Kye looked at Sena again.

"But what's left of her?"

Sena turned her gaze on him once more.

Her voice was softer now.

"Why do you look at me like that?"

Kye's voice cracked.

"Because I missed you."

A pause.

Then Sena floated a little closer.

Just enough for the space between them to hum with tension.

She lifted one hand.

Then, carefully… placed it on his chest.

Over the seed.

Her brow furrowed.

"This… feels familiar."

Her fingers glowed faintly.

The seed pulsed again.

"I was this," she whispered. "But I don't know how."

---

Suddenly, her body flickered.

A glitch.

For half a second, she vanished.

Then reappeared again, breathless.

Kye instinctively caught her as she staggered—but her body was weightless. Not light. *Weightless.*

He almost dropped her out of pure confusion.

Sena's eyes blinked rapidly.

"It's not stable," Kaelion said, stepping forward. "She's not *fully* back. This isn't resurrection. It's reconstruction."

Veika frowned. "Then how long do we have?"

"Until the memory tether fades. Or until her body collapses from lack of anchor."

Renna's eyes widened. "She *needs* something to hold her together."

Kaelion nodded.

Kye looked at the seed again.

Then at Sena.

He didn't ask the question aloud.

Because he already knew the answer.

---

That night, they built a small barrier of runes around the camp.

Kaelion's glyphs pulsed faintly, designed to buy time—hold Sena's unstable form from slipping away.

She sat by the fire, knees pulled to her chest, staring at the sky like it was a stranger too.

Kye watched her from a distance.

Not staring.

Just… *memorizing.*

She still moved like Sena. Still tilted her head at every odd sound. Still blinked twice when confused. But there were no stories in her. No sarcasm. No humming.

Just silence.

And fragments.

After a long while, she looked at him.

"What was I like?"

Kye blinked. "What?"

Sena's voice was soft. Hesitant. Childlike in a way that unsettled him.

"Everyone keeps staring. Everyone keeps calling me something I don't feel. I… want to know. What I was."

Kye sat beside her.

For a long moment, he didn't speak.

Then finally:

"You were brave," he said. "Not because you fought, but because you stood next to people who were afraid to feel."

Sena watched him.

"You were sarcastic. Too much sometimes. You rolled your eyes when I tried to be serious."

She blinked.

"You had a braid," he added with a sad smile. "Tighter than anyone else's. Like it held your whole personality in place."

Sena reached up to touch her braid.

Kye swallowed.

"You remembered me when I didn't remember myself. That's who you were."

Sena didn't reply.

Instead, she leaned her head softly against his shoulder.

It was cold.

Barely solid.

But real enough to break him.

---

Far away, in the deepest chamber of the **Chronarch Sanctum**, the Loom shuddered violently.

The thread it had extended toward Kye flared.

The Chronarch snapped her head toward the anomaly.

"She's choosing *him,*" she hissed.

The acolyte staggered back. "The protocol—"

"Is breaking," she finished.

Then turned toward the mirrored wall.

And inside it—

An image formed.

But not of Sena.

Not of Kye.

Of *another.*

A second girl.

Her eyes not silver.

But black.

With veins of fire beneath the skin.

The Chronarch's breath caught.

"No…"

The girl looked directly at the Chronarch.

Smiled.

Then whispered:

> "You pulled the wrong thread."

And the mirror *shattered.*