The path to the lion-shaped mountain was steeper than it appeared—riddled with gravitational distortions, broken stars hanging upside down, and shards of inverted constellations that pulsed with wrongness.
"Time is folding," Lysra said, scanning the warped terrain. "We're walking through memories—fractured ones."
Korr swiped at one of the floating star-shards, only for it to flicker into the face of a screaming woman. "This place is chewing on the past."
Erza remained silent.
He could feel the Gate tightening around him. The Leo Sigil on his chest burned colder now. Like something was watching it. Judging it. Trying to overwrite the very story of who he was.
They reached the mountain's base.
A staircase of molten gold rose before them—leading to a plateau carved with glyphs and burning runes. At the center: a circular platform made of obsidian and starbone.
"The Gateheart," Seris whispered.
But something was wrong.
It wasn't glowing. It wasn't pure. Instead, it bled a slow stream of flame-black ichor, dripping down into the hollow world below.
Erza stepped forward. The moment his foot touched the platform, the world froze.
Within the Memory Trial
He was alone.
The others had vanished.
Erza stood in a throne room—his throne room—from a life long gone. Pillars burned, stained-glass windows shattered, and corpses littered the floor like discarded prayers.
"Not again," he whispered.
At the far end of the chamber, a shadow stood over the corpse of his father—King Kaelion Black.
"Noctyros," Erza hissed.
But when the shadow turned… it had his face.
Or rather, a twisted version. Paler. Eyes like collapsed stars. The Leo sigil on its chest was inverted—black flame bleeding upward.
"You never saved them," the doppelgänger said. "You ran."
"I was a child," Erza growled.
"You were a prince," the shadow spat. "And you let your family burn. Do you think a lion who runs can claim the stars?"
Flames ignited around the illusion's fists—wrong-colored, coiling like smoke-dragons.
Erza stepped forward, fists tightening. "You're not real."
"No, Erza. I'm the part of you that never stopped screaming."
The Battle Within
The shadow charged first—its attacks faster, more brutal, driven by raw guilt and rage. Erza blocked with flaming arms, deflecting blow after blow, but each strike forced him back.
"You think your squad will follow you into death?" it hissed, slamming Erza through a column. "They follow your name. Not your soul."
Erza roared and countered, flames bursting from his back like wings.
"✴ Solar Fang: Crownbreaker!"
A spiral of searing flame ripped through the illusion's side—but it absorbed the fire, laughing.
"I am your fire now."
Erza staggered. His core flickered. Leo was fading.
Not because of injury.
Because of doubt.
He looked down at his hands—burning, trembling.
Meanwhile, Outside
The squad watched in horror as Erza stood paralyzed within the Gateheart's circle.
"His vitals are plummeting," Lysra said. "The Trial is attacking his soul."
Seris stepped forward. "We go in."
"You can't," Lysra said. "It's tailored to his myth."
"Then we wake him up the hard way," Korr said, stabbing one of the Gate glyphs with his dagger.
Lightning sparked—then something cracked.
The Gate reacted violently.
And a roar split the sky.
Within the Memory – Turning Point
Erza lay broken beneath the burning throne. The doppelgänger stalked toward him, the inverted sigil on its chest flaring.
"You are no prince. You're the orphan of a dead kingdom. A myth that failed to finish its story."
"No," Erza whispered, vision blurring.
Then—he heard it.
A voice.
Seris: "You idiot lion—get up."
Korr: "We're still here."
Lysra: "You carry the flame. You're not alone."
He looked up—and in the broken window above, he saw Leo.
Not inverted. Not fallen.
Watching.
Waiting.
A king of flame, not of fire.
Erza rose.
His aura flared gold and black—a dual resonance.
"I was a prince," he said. "Now I'm the flame that remembers."
He reached into his chest—gripped the flickering sigil—and roared.
"✴ Celestial Reign: Lionheart Rebirth!"
The entire memory-world exploded in light.
The shadow screamed as it burned—not from fire, but from truth. The truth of Erza's will.
Outside, Moments Later
The Gateheart pulsed gold.
Erza stood, breathing hard, flames swirling gently around his body.
The Gate was quiet now.
"I rewrote the Trial," he said.
Seris raised an eyebrow. "How?"
Erza looked to the burning sky, where Leo's constellation pulsed—clearer, steadier.
"I remembered who I am."