Hina was quiet after the Watcher fell.
Not awed. Not afraid.
Just… haunted.
They'd freed something. Again. But this time, she watched it happen like a person watching their own hands write a word they didn't mean.
She didn't speak for over an hour.
Veyrun noticed.
"You're not processing the rewrite."
She shook her head. "It's not that."
He tilted his gaze — always calculating, but never cruel.
"Then what is it?"
"I didn't want to do it this time."
That made him pause.
"You didn't want to free N'tael?"
"I didn't want to touch him. I didn't want to feel what he felt when he remembered."
She clenched her jaw. Sat on a broken slab. Hugged her knees.
"He screamed on the inside. I felt it. Not his voice — his loss."
Veyrun said nothing.
Just looked at her like a script he couldn't run.
"You're not used to regret," she said.
"No," he replied. "I'm used to utility."
That was the first time she saw it.
Not power.
Not prophecy.
But disconnect.
Veyrun wasn't heartless. He was simply so far gone from human rhythm, he didn't know when someone was breaking.
Hina turned to him, searching his eyes.
"What would you do if I wanted to stop?"
"Stop what?"
"The Codex. The rewrites. The rebellion."
He stared at her for a long time.
"I wouldn't stop you."
"But you'd keep going."
"Yes."
"Even if it made us enemies."
"We wouldn't be enemies."
He tilted his head.
"We'd just be memories that disagreed."
She looked away.
Her hand moved subconsciously toward the Codex. She didn't want to — but her nerves were trained now. The Codex didn't just respond to thoughts. It anticipated discomfort. Like a mirror always listening.
"You're evolving," Veyrun said.
"What?"
"You're starting to filter the book instead of channel it. That means you're becoming autonomous."
"So I'm becoming you?"
He blinked. The air stilled.
"No," he said softly.
"You're becoming what I failed to be."
Then came the wind.
Sharp. Not real. Scripted.
Veyrun stood in an instant. So did Hina.
The Codex flipped once.
A glyph hovered off the page, floating like heat: a mirror-like circle with a spiral carved into its surface.
"The system's sending someone new," he said.
"Is it another Agent?"
"No."
He turned toward the horizon.
"It's a… reflection."
They walked.
The ground changed as they neared the site — no longer dirt or broken glyphstone, but glass tiles… each one etched with partial names.
Hina bent down to one.
"These are… old contestants."
"Ones who burned before their names were finished."
"What kind of field is this?"
"A graveyard made of almosts."
He pointed forward.
In the center of the mirrored field stood a lone figure.
Not armored. Not monstrous.
Just… calm.
A boy. Barely older than Hina. Red hair. Red coat. And no book.
He had no aura. No glyph loops.
But the Codex screamed.
"Name?" Veyrun asked.
The boy didn't smile.
"I have none. They called me Mirror."
"But I call myself Reza."
Hina's gut twisted.
The name sounded familiar — but distant. Like something she dreamed before the Codex came into her life.
Reza took a step forward.
"You think you're converting us," he said.
"You're not."
"Then what are we doing?" Hina asked.
"You're fracturing the collective memory chain."
He walked toward her slowly.
"When you rewrote Nox… I woke up."
"Another defect?"
"No."
"I'm the result of one."
Veyrun didn't move. But his arms lowered slightly.
Subtle cue.
Danger.
"Reza's spellbook isn't active," he said.
"Because it only functions when another book is lost."
Hina frowned. "A scavenger?"
"No," Reza said.
His eyes gleamed now — bright, cold red.
"I'm a reverse imprint. A ghost book."
He opened his coat.
And there, carved into his chest, was a spellbook.
Not carried.
Grown.
"I was born the moment Kivar was sealed," Reza said.
"Built to inherit what he forgot."
"Why are you here?" Veyrun asked.
"To return your kindness."
He smiled — too gently.
"I'm going to rewrite you."
Veyrun didn't move.
"You can't."
"Not directly."
Reza stepped closer.
"But Hina's tethered to you."
"And you're not sealed yet."
He reached out a hand.
"Let me in, and I'll show you what the Codex won't."
Hina's hand twitched.
The Codex flipped — involuntarily.
A new glyph pulsed.
One she hadn't seen.
"Spell Four?" she whispered.
Veyrun growled — for the first time. A low, ancient sound.
"Don't read it."
"Why?"
"Because it's not ours."
Reza's smile widened.
"That's right."
"The Codex doesn't just receive your spells."
"It stores every failed one."
"Even the corrupted ones."
Suddenly — the glyph on the page began to burn.
Red. Glitching. Hissing.
Veyrun stepped forward, fast.
His arm out — blocking Hina.
"Spell Four has been infected," he said.
"Reza's not a Momodo."
"Then what is he?"
"A memory that learned to defend itself."
Reza raised his palm. A sigil appeared — not cast, but exposed.
It matched the glyph in the Codex.
"I didn't come to fight you," he said.
"I came to ask you to stop."
"Because if you reach Spell Five…"
His voice trembled.
"You'll remember who you used to be."
Silence.
Then: the Codex closed on its own.
The glyph vanished.
The spell was not cast.
But the damage…
Was already starting.
Veyrun stared at Reza.
And for the first time, he looked unsure.
"You weren't supposed to know that name," he said.
Reza nodded.
"Neither were you."
— Should I make the battlegrounds first or make a story mode? Roblox - VIKofSyren