A strange wind stirred the dust around the old shrine.
It wasn't the kind of wind that rustled leaves—there were no more trees here. It vibrated the stones, whistled through broken archways, and sent ripples across the ground like a living breath had sighed beneath the surface.
Aarav stood still, his eyes on a strange structure half-buried beneath a hill of collapsed stone and crystalline growths.
"This is… different," Solace whispered. "I am detecting inter-realm coordinates imprinted here. This was not crafted by Shatterfold natives."
The object looked like a door, or perhaps a gate—a circular mechanism embedded into the base of a carved stone wall. Spirals—endless, intertwining—were etched all over it, glowing faintly as if some part of it still lived.
Aarav approached cautiously, brushing off the dust. His fingers tingled as they hovered over the spirals. His Veins pulsed with heat.
"Feels… familiar somehow."
"Because this... is a Realm Connector."
The Spiral Door
Solace's voice shifted—calmer, slower—as if translating something sacred.
"It is a gateway node. A dimensional spiral crafted by the architects of the Veyruun Archaea. This structure was never meant for ordinary travel. It allowed transitions between strata realms, each one a sealed environment built to shape reality differently."
"Like a… ladder of worlds?" Aarav asked, tracing the center spiral.
"Yes. The higher the realm, the stronger the time-flow, density, and conscious evolution. This realm—Shatterfold—is the fractured remains of a lower stratum. An experiment gone wrong."
Aarav's heartbeat picked up.
"So if I… activated this…"
"In theory, you could descend into other remaining lower realms. Or, eventually, find a path upward. Toward Archaea itself. Toward… perhaps, a way home."
That last word hit him hard.
Home.
Aarav sat down quietly near the door, resting his arms on his knees. For the first time in cycles, he let himself think of Pune. The late-night chai his father made too strong. His mom yelling from the kitchen that he'd left socks everywhere. His younger sister pestering him during online games. The smell of rain in August.
He smiled softly, then blinked back the sting in his eyes.
"I miss them, Solace."
"I do not have data on emotional attachments… but I believe that is a valid response. You are far from your original plane."
"Will I ever see them again?" he asked.
"You survived the death of a realm, unlocked a forgotten AI, and learned to manipulate raw reality with a touch. I would estimate your odds… better than zero."
Aarav snorted. "Gee. Thanks for the hope."
"I am, by nature, pragmatic."
He looked at the Spiral Door again.
This was the first real clue. Not just to surviving, but to moving—to discovering more. Maybe even climbing to realms where Earth still echoed. Or where stronger relics and memories might exist.
He placed his palm on the central glyph. The runes under his skin flared.
Nothing happened.
"It's locked," Solace said after a pause. "You need a complete pattern. This spiral lacks three outer rings—each requiring an anchor glyph from separate source points. Likely scattered across Shatterfold's edges."
Aarav rose slowly. "So that's our next task?"
"Our only task… if you want to go home."
The gate hummed. Not open yet, but now aware of his presence.
And deep in the distance, something watched—from the crumbling veil near the shattered horizon, where even Solace's sensors couldn't reach.
Aarav stood tall, brushing off the dust.
He wasn't the same lost teenager who'd crashed into this world. He had allies now—well, one sarcastic AI. He had power. A goal.
And more importantly…
He had hope.