The light in the chamber pulsed like a heartbeat.
Kaien shielded his eyes, the shard now floating above the pedestal. It spun slowly, releasing threads of light—thin, silken strands that curved through the air like whispers frozen in motion.
Mirra stepped back, visibly tense. Gorran placed himself between them and the door, weapon in hand, watching for signs of breach.
Kaien didn't see them.
All his attention was locked onto the voice that now echoed from every corner of the chamber:
"Is it… time?"
It wasn't just a sound.
It was a feeling—warm, familiar, ancient. The voice rippled through his spine like a melody half-remembered, like a lullaby from a dream he'd never had but always carried.
"Who are you?" Kaien whispered.
The shard flared, and the room shifted.
Kaien found himself standing not in the chamber—but in a vast, endless field of starlight.
Above him, the sky was black, but not empty. Stars moved in reversed arcs, and golden rings spun slowly across the heavens. Each ring was carved with symbols that defied understanding—letters that shimmered and rearranged themselves into meaning as he looked.
He wasn't alone.
Before him stood a man, robed in flowing silver fabric threaded with strands of time itself. Five rings orbited him—slowly, gracefully—like planets loyal to a hidden sun. His eyes were soft but endless, like he had watched every sunrise and still found it beautiful.
Kaien knew him.
Not from pictures. Not from lessons.
From the pulse in his bones. From the echo in the shard. From the way the world seemed to slow, then breathe again.
"Elion."
The man smiled, a flicker of sadness in his expression.
"You're younger than I thought."
Kaien stumbled forward. "This… isn't real. You're dead."
"Correct," Elion said softly, his voice a harmony of voices. "I am no longer alive in any linear sense. But I left fragments—seeds—behind. Pieces of who I was, embedded in time's folds."
He gestured to their surroundings. "This is a seed. A memory… and more. My last anchor in the outer Spiral."
Kaien stared at him. "Why me?"
Elion tilted his head. "You were born outside of Expansion. That makes you rare. But more than that… you listened. When time called, you listened. Others heard it and ran. You walked toward it."
Kaien wanted to ask so many things. About Biggenator. About Lyra. About why the world was broken. But the words tangled in his throat.
Instead, he whispered, "Are you here to save us?"
Elion's eyes dimmed.
"I can't save you. Not anymore."
A wave of silence rolled across the starlight field.
Elion looked up, watching the rings shift in the sky.
"I lost," he said. "Biggenator didn't just destroy me. He expanded beyond the laws that governed resistance. He doesn't rule the Spiral… he is the Spiral now. His mind is baked into its structure. His will is law."
Kaien's fists clenched.
"Then what's the point of any of this? Why leave seeds if you knew you'd lose?"
Elion's expression sharpened.
"Because time is not a straight road.And because hope… doesn't end when we do."
He stepped closer.
"I didn't leave seeds to resurrect. I left them to ignite. To find those who could see the cracks in the Spiral and remember that time was once a dance—not a prison."
Kaien's chest tightened. The weight of everything pressed in.
"So what happens now?"
Elion raised his hand, and a golden flame appeared—small, flickering.
"This is the Memory Seed—a core spark of what I was. It holds knowledge, patterns, echoes of the past. But it is unstable, and not meant to live alone."
He placed the flame into Kaien's chest.
The moment it touched, Kaien gasped.
A storm of images roared through him:
Lyra standing alone against a Spiral Choir, screaming Elion's name as her blade fractured time.
The Clockroot Tree bleeding golden sap over the ruins of a shattered world.
Gorran, younger, dragging Elion's wounded body through collapsing timelines.
Biggenator—once a man, now an infinite idea—consuming a star and whispering, "More."
Kaien dropped to his knees, gasping, the weight of history burning through his veins.
Elion knelt beside him.
"This is your burden now. You are the carrier of my last spark.You will find the others.Or you will fall.Either way… your choices will ripple."
The stars dimmed.
The rings above slowed.
And Elion—just a fragment, just a ghost—smiled one last time.
"Thank you for listening, Kaien."
The world unraveled into golden dust.
Kaien collapsed on the floor of the chamber, coughing, trembling. Mirra and Gorran were by his side immediately.
"You saw him," Gorran said, voice low.
Kaien nodded.
"Part of him. Just… a piece. But it was him."
Mirra looked at the shard. It was no longer glowing. Instead, it had fused to the pedestal—marking the chamber as used.
"We need to move," she said. "You're lit up like a beacon. If you activated the Seed, they'll come faster now."
Kaien stood slowly, his limbs shaky, but his eyes clearer than ever.
"There are ten of them," he said. "Ten sparks. I need to find them."
Gorran raised a brow. "And then what? Bring Elion back?"
Kaien shook his head.
"No. That's not what he wanted."
He looked at the fading light on the pedestal.
"He wanted someone to remember. To fight not with fear… but with meaning."
Alarms echoed across the Subvoid.
Mirra swore under her breath. "They've breached the outer ward. Spiral Choir, maybe worse."
Kaien's hand hovered over the hilt of a weapon he didn't yet know how to use. His fingers glowed faint gold, the Memory Seed now part of his blood.
He didn't feel afraid.
Not anymore.
As the chamber doors opened and the resistance rushed into formation, Kaien stepped forward, his voice firm.
"Where's the next Seed?"
Mirra blinked, impressed.
"West of the Echo Trench. Buried in a dying moment. We'll need a Path-Seer to reach it."
"Then we go," Kaien said.
He looked back one last time at the clock, its hands now still again.
A single line of writing glowed on its face:
Anchor Initiated. Timeline Unstable. Potential Rising.