The Astral Prism pulsed in Aris's hands, its facets humming with untamed potential. Eira stepped forward, tracing a spiral of lunar mana in the air. "We must enter its mind," she whispered, "the Dreamscape that guards the core." As her glyphs glowed, the chamber dissolved into drifting starlight and distant echoes.
One by one, the Neon Umbra crossed the threshold. The floor vanished beneath them; instead, they walked on ribbons of aurora that stretched between floating memories. Above, a moon of fractured glass hovered, reflecting fears they had never voiced. Nyx's anima-deck projected a shimmer of code under her fingertips, trying in vain to map this realm's shifting logic.
Aris felt it first: a phantom whisper, laced with hope and regret. He followed it to a crater of opal dreams where a younger version of himself knelt beside his fallen mentor. The image flickered angrily when he reached out. "This is your doubt," Mara said from behind him, her voice firm. Her blade glowed, carving channels of certitude through the wavering illusion.
Further on, Rho and Kael pressed back a tide of specters—corporate titans in gleaming armor who offered them wealth, safety, even oblivion, in exchange for the Prism. Each promise twisted the dreamscape's colors into sickly greens and blacks. Together, the two guardians formed a wall of light and grit, repelling every compromise.
Nyx's voice crackled: "The Prism's core is close. I can anchor us if we synchronize our minds—share a single thought." The team linked hands: Eira's mana, Nyx's code, Rho's resolve, Kael's strength, Mara's loyalty, and Aris's purpose coalesced. A pulse of pure prismatic white carved a path toward the glass moon.
At its center lay a chamber of silken shadows, where the Prism's heart—an angelic lattice of memory—waited. Here, doubts rose like tidal waves: Aris saw the Spire's collapse, Eira watched her wards shatter, Nyx lost her data in a vortex of static. But each teammate whispered a counterwave: faith, unity, courage.
With a final surge, Aris pressed the Prism's base to the heart-lattice. Light bloomed, unraveling the Dreamscape. They tumbled back into the lower sanctum as the astral veil fell away. Around them, the newly reforged sigils glowed steady and strong. The path upward now lay open—and having conquered their inner phantoms, the Neon Umbra were ready for whatever lay beyond.