Kai's name on the reflective wall kept fading.
KAI RHEN became KAI— then KA— then a single trembling K like the corridor was chewing him into nothing.
Kai's breath broke apart. "Lina—" he choked, eyes wide with real terror. "If it finishes—"
"I know," Lina whispered, and her bones burned like they were being branded from the inside.
The offered mask hovered inches from her hands.
LINA VERIS glowed on porcelain like a verdict.
The voice behind it softened, almost patient.
"Put it on," it murmured. "And I stop the erasure."
Seren's eyes shone with panic-light. "Lina, if you wear it—"
"I won't be me," Lina finished, voice shaking.
Reyon's laugh came out strangled. "Okay, quick poll: can we all agree that the cursed face-plate is a bad deal?"
The Veilbound didn't move.
They didn't need to.
The room moved for them.
The corridor hummed louder, as if chanting.
Kai's name blurred further.
The last K began to melt.
Lina's flame surged instinctively—gold, trembling, edged with black.
Kai flinched. "Don't—your flame is a beacon in here—"
Lina swallowed hard.
Touch anchored reality.
But the wrong touch at the wrong moment could lock fate.
Her heart hammered against the bone-tether like it wanted to claw out.
"Kai," Lina whispered, stepping forward anyway.
Kai's eyes snapped to her, fierce. "Lina—stay back."
She didn't.
Not because she wasn't afraid.
Because she was.
Because fear didn't get to decide her choices anymore.
The mask drifted to her face like it could already taste her skin.
Lina lifted her palm—not to take it.
To stop it.
Gold flame flared between her hand and the porcelain.
The mask hissed as if burned.
The voice behind it sharpened. "You can't refuse the script."
"Watch me," Lina whispered.
Then she did what the Mask Room didn't expect.
She spoke a rule.
Not to the Veilbound.
Not to the voice.
To Kai.
"Say my name," Lina said softly.
Kai froze.
"What—"
"Say it," she demanded, voice cracking. "Stay real. Anchor me back."
Kai's blurred half flickered violently, chains tightening as if the room hated the intimacy of truth.
But Kai's gaze locked onto Lina like a vow.
"Lina Veris," he rasped.
The moment his voice hit her name—real and raw—the bone-tether in Lina's ribs surged like a heartbeat.
And the erasing wall hesitated.
The last K stopped melting.
Seren gasped. "It slowed."
Reyon's eyes widened. "Okay, okay—name-based CPR. Noted."
Lina took a shaking breath.
Now her turn.
She stepped close enough that Kai's chains rattled with her presence. She didn't kiss him. Didn't press her forehead to his. Didn't give the room a romantic trigger it could weaponize.
She did the safer thing.
She grabbed his hand.
Palm to palm.
A grounding touch.
An anchor.
The corridor screamed.
Runes lit beneath their feet like a trap snapping shut.
Kai hissed in pain—his chains pulled tighter—but his fingers curled around hers instantly, gripping like he'd rather break than let go.
Lina's flame flared bright gold, flooding her bones.
"Stay with me," she whispered, voice shaking. "Say your name."
Kai swallowed hard. "Kai Rhen."
The corridor shuddered again.
Lina closed her eyes.
And spoke the most dangerous thing she could say in this place—because it wasn't a bargain, it was a claim.
"Kai Rhen," Lina whispered back.
Her flame rose along their clasped hands like molten silk.
Not outward.
Inward.
Into her bones.
Into the tether already fused beneath her ribs.
Seren's eyes widened with horror. "Lina—don't—your memory—"
"I know," Lina breathed.
Then she pushed the flame deeper anyway—like carving letters into herself.
The bone-tether blazed.
Lina screamed as heat lanced through her skeleton, not burning flesh, but writing into structure.
Writing into permanence.
Reyon swore, voice cracking. "SHE'S—SHE'S DOING IT AGAIN—SHE'S TURNING HERSELF INTO A RUNIC TABLET—"
Lina's vision went white.
For one terrifying second, a memory tried to slip away—Mira's laugh, warm and bright—
and it fell through her fingers like sand.
Lina gasped, fighting panic.
But she didn't stop.
Because Kai's name mattered more than her comfort right now.
Gold flame surged.
The corridor's erasing wall flickered—
and KAI RHEN flared back into existence, carved brighter than before, as if Lina's bones had stamped the letters into reality.
Kai's breath hitched. His eyes widened—half normal, half blurred—shocked and alive.
"Lina…" he whispered, voice breaking. "You—"
The voice behind the mask snapped, furious.
"No."
The Veilbound moved for the first time—hands lifting in perfect unison.
The offered mask lunged toward Lina's face like a hungry mouth.
Reyon threw himself forward, arms wide, as if he could block a supernatural object with pure audacity.
"NOPE. NO FACE-HUGGERS TODAY—!"
The mask slammed into Reyon's illusion shield—
and for a second it held.
Long enough for Seren to grab Lina's shoulder and hiss, "Name Test! Now!"
Lina's breath shook.
She stared at the mask and forced her voice steady.
"Say my name," Lina commanded. "Stay real."
Silence.
The mask trembled.
It could not answer.
Because it wasn't real.
Lina's flame surged, bright and furious.
"Then you don't get to wear me," she whispered.
She slammed her palm into the reflective floor.
Gold flame erupted—not as an attack, but as a command to the tether.
The bone-tether yanked like a rope snapping taut.
Kai's chains shuddered, then cracked.
His Shadowsteel flared—gold-thread darkness slicing through the last binding like a blade forged from survival.
Kai stumbled into Lina—catching himself on her shoulders, forehead almost touching hers—
and Lina jerked back instinctively, remembering the rule.
Touch anchors.
Kisses lock.
Foreheads are… dangerous.
But his breath was warm against her cheek, and for a heartbeat the world felt painfully human.
Kai's voice shook. "You shouldn't have come."
Lina's laugh came out broken. "I know."
Reyon yelled, "ROMANCE LATER—MASK ROOM NOW—!"
Seren's Echo Chains snapped outward—sound made solid—wrapping around Lina, Kai, and Reyon like a harness.
"Move!" Seren cried.
They ran.
The corridor warped, trying to rewrite their steps, but Lina's bones burned with a single fixed point:
Kai's name.
Kai's grip.
Kai's presence.
The Mirror Door appeared ahead—cracked open like a wound.
They slammed through it—
And the world flipped back.
Stone. Dust. Breath. Gravity.
They crashed onto the floor of the forbidden wing corridor outside the Mirror Library.
For a moment, none of them moved.
Then Reyon rolled onto his back, wheezing. "I hate mirrors. I hate masks. I hate prophecy. I hate—"
Seren choked out a laugh that sounded like a sob.
Kai sat up slowly, pressing a shaking hand to his chest, eyes still faintly gold.
Then he looked at Lina.
Real Lina.
And Lina looked back.
Her ribs burned. Her mind felt… thinner.
But Kai was here.
Alive.
Lina whispered, "Say my name."
Kai didn't even hesitate.
"Lina Veris."
Her breath steadied.
"Stay real," she whispered.
Kai's eyes softened with something terrifyingly tender.
"I'm trying," he murmured.
A slow clap echoed down the corridor.
Cold. Polished. Official.
A council attendant stood at the far end, expression unreadable, holding a sealed envelope.
"As touching as this is," the attendant said smoothly, "you are all late."
Reyon stared. "Late for WHAT?"
The attendant lifted the envelope.
"A mandatory Council-hosted gala," they said. "Founders' Masquerade. Tonight."
Seren went pale. "Masquerade?"
Kai's jaw tightened. Lina's flame flickered uneasily.
The attendant smiled.
"Masks are required," they added.
Lina's blood went ice cold.
Then, somewhere deeper in the forbidden wing, stone scraped against stone.
A door that wasn't a door began to open.
A wall of runes—ancient and grave-like—lit up with a sickly pulse.
Seren's breath caught. "No…"
Carved letters began to appear on the runic wall—slow, deliberate—like fate writing with a knife.
A name.
One name.
New.
Fresh.
As if it had just been sentenced.
Lina stepped closer, heart pounding, and read it aloud in a whisper:
MIRA SUN.
Seren made a small, broken sound.
Reyon stopped breathing.
Kai's hand tightened around Lina's.
And the runes beneath the name glowed brighter, forming one chilling line:
7 DAYS.
To be Continued© Kishtika., 2025
All rights reserved.