Ren woke to silence.
Not peaceful silence—this was the kind where your ears ring and your chest feels hollow, like the world forgot how to breathe around you.
He pushed himself up slowly, his palms scraping against cold stone. The air felt heavy, full of dust and faint moonlight drifting through broken cracks overhead.
He wasn't in the camp.
He wasn't in the valley.
He was… somewhere else.
Somewhere ancient.
Somewhere wrong.
Ren swallowed hard. "No… no, not again—"
His voice echoed through the chamber, bouncing off ruined pillars and empty halls. The place looked familiar in the unsettling way déjà vu felt—like a memory he wasn't supposed to have.
And then he realized:
This was the same ruined temple from his vision.
The one inside the seal.
Except this time, he wasn't dreaming.
He was physically here.
Ren staggered to his feet. "Ayaka? Hiro? Professor?"
Only silence answered.
His heartbeat thudded in his chest—just one, thankfully—but it felt unstable, like the second one was lurking just under the surface.
—You returned.
As you were always meant to.
Ren spun, eyes searching.
He didn't see anyone.
But the voice seeped through the cracked stone walls like water.
"I'm not here by choice," Ren snapped, hoping the fear didn't show in his voice.
—Choice is an illusion for vessels.
Ren clenched his fists. "I'm not a vessel."
—Then why did the guardian bring you home?
Ren froze. "The guardian?"
—It opened the path. And you followed.
Ren's chest tightened. The last thing he remembered was Yurei reaching toward him, Ayaka holding onto him, and then the seal erupting with light inside his head.
"Where exactly am I?" he whispered.
—A place between worlds.
A memory made physical.
Ren ran a hand through his hair, frustration mixing with fear. "Great. That explains nothing."
—Walk.
You will understand.
"I'm not walking anywhere until you—"
But his feet moved on their own.
Ren cursed under his breath. "You're kidding me."
He tried to resist, but the pull was soft—gentle even—like invisible hands guiding him forward without force.
He hated that softness more than violence.
As he walked deeper into the temple, faint symbols along the walls began to glow—spirals, crescents, glyphs he didn't recognize but that tugged at something inside his chest.
The seal pulsed with recognition.
Ren reached a broken archway and stopped.
Beyond it lay a courtyard bathed in pale blue light. Cracked stone tiles formed a circle around a shattered pedestal. A massive tree grew through the center—dead, leafless, its bark charred black.
But moonlight poured over it anyway, as if the tree had once been alive.
Ren whispered, "What is this place…?"
The answer came from behind him.
"It's where you first awakened."
Ren spun so fast he nearly tripped.
Yurei stood at the temple entrance, her silver robes drifting behind her. Her eyes glowed softly, but she looked… fragile. Exhausted. Like she'd been searching for him for hours.
Which, Ren realized, she probably had.
He took two steps back. "Stay away."
Yurei paused.
Her shoulders lowered—not in defeat, but in sadness.
"I'm not here to hurt you," she said quietly.
Ren shook his head. "You always say that, but you keep pushing your way into my head."
"I only come when the seal calls me," she whispered. "And lately, it calls far too loudly."
Ren's pulse spiked. "I didn't call you."
"Not you," Yurei said.
"Him. The fragment inside you."
Ren swallowed. "Well, I'm not him."
Yurei looked down, her fingers curling around the fabric of her sleeve. "I know. But it's hard to separate the two. I see both when I look at you."
Ren didn't respond.
He wasn't sure what to say.
Yurei stepped forward, slow and careful. "Do you know why this place exists?"
"I said don't come closer."
She stopped again, obeying—but her eyes softened.
"This temple was where the original bearer of the Ninth Seal took his oath," she said. "Where he bound himself to the god."
Ren paled. "Why would anyone do that willingly?"
Yurei flinched. "Because he believed he could control the god. Shape its power. Protect those he loved."
Ren stared at her. "Did he succeed?"
The silence told him the answer.
"No," Yurei whispered. "He didn't."
Ren swallowed hard.
"So this temple is… what? His memory?"
"Partly." Yurei looked around, her expression lost in nostalgia. "When the god shattered, every seal carried a piece of its past. This place only appears when the Ninth Seal is close to merging with a new vessel."
Ren stiffened. "So I'm here because I'm close to losing myself?"
Yurei hesitated, then nodded once.
He laughed—weak, humorless. "Perfect. That's just perfect."
Yurei stepped closer again, slower this time. "Ren… listen to me. You are still you. I can feel it. The seal isn't fully merged yet."
Ren looked away. "Ayaka keeps saying that too."
Yurei's expression changed at the mention of Ayaka—hurt, jealousy, fear. A tight knot of all three.
"She anchors you," Yurei said quietly.
"Yes."
"She keeps you from me."
Ren's chest tightened. "…yes."
Yurei lowered her gaze, voice barely above a whisper. "Then she must care for you deeply."
Ren didn't trust his voice, so he didn't answer.
Yurei looked back at him, her eyes full of something he couldn't read. "But anchors can fray, Ren. They can snap under weight. And once they do… you'll fall into memories that aren't yours."
Ren exhaled. "I don't want to hurt her. Or Hiro. Or myself."
"Then don't fight alone."
Yurei stepped one last time, stopping just a few feet away.
"Let me help you."
Ren took a step back, shaking his head. "Every time you 'help,' the seal gets stronger."
"That's because you keep rejecting what you are," she whispered. "If you accepted even part of it, you'd become stable. You wouldn't be tearing yourself apart."
Ren clenched his jaw. "I don't want to be that person."
Yurei's eyes glistened. "You say that, but your soul remembers him. Even if your mind doesn't."
She reached out—not touching him, just reaching.
"Let me show you."
Ren stumbled back, panic rising. "NO!"
The seal throbbed violently.
The tree in the courtyard cracked, sending splinters of dead wood across the ground.
The temple walls trembled.
Yurei's eyes widened. "Ren—your heartbeat—!"
Ren dropped to one knee, clutching his chest. "Something's wrong—The seal—It's—"
He couldn't breathe.
Not because of Yurei.
Not because of fear.
Because something else awakened inside the temple's shadows.
A whisper rolled across the ruined floor:
—You are not alone in this place.
Yurei's face drained of color.
"That voice… no…"
Ren forced himself to stand. "What's happening—?"
Another figure stepped out of the darkness.
Not a guardian.
Not Kuro-Obake.
Something older.
Something wearing the Ninth Seal's true shape.
Ren's second heartbeat surged so violently he thought his ribs might crack.
Yurei stepped in front of him—genuinely afraid. "Ren, do not look at it—!"
Ren did.
And saw himself.
Not exactly him, but an echo—an older, darker version with nine burning sigils carved across his chest.
The first Sealbearer.
The one who failed.
Ren's breath caught. "You're…"
The echo smiled sadly.
—I am what you were.
And what you may become.
Yurei's voice trembled. "Ren, don't listen—!"
Ren whispered, "What… what do you want from me?"
—Nothing.
You already know the ending.
The echo raised a hand.
Ren felt his identity slip.
Just a little.
Just enough to terrify him.
The echo whispered:
—Let me show you how you died.
The world cracked open—
And Ren screamed as memories that weren't his flooded into him.