Kallen's breath hitched, then grew erratic. Shallow, quick gasps tore from her lungs as panic clawed at her chest.
Her vision blurred.
The man before her was more than just a memory. More than a mistake. He was her past, made flesh again.
She clutched at her chest, the pressure mounting, like something invisible pressing hard against her ribs. In her mind, she repeated the mantra: Stay calm. Stay calm. Breathe. But the more she reminded herself, the worse it got. The fear didn't retreat—it grew louder, more suffocating.
Otto stepped forward, cautious.
She immediately took a step back.
Another step. Then another.
The sand shifted beneath her boots—then gave way. Her heel slipped. She lost balance and fell onto the sand with a soft thud.
Dust clouded her peripheral vision, but all she saw was him—standing tall, looming over her. The same golden hair, the same gentle eyes that once swore protection but brought only ruin.
He extended a hand toward her.
Without thinking, she slapped it away.
The sound echoed, sharp against the hush of the ocean breeze.
She didn't even understand why she'd done it. Instinct? Pain? Fear?
Otto didn't flinch. He didn't even seem surprised. Instead, he slowly knelt in front of her, his green eyes meeting hers.
There was no anger in his expression. Only something more devastating—regret.
"By the look in your eyes... do you resent me?" he asked softly.
The weight of the question hit her chest like a hammer. Her lips parted—but he interrupted himself with a quiet sigh.
"No... Forgive me. That was a foolish question."
He smiled faintly—melancholy flickering in his features. His hand twitched, as if he meant to reach for her cheek. But halfway there, he let it fall, abandoning the thought entirely.
She watched him. Her breath slowed, but her heart thundered.
She hated this. Hated him. Hated the nightmares he caused, the ache he left in the hollow of her soul, the way he once looked at her like she was all that mattered—only to prove how little she did when it counted.
Grinding her teeth, Kallen pushed herself up from the ground. Otto followed, standing as she did—his taller frame casting a subtle shadow over her.
She refused to look at him. Her gaze dropped to the sand at her feet. If she looked up, she might remember too much.
The words swelled in her throat. A scream. A curse. Anything. She opened her mouth, prepared to let it all out—when something whispered in her ear.
"Why do you hesitate? Go on—scream. Let it all out. Hate him."
The voice was unmistakable. It was her own.
No... not hers.
Kallen turned slowly.
Standing just a few steps behind her, half-shrouded in haze, was a younger version of herself. Pale. Silent. Faceless.
The child tilted her head. When she spoke again, her voice reverberated like a wind echoing through a hollow canyon—haunting, yet familiar.
"You always hold back. Even now? Why?"
Kallen took a step back, her eyes wide. Her throat tightened.
The figure didn't move.
But her presence seeped into the air like a toxin. Not just a memory... but the nightmare itself, taking form again.
"Why don't you fall into despair?"
The voices echoed, countless and overlapping—each one hers. Younger, older, broken, bitter. Their chorus was suffocating, crawling under her skin like phantom fingers.
"Let the anger out. You became like this because of him."
Kallen stumbled back, heart racing, thoughts disjointed. She was trying to breathe, to anchor herself in reality. She'd forgotten Otto stood behind her.
Her back collided with his chest.
She froze.
The warmth she remembered the softness of his eyes was gone. She turned her head slowly, dread building in her throat.
Otto's gaze was not cruel, but empty. No kindness. No warmth. Only silence... and control.
"You're not Kallen."
His voice was cold, hollow.
Before she could step away, his hand clamped tightly around her wrist.
"Ah—let go," she gasped, pain blooming in her arm. She struggled, but her strength felt like a whisper in a hurricane.
"You're not angry?" her younger self asked from somewhere behind, her voice low—accusing. "Why aren't you angry?"
"I said let go!" Kallen shouted, pulling at Otto's hand, but he didn't budge. His grip tightened further, forcing her to her knees.
"You should be furious!" another version of her screamed. "You should hate him!"
More voices emerged from the mist—shades of herself at every age, every stage of hurt. They circled her like vultures.
Then the world twisted.
Inazuma vanished.
Darkness seeped into the edges of her vision, consuming light, distorting space. The earth warped, forming a nightmare.
Otto dragged her across the shifting landscape, his face no longer fully visible blurred by haze and hatred. He stopped at the edge of a cliff, gripping her chin to force her gaze forward.
"Look, Kallen."
And she did.
She saw fire devour cities. Fields strewn with bodies. Monitors displaying gruesome experiments—human lives turned into numbers. Faces twisted in agony. Children crying. Eyes, hundreds of them, all blaming her.
"All of this," Otto said, "was for you."
His voice fractured at the end half anger, half devotion, all wrong.
Kallen turned her face away, trembling. "No... stop... I don't want to see this."
But invisible hands forced her eyes open.
"You will see it," he said. "You have to understand."
Tears poured down her cheeks.
"Why?" she whispered, voice shaking. "What did I do wrong?"
"Why?" her younger self said beside her again—no longer a child, but a shadow wearing her skin.
"Because you're Kallen."
And with that, the nightmare shattered like glass.
The world fell away.
And so did she.
Down.
Down.
Into endless black.
She was sinking slowly, helplessly like a stone through water. Her limbs drifted lifeless. The light above her shrank until it was no more than a pinprick.
I never asked for this.
I never wanted to be loved.
I never wanted these memories...
So why?
Why had it all happened to her?
She was sinking deeper now, the silence absolute. Her thoughts dulled. Her chest didn't even hurt anymore.
And yet—
"Rest… rest…" the voices whispered from the dark. "Just disappear. Let go…"
Her eyelids grew heavy. The pinprick of light above her blurred. Maybe this was better. Maybe...
Maybe—
She should just disappear.
Kallen curled into herself.
Arms wrapped tightly around her knees, forehead pressed to her shins. Everything around her was swallowed by darkness. The light she had once seen—so faint, so distant—now flickered like a dying ember, one breath away from vanishing forever.
She could hear someone calling her name. A voice she should've known.
"Kallen... wake up."
Mizuki's voice.
But Kallen only pressed her hands tighter over her ears.
She didn't want to care anymore.
Didn't want to fight.
She just wanted to rest.
----------------------------
Mizuki floated in silence, her brows drawn tight in frustration.
"Kallen…"
She reached toward the girl, her hand outstretched—only to pass right through her, as if Kallen weren't even there. As if she were nothing but mist.
Mizuki's chest tightened.
Something was wrong.
No—everything was wrong.
The moment she had entered Kallen's dream, she knew this wasn't a normal nightmare. It was alive. A pulsing, malignant thing that twisted space around it. Every time she tried to reach Kallen's, she was repelled, thrown back, lost in looping corridors of dreamstuff.
This nightmare… didn't want her here.
Then, without warning, the darkness around Mizuki shattered.
She winced, shielding her eyes.
When her vision cleared, the world had changed. Shadows had been replaced with pale, golden light filtered through tall stained glass windows. She stood in a white church, hollow and cold despite its beauty. At its center rested a large casket, ornate and unmoving beneath the pale dome.
And beside it slumped against the coffin was a child.
A girl with snow-white hair, her face hidden against folded arms, her frame small and fragile.
Kallen.
But younger. Much younger.
Mizuki's eyes drifted to the plaque beside the casket.
Here Lies Francis Kaslana.
So this was her father.
It made sense now Kallen Kaslana. Mizuki had only known the name vaguely through fragmented dreams. But here, the pieces began to fall together.
And then there was Otto…
Mizuki sighed.
Love, even twisted, was still love. Otto's obsession might have started as something noble, but it had burned into something dark, something poisonous.
Shaking her head, Mizuki stepped forward, her sandal echoing softly across the marble floor. The little girl didn't move until Mizuki was only a few paces away.
Then she raised her face.
Eyes dull and lifeless. Red-rimmed. Empty.
"Kallen," Mizuki said gently, kneeling beside her. "Let's go back. Come back to reality."
Little Kallen turned her head away. Her voice was hollow. "Why even bother?"
Mizuki's expression didn't change. "Because there are still people who care about you."
"Am I even worthy of being cared for?" the girl whispered.
Before Mizuki could respond, the scene twisted again.
The walls of the church crumbled into dust, swept away in silence. The coffin vanished. The stained glass dissolved into a gray sky.
Now they stood in a graveyard.
Graves stretched into the horizon.
In front of Mizuki stood a simple tombstone.
Here Lies Kallen Kaslana.
And beside her was the adult Kallen, fully grown once more. The version Mizuki knew. Still pale, still broken but her back was straight, her expression calm in its despair.
"I'm already dead," she said.
Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed her.
"A dead person should stay dead."
Mizuki turned to face her fully. "Do you really believe that?"
Kallen didn't answer. The wind carried the silence between them like ash.
But something in her eyes told Mizuki there was still time.
Even the dead could awaken, if their heart was still beating.
"Are you really going to disappear just like that, Kallen?" Mizuki's voice was quiet—but it cut through the graveyard's stillness like wind through dry leaves.
Kallen didn't meet her gaze. "Yes…"
Her voice was flat. Hollow.
Mizuki stepped closer, her hand gently resting on Kallen's shoulder, then drawing her into a tentative embrace. Kallen didn't resist—but she didn't return it either.
Mizuki spoke again, more softly this time, eyes locking with hers. "But when I look into your eyes… it doesn't seem like you want to disappear."
Kallen turned away.
"Even if I don't want to… does someone like me a sinner deserve to stay alive?" she murmured.
She forced a smile, but it was the kind that shattered hearts—a smile too tired to hope.
Mizuki's eyes narrowed. "You know, I may not understand everything you've been through, Kallen… but I do know this."
She stepped back just enough to hold Kallen by the shoulders.
"People who've made mistakes don't redeem themselves by vanishing. They do it by facing what they've done—and trying. What you're doing now… hiding, giving up… it's like you're spitting on everything you stood for."
Kallen flinched, her breath caught.
"So please," Mizuki whispered, voice trembling with resolve. "Stay alive. Redeem what's broken. Don't escape it."
Kallen blinked.
And for the first time… light stirred in her eyes.
A glimmer.
Mizuki extended her hand. Open. Warm. Waiting.
Kallen hesitated, then slowly reached out—
But the world around them began to shudder.
A low rumble vibrated beneath their feet. Then, from the corner of the broken dream, a scream echoed.
"NOOOOOO!!"
A younger version of Kallen—blurred, unstable, like a corrupted memory—stood trembling nearby. Her small figure distorted by static, fury in her faceless gaze.
Just inches more. Kallen's fingers brushed Mizuki's.
Then—
The dream cracked.
A violent pulse split them apart.
"Mizuki!" Kallen cried, arm stretched out.
"Kallen, hold on!" Mizuki reached back, fingers clawing through the air.
But they didn't connect.
Mizuki was thrown back. She shielded herself with her Anemo Vision, spinning midair as the void collapsed around her.
And then—
Silence.
Mizuki landed hard, sandal scraping against packed dirt.
The scent of incense drifted faintly on the breeze. Birds chirped overhead. A stream babbled somewhere nearby.
She stood up slowly, brushing dust from her outfit, her breath shaky.
"Kallen…?"
But the girl was nowhere in sight.
Mizuki's hands clenched into fists.
Frustration gnawed at her. She'd failed. She'd almost reached her.
And now?
Now she was here.
She turned slowly, scanning the new environment. Behind her, nestled between cherry blossom trees, stood a shrine.
But not one she recognized.
A wooden sign hung above its archway, swaying gently in the wind.
Shrine of Yae Village.
Mizuki frowned. "Yae... village?"
Her brows drew together.
"This isn't any shrine I've ever seen. And Yae never mentioned founding a village either…"
------------------------------
(A/n: ouch)