The Cradle didn't operate by natural rules. It didn't feel like stepping into a room—it felt like being swallowed by thought itself.
Theo, Nova, and Ayen passed through the archway of silver threads, and the world twisted. There was no clear transition, no door that opened or floor that gave way. One second, the sterile air of the valley whispered around them. The next, they stood inside a different reality.
Theo blinked.
Vireon.
Not the hollow wreck he remembered from his escape, but alive—vibrant. The sky was clear, and the skyline shimmered with kinetic towers. Bright banners flapped on magnetrails. Drones zipped through the air in practiced patrols. Pedestrians bustled with purpose, uniforms and tech accessories marking them as Origin-linked.
It hit him like a blow to the chest. "This… This isn't real."
Nova's boots clanged on a steel walkway that hadn't existed moments ago. She glanced around, alert, eyes scanning for traps. "This feels too solid to be an illusion."
"It's not an illusion," Ayen said quietly. "The Cradle isn't showing you what it wants. It's showing you what you buried."
Theo's breath hitched. His knees nearly buckled.
"I know this day," he murmured.
Nova turned to him, frowning. "What day?"
"The first time I was offered the Reset Protocol." His eyes narrowed as a figure walked through the wide plaza. "And the first time I refused."
Nova followed his gaze—and froze.
Another Theo.
Not quite the same. This one was sharper. His hair was neatly cropped, his uniform flawless. There was a weight to his presence, like gravity bent toward him. Soldiers saluted as he passed. Drones deferred. His face was expressionless, yet his eyes were calculating.
Cold.
Nova's hand gripped the railing. "That's… you?"
Theo's voice went flat. "That's who I would've become if I said yes."
The other Theo paused at a junction. For the briefest second, his gaze flicked up—directly at them. Nova recoiled, her body tensing, but the soldiers and crowd walked through them as though they were ghosts.
Ayen placed a calming hand on Nova's shoulder. "It's a memory echo. He can't see us."
"Then why does it feel like he did?" Nova muttered.
The image of Vireon shimmered. With a deep, almost seismic hum, the world cracked.
Like a mirror dropped from great height.
Reality fractured. The clean lines of the city broke into jagged shards. Light tore across the sky, bleeding into a cavernous dark. When the pieces stopped spinning, they were no longer outside.
They were inside a vast chamber. Silent. Cold.
Mirrors lined the walls—hundreds of them. Each shimmered with a different version of the people standing before them.
Nova stepped up to hers.
She saw herself in battle armor, blood smeared across her cheek. Her reflection was holding a weapon, standing over a body—her own expression locked in pain and fury. Another mirror showed her crying, alone. Another, laughing like a child.
Her mouth tightened. "These aren't real."
"They're all real," Ayen said softly. "Just not all true."
Theo stood still. His reflections didn't settle on one image. They changed every second—him as a scholar, pouring over old tomes; him as a tyrant, cities burning behind him; him as nothing more than bones in a desert; and one, just one, where he floated above the world, glowing with silver light, more energy than man.
He flinched. "How much of me… is still me?"
Nova stepped beside him. "Enough to ask that question."
One mirror, larger than the rest, began to glow. Not white, but silver, like the gate they entered. It didn't show any reflection.
It showed a door.
Ayen's tone turned solemn. "This is the Cradle's offer. If we go through… there's no reset from what lies beyond. No checkpoints. No do-overs."
Theo stared at it.
He remembered blood. Ash. Screams that never left his head.
He remembered silence after the last reset. The loneliness of knowing too much.
"I don't want a reset," he said. "I want a reckoning."
Nova gave him a quiet nod. "Then let's go forward. Together."
They stepped through.
And the mirrors shattered behind them.