The ritual courtyard had fallen silent, but the calm didn't last.
As they advanced into the next wing of the ruins, the sensation of being watched grew heavier. Not the gaze of hidden predators or invisible presences—something worse: their own reflections.
The corridor widened into a circular chamber, surrounded by broken columns that stretched upward until vanishing into a crystalline ceiling. At its center lay a polished surface, gleaming like liquid glass, reflecting the group with unnatural clarity. Indra stepped closer, and his reflection didn't simply mirror him—it moved before he did.
"Careful." Ye Chen murmured. "This is no ordinary illusion."
Aurora tilted her head, silver hair swaying in the chamber's ethereal glow. Her golden eyes shimmered with curiosity. "Living echoes." she whispered, almost entranced. "Not reflections… responses."
Alexia chuckled low, folding her arms. "Responses? Hm. Looks more like judgment. And look—our trial's already begun."
Indra stepped back on instinct. His reflection didn't. Instead, it advanced—a humanoid silhouette of translucent shadow, carved in his likeness but sharper, leaner, with blade-like movements.
The creature didn't strike at once. It raised a formless sword and assumed his exact stance. Indra swallowed hard. Testing, he executed a simple sequence of the Dance… and the echo copied him flawlessly.
Ye Chen's gaze narrowed.
"Void Sentinels. Guardians who punish mistakes." His voice carried respect, almost reverence. "Every error will be paid for."
Indra tried to steady his breath, but the weight pressing on his chest was crushing. His body flowed through the Dance—one, two, three sequences, each matched with absolute precision. Sweat trickled down his neck.
On the fourth sequence, he faltered—barely, a fraction too slow. The reflection didn't. It lunged, its shadow blade grazing his shoulder. Pain was real. Blood spilled.
Indra gasped. "They… they punish for real—"
Alexia leaned to the side, as if admiring a painting come alive. "Oh yes. No mercy here. You're not dancing with phantoms, Indra. You're dueling with judges."
Another echo emerged. Then another. Three shadows now encircled him, poised, awaiting his next mistake.
Aurora moved as if to step forward, but Ye Chen raised a hand. "Do not interfere." he said firmly. "This burden is his alone. The Dance chose him, not us."
Indra clenched his jaw, heart hammering, every beat driving his muscles into motion. He turned, slashed, advanced—the echoes mirrored him, but a heartbeat late. He was dictating the rhythm.
Until one broke the pattern. It shifted into a gesture unfamiliar. Indra tried to follow but failed.
The blade cut through his flank. He collapsed to his knees, blood pooling across the polished floor.
Aurora's golden eyes flashed as she took another half-step forward. "He'll die like this."
Alexia's smile curved, cruelly amused. "Perhaps. But what a spectacle it would be."
But Indra didn't yield. He pressed his palms to the floor, forcing himself upright despite the pain. If the Dance is a language… then they don't want perfection. They want dialogue.
He drew a deep breath. He didn't mimic. Didn't copy. He let his body follow instinct—the rhythm welling from somewhere between his heart and the forest around them. His invisible blade swept through the air, not in the echo's form, but in his own.
The Sentinels froze.
And then, for the first time, they bowed their heads—like warriors recognizing a new partner.
The chamber blazed with light. The shadows dissolved into dust, and the circle of stone dimmed.
Indra collapsed to his knees, exhausted but alive.
Ye Chen was the first to approach, silent as he lifted him by the shoulders, solemn expression unbroken. "You didn't win by imitation." he said. "You won when you dared to create."
Aurora knelt beside them, her voice soft yet piercing. "They recognized you. Not as apprentice… but as successor."
Alexia only smirked, eyes glittering with arrogance and delight. "Bravo. Keep it up, Indra. I'm eager to see how far your Dance takes you—before it breaks you."
Silence returned to the chamber. But all of them knew: something had changed. Indra was no longer just dragged along by the ruins. He had been marked by them.
---
The silence after the Sentinels' judgment was almost unbearable. The circular courtyard seemed to breathe with Indra, then exhale into stillness.
They pressed on through a long corridor, lit by a pale glow that came not from torches or crystals, but from the walls themselves. Each step echoed behind them, delayed, as though time itself stumbled to keep up.
The passage opened into a vast hall. Unlike what they had seen so far, this ruin felt… unfinished.
Columns rose only halfway before ending abruptly. Staircases climbed grandly, only to vanish into nothing. Gliphs etched on the walls stopped mid-phrase, as if words had been torn from stone, leaving silence behind.
Aurora walked slowly, one hand raised, fingers brushing near the glyphs. Her silver hair gleamed under the ambient light, golden eyes shining with wonder. "I've never seen anything like this… It's as if half the city has been erased from existence."
Alexia laughed softly, the sound hollow against the vast chamber. "Erased? Hm. Maybe swallowed. History does love to devour itself."
Ye Chen lifted his hand. A subtle glow shimmered as he drew from his Dimensional Ring. An ancient brush appeared, followed by a small inkstone, treated like relics. Kneeling, he began carefully tracing the glyphs onto parchment. "Old Elvish cannot be handled carelessly. Every curve, every stroke… is an echo of a people who believed language shaped reality."
Aurora watched closely, but her gaze soon drifted to Indra. "And you, Indra?" she asked, voice soft and melodic. "Do these symbols speak to you?"
Indra hesitated, then approached an unfinished inscription. Running his fingers across it, he felt not only the shapes but a cadence—as if hearing the words that had never been written.
"It's like… a stitched language." he murmured. "I see Sumerian structures, Hebrew repetitions… something of Ancient Egyptian. I can't read all of it, but… I understand the rhythm."
Ye Chen paused, truly surprised. "You studied linguistics?"
"In college." Indra admitted, eyes still on the wall. "But none of this… should exist."
Aurora leaned closer, golden eyes blazing as though she had discovered a hidden treasure. "Incredible. You're hearing what we can only see."
Alexia, lounging against a half-broken column, smirked. "Of course he hears. He's a magnet for the unnatural."
Indra ignored her, though his heart raced. Why did it feel like the walls were… speaking to him?
Together, the four pieced fragments into meaning. Isolated glyphs became strands of a broken story.
Ye Chen read softly: "Here rested…"
Aurora continued, eyes fixed on another wall: "…the dwelling of the High Elves, guardians of the First Song."
Indra added, hesitant but compelled, tracing a deeper carving: "Destroyed by the wings of Chyrral… and the flight of Velmurr."
The words hung heavy in the air, like a broken spell.
Silence fell. Even the chamber's echoes seemed to bow to that name.
Ye Chen closed the parchment with reverence, returning brush and ink to his Ring. "Chyrral and Velmurr… Dark Elves' Spirit Beasts. If true, this is no ruin—it is a civilization's tomb."
Aurora smiled faintly, though her golden eyes glittered with another intent. "Fascinating. To be here is like touching the skin of a dead god."
Alexia arched a brow, bored yet amused. "And you truly believe in 'lost histories'? Perhaps we're only reading the epitaph of the losers."
Indra stayed silent, a knot tightening inside him.
Aurora's gaze returned to him, probing, as if she could see the unease in his chest. Ye Chen, by contrast, stood tall, free of judgment—only respect.
I thought all heirs would be arrogant like Alexia, Indra thought. But Ye Chen speaks of honor, and Aurora… looks at me as if I'm some rare artifact. I don't know which is worse.
At the far end of the hall, something pulsed faintly. An altar, cracked and strangled in roots and dust, glimmered like a dormant heart.
Aurora smiled. "So there's more to uncover."
Alexia pushed from the column, finally interested. "Excellent. I was getting bored."
Indra, however, couldn't shake the feeling that every step into the Hidden Layer dragged him closer to a truth he wasn't ready to bear.
The altar drew them like gravity. Stone black as obsidian, veiled in silver moss and roots coiled like sleeping serpents. Broken in parts, yet its core still pulsed with light—like a heart refusing to stop.
Aurora approached first, silver hair shining, golden eyes burning with fascination. "A memory amphora." she whispered. "The Elves believed sacred places could retain echoes of the past."
Ye Chen halted several paces away, hands clasped behind his back. His tone was calm, but resolute. "Careful. Old Elvish is not merely language, but will. To touch this altar may cost more than energy. It may cost the soul."
Alexia laughed lightly. "Then it's perfect for us. Don't you think, Indra?"
His heart thundered. Ever since entering the Hidden Layer, the Dance had stirred on its own—unbidden gestures, muscles recalling something he never learned. Now, before the altar, the rhythm pounded louder. His fingers traced the beginning of a glyph in the air.
Aurora's eyes widened. "He's being called."
Alexia's smile sharpened. "Go on, Indra. Give us the show."
Drawing a deep breath, Indra placed his hand on the altar. The world shattered.
The ground trembled. Gravity warped, throwing them off balance. The hall burst into a mosaic of light and shadow.
And then—the echoes began.
Translucent Elves appeared, marching in formation, training the Dance in flawless unity. Their voices rose in distant chants, incomprehensible yet rhythmic. The air smelled of ancient incense, though no fire burned.
Indra was pulled to the center. His feet moved without command, mirroring the spectral warriors. Each gesture corrected by waves of energy, as if the forest itself shaped him.
Aurora watched, enraptured. "It's… it's as if the technique recognizes its source in him."
Ye Chen's gaze tightened, but without hostility. Only respect. "Not technique. More than that. He is translating a language we cannot hear."
Alexia tilted her head, delighted. "And to think I once believed you dead weight. Look at you now, Indra. A living relic."
His body burned. The altar pulsed in rhythm with his heart, and for an instant—he saw.
Not the ruined hall, but the past. Towers of ivory, bridges suspended in air, elven gardens defying gravity. A city blazing like a beacon. And then—two vast shadows crossing the skies. The owl Chyrral, devouring names, silencing voices with its song. The raven Velmurr, stealing screams, trapping them in mute throats.
Splendor crumbled into ruin in a blink.
Indra staggered back, tearing his hand from the altar. The vision dissolved, leaving the hall in silence once more.
Ye Chen spoke first, solemn. "You touched the memory of their end."
Aurora stepped closer, her golden eyes locked on him with unnerving intensity. "Indra… you saw what we only study. You are the key to this place."
Alexia clicked her tongue, smirking. "Ha. I knew dragging you here would pay off."
Indra gasped, mind reeling. Why me? Why does the Dance keep dragging me into the center of everything? But no answer came. Only the altar's silence, now dim, as if it had given all it could.
Then—a sound rolled through the ruins. A deep, slow toll, like a bell.
Ye Chen's brow furrowed.
"The Stone Bells… they haven't tolled since the collapse of the Intermediate Layer."
Aurora smiled, enigmatic.
"Perhaps the Layer wishes to remind us—the performance isn't over yet."
Indra only clenched his fists, fighting for breath. Deep down, he knew: this was only the beginning.