"You don't find the City. You confess to it. And if it listens, it lets you in."
The sky was wrong.
That's how Kai knew the city was near.
The stars weren't aligned—they were arranged. As if something had moved them like chess pieces, shaping a gate across the heavens. A warning. Or a map. Maybe both.
He stood at the edge of the salt flats with Elio and Serai, their shadows cast long and trembling. There was no wind. No sound. Just the hum of ancient magic thick enough to breathe.
"We're close," Serai said.
"How do you know?" Elio asked.
She held up the locket.
It was pulsing.
"Because it remembers her. And she was born here. Or died here. Or both."
Kai stepped forward. The flats shimmered like heatstroke, but colder.
With every step, the silence deepened—like the world was inhaling but refusing to exhale.
Then, without warning—
They fell.
Not into a hole. Not into shadow.
Into a memory.
The City didn't appear. It returned.Buildings unfolded like petals. Streets blinked into existence mid-footstep. Lamp posts lit themselves with memories.
The City that Hides Itself was made of echoes, not stone.
You couldn't map it. Couldn't own it.
You could only survive it if it let you.
They landed softly in an alley lined with windows—none of which reflected their faces.
Elio stumbled. "We're inside?"
Kai nodded. "But inside what?"
A voice answered:
"Inside what you tried to forget."
They turned.
A child stood there.
Silver eyes.
Burned hands.
Anelle.
Not the Dreamer.Not entirely.Something else.
"You left me here," she said quietly.
Serai stepped forward. "You shattered. We didn't know how to fix you."
"So you replaced me with spells. With time loops. With lies."
Anelle raised her hand.
The buildings around them twisted into versions of their childhood homes—burned, flooded, broken.
Kai whispered, "She's making us see our worst selves."
"No," Anelle said. "I'm making you remember."
Trial one: Elio
The world melted into a palace of mirrors.
Elio was alone.
Each mirror showed a version of him—smiling, weeping, killing.
One whispered:
"You lied to him."
Another:
"You loved him too late."
Another:
"You'll do it again."
Then one mirror cracked and spoke in Serai's voice:
"You'll always choose yourself."
He shattered it.
But the pieces kept speaking.
Trial Two: Serai
She woke in a garden.
One she planted as a child.
But every flower was a regret.
Each petal whispered the names of people she failed to save.
Then the plants reached for her, pulling her under, wrapping her in vines of guilt.
She screamed.
And from beneath the soil, her own voice whispered:
"You always run. Even from your name."
She clawed out of the dirt, gasping.
Trial Three: Kai
He faced the burning church again.
The same dream.The same mistake.
He was outside the door. Elio was inside. Screaming.
But this time, Kai didn't hesitate.
He ran through the flames.
And found himself… standing in the dreamer's place.
Watching Elio burn.
"You chose the loop," a voice whispered. "Not the love."
He collapsed to his knees.
"I'm sorry."
The flames blinked out.
They awoke together on a bridge made of starlight.
The City was changing again. Collapsing.
"What now?" Elio asked.
"We passed," Serai said. "It's letting us go."
But Kai's eyes were on a tower in the distance.
The Tower That Breathes.
It hadn't been there before.
"That's not part of the test," he said.
Anelle reappeared—older now. Maybe thirteen.
"That's the heart. Where the gods wrote the first ending."
Kai took a step forward.
"Then we write it again."