The descent wasn't like falling—it was like being peeled out of reality.
Kai's scream echoed into silence as the chamber's light swallowed them whole. One second they stood in a ruin of magic and ash, the next, they were floating above a mirror world, suspended in amber, stitched with the threads of forgotten time.
It was Ilyor.
But not the Ilyor they knew.
This one was unmarred, golden-hued. The buildings were intact. Trees bloomed in impossible colors. Children's laughter hung in the wind like windchimes made of joy.
No plague. No curse. No silence.
Just… peace.
"I—Is this an illusion?" Serai whispered, trying to touch the cobblestones. They felt warm, real.
"No," Kai said, voice breaking. "It's the world she wished for."
Anelle's dream.
A world built from longing. From sacrifice.
From everything they'd all destroyed.
Elio's fists were clenched. "Why show us this now?"
A new voice answered.
Not Anelle's.
His.
"Because you've entered my dominion now."
He stepped out from behind a rose-laced archway, tall, wrapped in velvet shadows and rings of runes. His eyes were bottomless—like time itself had taken human form.
"Call me Veyrion," he said.
Kai stiffened. "The first forge-bearer…"
"The first traitor," Serai spat.
Veyrion smiled, sad. "The first believer. I built this world for her, once. Then I watched it crumble."
His hand swept toward the illusion-Ilyor. "She reimagined it better. And now? You're standing inside her grief."
Anelle emerged behind him, quiet, regal, her face unreadable.
"You think you can fix what was broken," she said. "But love isn't a weapon. Or a ritual. Or a sacrifice."
"It's a mirror," Veyrion finished. "And all of you cracked it."
Kai stepped forward. "Then let us mend it. Whatever it takes."
Anelle tilted her head. "Even if it means becoming what you fear most?"
Even if it means dying a hundred times across space and time?
Even if it means losing each other—again?
Serai didn't flinch. "Yes."
Elio swallowed hard, then nodded. "We owe it to the dream."
Veyrion's smile turned bitter. "Then walk with us into the Forge of Remembering. And don't look back."
And just like that, the illusion began to shatter—piece by glowing piece—pulling them into the next trial.
But as they moved, Kai glanced back once.
Just once.
And saw a version of himself—smiling, unscarred, holding Anelle's hand.
A version that never existed.
A version that could've been.
Then the light went black.
The air between them grew still—too still, like a breath caught in the chest of the universe. There were no clocks ticking, no winds howling, no whispers from the trees that once hummed ancient songs. Just silence. Deafening, cruel, sacred silence.
Aeren stood, blood drying on his knuckles, heart thrumming like a drumbeat from an old war hymn. He wasn't looking at Almond anymore. He was looking through her—into a version of himself that had knelt before time, begged it to turn back, to make things simple again. But time never knelt back. Time only ever watched, heartless and patient.
"I wish I met you in another life," he said quietly, as though scared the words might shatter between them. "Maybe there... we wouldn't be monsters."
Almond smiled. It was broken and beautiful—like a cracked mirror reflecting stars. "But we are monsters here, and still, I would choose you every time. Even if it means bleeding through centuries for one night in your arms."
Their hands found each other again. Not because they had healed. But because they had survived.
The sky cracked open—literally. A rift above, silver-edged and pulsing like a heartbeat. Time didn't bend for love. But something else had. Reality. The Veil. Destiny, maybe. All warped because two broken immortals dared to hold each other too tight.
Aeren looked up. "Do you feel that?"
"Yes," Almond whispered. Her eyes glowed, not with magic, but with memory. "It's beginning."
"What is?"
"The unraveling."
Around them, the world began to peel at the edges—memories blending with the present, people long dead whispering in the trees. The curse had always been cyclical, but now… it was collapsing. All of it. Because love had become a rebellion. And rebellion was contagious.
And as they stood in the middle of history breaking open, Almond touched his jaw gently and murmured like a lullaby, "If we survive this… I'll take you to the place where even gods fear to dream."
They kissed in the center of the collapse—like sinners claiming salvation with tongue and teeth. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't pure. It was war. A kiss that tasted of ash and ancient oaths. Almond clutched him like a girl who knew this was her last dance with the devil and didn't care if she got burned.
The Veil above them cracked again—this time louder. Not just sound. It echoed through memory. Every regret Aeren ever had came crashing down on his spine. Every lie Almond told herself about not being worthy of softness unraveled like silk soaked in rain.
The universe wasn't built to hold love like theirs.
They stumbled back, the earth trembling beneath their feet. From the rift in the sky, shadow-beasts began to slither downward—hungry, formless, ancient. The curse had sent its children to stop the rebellion of hearts. Magic born of broken promises was always cruel to those who dared defy it.
"We opened something we can't close," Aeren whispered, chest heaving.
"No," Almond said, stepping forward, voice like thunder in velvet. "We revealed something that always existed. The lie was pretending we weren't gods too."
She raised her hand. Her veins lit up like molten gold, the magic of a thousand forgotten rituals crackling through her fingertips. She wasn't just casting a spell—she was the spell. A living invocation, carved from grief and glory.
The shadow-beasts hissed—but hesitated.
Aeren moved beside her, his own power pulsing from his core like a second heartbeat. Together, they looked like a myth someone tried to erase—but couldn't.
"What if we die?" he asked, quietly.
"We already did," she answered, brushing her thumb across his jaw. "This… this is the haunting."
And with that, they charged.
No hesitation. No fear.
Just two immortal hearts—flawed, fierce, and free.