The sky was too quiet.
No storm clouds.
No black vines.
No screams.
Just silence.
And for the first time in years, Lyra didn't wake up with a knife in her hand.
She sat on the grass just beyond Sanctuary Thirteen, legs tucked under her, morning dew clinging to her skin.
The white tree stood tall behind her — its leaves glowing faintly, like veins lit from within.
She reached into her coat pocket and held up the tiny silver device.
Liam's final message.
She'd listened to it 39 times.
Today would be the 40th.
But she paused.
Because something felt… different.
The air around her shimmered.
Faintly.
Like heatwaves on pavement.
"Gardener," a voice whispered behind the veil of reality.
Meanwhile… Beyond the Boundary
The world between worlds was not light or dark.
It was memory.
Stretching.
Shifting.
A plane of pulsing white veins and black glass, where fragments of every universe echoed like drops in a vast ocean.
Liam stood at the edge of it all.
Wearing no armor.
No body.
Just presence.
The System Crown rested above his head, glowing with dormant power.
A root-like thread extended from his chest to the white tree in Lyra's world.
She was his anchor.
His soul's last tether.
Today, something tugged on it.
Hard.
A shard had pierced the veil.
He turned.
And saw a red fracture in the sky.
Alive.
It pulsed with Root-like patterns—but they were twisted. Unstable. Wrong.
Not born of corruption.
Born of rage.
[Boundary Alert – External Force Detected]
> Classification: Unknown
Signature: Not Root-Origin
Risk: TBD
Status: Breach Imminent
Gardener Protocol: Engage or Isolate?
Liam narrowed his eyes.
> "So... the Root wasn't the end."
> "Just the gatekeeper."
He raised his hand and the system flared in his palm.
A single command whispered across the boundary:
> "Lyra… get ready."
Back in the Real World
Lyra flinched.
The tree glowed.
And then—
She heard his voice again.
Clearer than the recording.
> "Something's coming."
> "It's not the Root."
> "But it's worse."
Her heart clenched.
> "Liam?"
The light pulsed.
> "I can't cross back. But you… you can defend what we planted."
She stood.
Slowly.
No panic.
Just purpose.
She turned toward the Sanctuary.
The girls were already waiting.
Vira sharpening her blade.
Ava booting up scanners.
Echo blinking to life with a subtle nod.
Artemis was still missing. But Lyra could feel her too — somewhere out there, listening.
The Garden was ready.
They just didn't know what was coming.
Yet.
Lyra turned back to the tree and whispered:
> "Then send me the signs, Liam."
> "And I'll protect this place."
Somewhere beyond the veil, Liam watched her smile.
And though he no longer had a human heart,
It still ached.
It still loved.