The gardens of Everhart stretched wide beneath the moon, their hedges pruned into elegant arcs, the fountain glimmering silver with each ripple of water. Andy stood at its edge, staring at his reflection. His own eyes looked foreign—tired, shadowed, unsure. He had bled through battles and stood against beasts, but the war of whispers was draining him more than any wound.
He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "I just need… a moment."
"You always came here when you were troubled."
The voice was soft, melodic, woven with sorrow and familiarity. Andy spun, blades flashing halfway out of their sheaths—then froze.
Kayla stood by the garden path, draped in pale silk that shimmered like starlight. Her expression was tender, almost fragile, as though speaking cost her strength.
"I…" Andy's grip tightened. "How do you know that?"
Her lips curved in a sad smile. "Because I was here with you. Long ago. Before the trials, before the System bound you to her. Don't you remember, Andy?"
His chest constricted. "That's… no. I don't—"
"You don't remember because it was taken from you," she whispered, stepping closer. "But I remember everything. The meadow where we played. The willow tree where we made promises. The day you swore never to let go of my hand."
Her words painted images so vivid that they didn't feel like lies. Andy staggered as visions bloomed behind his eyes: sunlight spilling through branches, his younger self laughing with a girl whose rose-silver hair caught the wind. Her hand in his—warm, real.
His throat tightened. No… no, this isn't mine. This isn't real.
Kayla's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "They stole it from you, Andy. They gave you to another. But I… I never forgot."
He clutched his head, breath ragged. "Stop… stop putting this in me!"
But the images deepened. The laughter of a child version of himself, the sensation of running barefoot through wildflowers, the echo of a young voice—her voice—crying, "Promise me!" And his boyish echo: "Always."
The ache in his chest twisted into longing.
Kayla reached out, her fingers trembling, her voice breaking. "Please… remember me. Don't let them erase us."
Andy's knees nearly buckled. His blades slipped from his grip, clattering against stone. His heart screamed that this wasn't true, but his body yearned to believe.
The System shrieked in his mind:
> [Alert] Memory interference detected.
Threat level: High.
Foreign construct invading emotional core.
Countermeasure required.
He staggered, falling against the fountain. "This… this isn't real. Nia is—Nia is—"
But the words slipped, drowned beneath the flood.
Kayla knelt beside him, her touch hovering just above his cheek. "I am not asking you to betray her. I am only asking you to remember me. The girl you loved first."
Her aura pressed against him like honey—sweet, intoxicating, suffocating. His pulse slowed, his breath trembled. For a heartbeat, Andy almost whispered her name.
"Enough."
The word cracked the illusion like lightning.
Silver light blazed at the edge of the garden. Nia stood there, her staff aglow, eyes burning with fire that cut through the fog. The images shattered—sunlight, laughter, the willow—all dissolving into smoke. Andy gasped as air rushed back into his lungs, the false memories fleeing.
Kayla's serene mask faltered. Her sorrowful eyes flickered with something sharp, hungry, before she hid it again beneath gentleness. "Lady Nia," she whispered, "why do you insist on keeping him from what was his?"
Nia strode forward, her aura steady, unyielding. "If you must steal his mind to claim him, then he was never yours."
The corrupted goddess tilted her head, smiling with perfect grace. "You speak of theft. I speak of restoration. One day, he will remember."
Her words dripped with certainty, yet her gaze glittered cold. She rose, her gown sweeping like mist, and with a final sorrowful smile she melted into the shadows of the hedge.
The garden fell silent.
Andy collapsed to his knees, clutching his head. His body shook, sweat dripping down his temple. He gasped as though surfacing from drowning.
Nia dropped beside him, her staff clattering to the grass. She cupped his face, her voice trembling. "Andy! Look at me. Look at me!"
His eyes met hers—wild, pained. Slowly, breath by breath, the haze cleared. He caught her wrists, pressing them against his cheeks. "I almost… I almost believed her. For a moment, I thought she was real. That she was mine."
Nia's eyes softened, though tears glistened at the corners. "That's what makes her dangerous. But she isn't real. I am."
The System pulsed, steady and warm:
> [Bond Progression: 136% → 139%]
Interference resisted. Mutual trust reinforced.
Emotional anchor established.
Andy buried his face against her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her tightly, desperately. "Don't let me go, Nia. If she tries again, if I slip—"
She held him closer, her fingers threading through his hair. "I won't. Not now. Not ever."
For a long time, they stayed there on the grass, the fountain's silver water rippling behind them. The night was quiet again, but the shadow of Kayla's touch lingered in Andy's chest.
He whispered hoarsely, "She'll keep trying."
Nia kissed his forehead, her lips soft, resolute. "And I'll keep fighting."
Together, beneath the moonlight, they sat as partners—not because fate bound them, but because their hearts chose each other again, in defiance of every illusion.
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