The facility trembled beneath Lysandra's boots. Red warning lights pulsed across the ceiling, and the air stank of ozone and burnt metal.
The figure before her — the original Keybreaker — stepped from the smoke.
Its body was armored, humanoid yet unnervingly mechanical, its surface engraved with runes that glowed molten gold. Each movement emitted the faint sound of metal shifting, like locks turning by themselves.
> "You broke the seals," it said, voice echoing with ancient static. "The world remembers its first Keybreaker… and now it remembers you."
Lysandra's heartbeat pounded in her ears. "Who are you?"
> "The key that was buried. The one who locked the world to save it."
The ground around it cracked, releasing streams of shimmering golden energy. Locks and seals appeared midair, orbiting it like broken planets — each one pulsing with power.
She raised her hand. "Then you're the one who kept us all in cages."
> "And you will be the one to open the wrong door."
It attacked first.
A shockwave erupted, hurling Lysandra backward. Metal doors bent like paper; the lights shattered in bursts of sparks. She rolled, hands scraping against the cold floor, and slammed her palm down.
> "Lock!"
The incoming wave of energy froze in midair — chains of gold suspended inches from her face. She twisted her wrist.
> "Unlock."
They exploded outward, reversing direction.
The Keybreaker stumbled, but only for a heartbeat. The creature's armor split open, revealing hundreds of miniature keyholes spinning beneath its chest plate. Each one hummed in resonance with her power.
> "You cannot outlock the origin."
It thrust out a hand, and invisible pressure wrapped around Lysandra's body. Her limbs stiffened — every joint, every tendon locked in place. She gasped, unable to move.
"Your power… it's mine," the voice said. "You're an echo."
Her vision blurred. She could feel the invisible locks holding her muscles, her breath, even her heartbeat. But inside, something pulsed stronger — her will.
> "If I'm your echo," she whispered, "then you taught me how to turn the key."
She focused inward.
Not on the locks holding her — but on the one inside her mind.
The one that whispered fear.
She unlocked it.
A surge of energy erupted from her chest, white-gold and violent. The invisible locks shattered. She screamed, the sound blending with the roar of released power.
Every lock in the room — doors, armor plates, machines — began clicking open and slamming shut in chaos.
The Keybreaker faltered. "Impossible…"
Lysandra extended her hand, her aura flaring bright gold.
> "Lockdown."
A single massive keyhole appeared beneath her feet, spreading outward like a glowing sigil. Golden chains burst from the ground, wrapping around the original Keybreaker's limbs, chest, and neck.
> "You've opened too much," Lysandra said. "Now it's time to close it again."
The chains tightened — a hundred locks sealing at once. The room filled with a sound like a thousand doors closing forever.
The original Keybreaker fell to one knee, struggling, light flickering across its surface.
> "You would… imprison me?"
Lysandra walked closer, breathing hard. "No. Just silence you… until I understand what I am."
She turned the air key in her hand — a glowing shape of pure light.
Click.
The creature's body froze completely, locked in place mid-motion. Its golden eyes dimmed.
For a long moment, the room was silent except for her ragged breathing.
She could end it. One twist, and the ancient being would crumble.
But something inside her resisted.
> "Killing you would make me no different," she whispered.
She released the spectral key. The chains shimmered, forming a stasis seal instead of a prison. The original Keybreaker remained motionless — silent, yet alive.
---
Lysandra turned away and walked down the corridor. The alarms had stopped; only faint sparks of light flickered in the broken facility. Her power still hummed faintly beneath her skin, but exhaustion pressed on her like gravity.
She reached the exit — a large blast door, dented and half open. Outside, the air was cold and filled with ash. The city skyline beyond was half-collapsed, neon lights flickering in the ruins.
She stepped outside and breathed real air for the first time.
Freedom.
For a moment, it felt almost peaceful.
Then she heard something — a soft, playful hum.
She turned sharply.
Out from behind a broken wall, a small figure peeked. A little girl, no older than ten, with greenish-blue skin and button-bright pink eyes. Her dress was torn and stitched together with ribbons. One of her knees had a patch shaped like a heart, and her twin pigtails were tied with uneven bows.
She tilted her head curiously at Lysandra.
> "Hi there," the girl said in a sing-song voice. "You're glowing."
Lysandra blinked. "Who are you?"
The little girl stepped out fully, her small shoes tapping against the cracked pavement. Despite her eerie, doll-like appearance, her expression was warm — almost too human.
> "My name's Lune! I'm… visiting."
Lysandra frowned. "Visiting? From where?"
Lune smiled, eyes glowing faintly pink. "Another place. Another universe, actually. But I got bored there. So I came here to look around. It's quiet, and everyone's so serious!"
There was something in her tone — ancient, almost cosmic — hidden beneath childish cheer. Lysandra felt a strange pressure in the air, like gravity bending around the girl. Her instincts screamed at her that Lune was not what she appeared.
She reached out, trying to sense the locks around the girl's presence. Nothing. No vibration. No mechanism. No control.
Her power — didn't work.
Lysandra's breath caught. "What… are you?"
Lune tilted her head, ribbons swaying. "Hmm… I'm one of Doran's creations. Level One. That's what she called me before I left. Nobody there could beat me, so I came here instead!"
She said it casually, like she was talking about skipping school.
Lysandra froze, the name unfamiliar yet heavy with meaning. "Doran…?"
Lune just smiled wider. "You'll find out later. She likes smart people."
The girl skipped closer and took Lysandra's hand. Her touch was cold but strangely soothing.
> "Don't worry, Miss Keybreaker," Lune said gently. "I'm not here to fight. I just want to see what you unlock next."
Despite the unease coiling in her stomach, Lysandra found herself smiling faintly. "Then… you're staying?"
Lune nodded. "Uh-huh! I'll be good. Promise."
She twirled once, her torn dress fluttering like dark silk. "You look lonely. Maybe I can fix that."
Lysandra hesitated, then squeezed the girl's hand. "Alright, Lune. Let's go."
> "Yay! Where are we going?"
Lysandra looked at the ruined horizon, the city half asleep under dying neon light.
> "To unlock the world."