The dreams started that night.
Not the usual fragmented flashes of shadow and light that had haunted Ren since the awakening. These were slower. Deeper. Shared.
He woke drenched in sweat at 3:14 a.m., heart hammering, the Anchor rune over his chest burning like a brand. Beside him, Aoi sat bolt upright at the exact same moment—eyes wide, breathing ragged, silver-white hair plastered to her forehead.
They looked at each other in the dim pod light.
"You saw it too," she whispered.
Ren nodded once.
The vision had been identical.
They stood together—not in the Red Forest, but somewhere impossible: a vast, starless void where the horizon curved upward like the inside of a sphere. At the center floated the Eclipse Shard—larger than life, obsidian surface cracked with veins of violet-gold light. It wasn't floating. It was bleeding.
Thick, liquid essence—half shadow, half radiance—dripped from the fissures and fell upward, defying gravity, drawn back into the disc like reverse rain. The Shard pulsed weakly. Each throb sent ripples through the void, and with every ripple came a voice—not Kurogami's amused drawl, not Luminara's serene chime, but something older, exhausted, almost childlike.
Help me.
I am tired.
Finish what was started… or let me die.
Ren reached for the Shard in the dream.
Aoi reached at the same instant.
Their fingers brushed the surface together.
The moment they touched it, the void collapsed inward—swallowing them both. No pain. No fear. Just a sudden, perfect stillness. Their bodies dissolved into threads of twilight energy that wove together, becoming one seamless current. No Ren. No Aoi. Only balance. Only power. Only peace.
Then the vision snapped.
They were back in the pod—gasping, shaking, hands already clasped so tightly their knuckles had gone white.
Ren spoke first—voice hoarse.
"It's dying."
Aoi nodded—slow, horrified.
"And it wants us to save it… by becoming part of it."
They didn't sleep again that night.
At 7:00 a.m., Hana summoned them to her chamber.
The violet orb still floated above her head, but today it flickered—unsteady, like a candle in wind.
She didn't sit.
She stood with her back to them, staring into the orb as though it held answers she no longer trusted.
"The Shard is not eternal," she said without turning. "It was never meant to last this long. When I sealed it eighty years ago, I thought I was preserving a possibility. Instead I trapped it in limbo. It has been slowly bleeding essence ever since—feeding on its own existence to stay coherent. The guardians weren't protecting it. They were keeping it alive."
She finally faced them.
"It's reaching critical decay. Within weeks—maybe days—it will fracture completely. When that happens, the released essence will tear open a permanent rift at the site. Class-10. Uncontainable. The Order will nuke the entire Chiba forest from orbit. Mei will try to harvest the fallout. Either way… millions die."
Ren felt Aoi's hand tighten in his.
Hana continued—voice flat, clinical, but her eyes betrayed exhaustion centuries deep.
"The only way to stabilize it is reunion. A vessel—or vessels—capable of holding both polarities must willingly merge with it. Not possess it. Become it. The Shard would live through you. You would live through the Shard. No more rejection. No more suppression. Perfect equilibrium."
She looked between them.
"But there is no coming back from that. You would cease to be two people. You would become one entity. Eternal. Balanced. And utterly alone in your own mind."
Silence filled the chamber.
The violet orb dimmed once—almost mournful.
Aoi spoke—voice barely above a whisper.
"Is there another way?"
Hana shook her head.
"I've spent eighty years looking. There isn't."
Ren exhaled slowly.
"Then we go back."
Aoi turned to him—sharp.
"Ren—"
"We go back," he repeated—gentler this time. "Not to merge. Not yet. We go back to see it. To talk to it. To understand what it really wants. If it's dying… maybe it just wants to be heard. Maybe there's still time to find another path."
Hana studied them both.
"You're risking everything on hope."
Ren gave a small, crooked smile.
"That's all we've ever had."
Aoi looked up at him—sunrise eyes searching his face.
"If we go… and it asks again…"
Ren cupped her cheek.
"Then we decide together. Same as always."
She leaned into his touch—closed her eyes.
"Together."
Hana exhaled—long, almost relieved.
"I'll prepare the extraction route. Quiet. No Current escort. Just the two of you. If you don't come back…"
She touched the cracked jade at her throat.
"…tell your mother I'm sorry I never got to say goodbye properly."
Aoi's throat worked.
"I will."
They left the chamber hand in hand.
Outside, the hub was already moving—cleanup from the rift incursion complete, preparations for defense underway. People nodded to them as they passed—some with respect, some with fear, most with quiet gratitude.
No one asked where they were going.
They didn't need to.
Ren and Aoi slipped into their pod one last time.
Packed light: stabilizers, suppressors, the one-use beacon, a single burner phone.
Aoi sat on the mattress edge.
Ren knelt in front of her—took both her hands.
"If this is the last normal moment we get…"
She leaned forward—kissed him slow, deep, unhurried.
When they parted, foreheads pressed:
"I love you," she whispered.
"Before the Shard. Before the powers. Before any of it. Just you."
Ren smiled against her skin.
"I love you too.
The stubborn, sunrise-eyed girl who chose me when she was supposed to end me."
They stood.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Ready.
Outside the pod curtain, rain still fell over Neo-Tokyo—soft, relentless, eternal.
Inside their chests, two ancient essences waited—patient, fading, hopeful.
And somewhere in the Red Forest, the Eclipse Shard pulsed one last time—weak, but clear.
Come.
Please.
They stepped out into the corridor.
Hand in hand.
Into the storm.
Essence Level: 9.7
(no gain—resonance held steady under emotional weight)
Current status: En route to Red Forest – Final confrontation looming – Shard's decay accelerating
End of Chapter 25