Rielun's POV:
The world didn't break this time.
It unraveled.
Threads of light peeled away from each other, drifting like ash in water. The ground beneath me wasn't stone anymore — it was memory, soft and unstable, shifting under my feet like it didn't know what shape it was supposed to hold.
I reached back instinctively.
Rowan's hand wasn't there.
Noctis's shadows weren't there.
Only cold air.
A wall of shimmering memory sealed behind me, rippling like a frozen lake. I pressed my palm to it.
"Rowan…?"
"Noctis…?"
Their voices were faint, distorted, as if I were hearing them through water.
"Rielun!" Rowan's voice cracked.
"Stay with me!" Noctis's shadows scraped against the barrier.
I swallowed hard.
"I'm trying," I whispered. "I'm trying."
But the memory swallowed the sound.
The air tasted like old tears.
Not fresh grief — the kind that has been sitting for centuries, sinking into the bones of a place until it becomes part of the walls.
Petals drifted around me, but they weren't soft.
They were brittle.
Dry.
Dead.
Every step I took made them crumble.
The chamber shifted with each breath:
• a corridor of broken mirrors
• a battlefield drowned in silence
• a nursery with no child
• a throne room with no king
• a ritual hall with no light
Each scene flickered for only a heartbeat, but each one felt like a place I had stood before.
My chest tightened.
"Why do I know this…?"
The memory didn't answer.
It only pulled me deeper.
He appeared slowly, like a figure rising from deep water.
Kneeling.
Bent over himself.
Hands trembling against the floor.
Not a god.
Not a guardian.
Just a man who had lost something he couldn't live without.
His shoulders shook with silent sobs.
Light pooled beneath him — not glowing, but leaking, like blood.
I stepped closer without meaning to.
He lifted his head.
And the look in his eyes—
It wasn't recognition.
It wasn't hope.
It wasn't anger.
It was relief.
A relief so raw it made my throat close.
"You came back…"
My breath hitched.
"I— I don't know you."
His expression shattered.
Not with anger.
With heartbreak.
"You don't remember."
The words weren't accusing.
They were mourning.
The chamber split open like a wound.
Scenes spilled out around me:
A child of light — small, fragile, glowing faintly — curled in the First Guardian's arms.
A storm of darkness rising from the ground, screaming without sound.
The First Guardian shielding the child with his own body.
A heart — pure, bright, impossibly warm — being torn from a chest.
A scream that cracked the world.
A vow whispered through blood and tears.
I staggered back, clutching my chest.
"I don't— I don't remember this—"
The First Guardian's echo reached toward me, fingers trembling.
"I do."
His voice broke.
"I remember losing you."
My knees gave out.
I fell into the petals — they shattered under me like glass.
Rowan's voice slammed through the barrier, raw and terrified.
"RIELUN! Answer me!"
Noctis's shadows clawed at the wall, frantic, trembling.
"Rielun, please— please say something—"
I pressed my forehead to the barrier.
"I'm here," I whispered. "I'm here, I'm here—"
But the memory swallowed my voice again.
I had never felt so far from them.
The chamber trembled.
The petals turned to ash.
The light dimmed to embers.
The echo flickered violently, like a candle in a storm.
The Hollow's voice seeped through the cracks.
"Little… one…"
The First Guardian reached for me.
The Hollow reached for me.
The chamber split in two.
My heart felt like it was being torn in opposite directions.
"Stop—" I gasped. "Please— stop—"
The trial whispered:
"Choose."
But I didn't know what I was choosing.
My past?
My present?
The one who lost me?
The ones who found me?
The heart I used to be?
The person I am now?
The chamber shattered.
And I fell into darkness.