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Rin hit the ground hard.
Not water, not stone but soil
Cold and damp, with the faint scent of petrichor and wilted flowers. She blinked rapidly, the world spinning, breath catching in her throat. The black crystal still pulsed faintly in her hand.
Kael landed beside her with a grunt, rolling to his feet. "Rin—are you alright?"
"I think so." She sat up slowly, clutching her ribs. "Where are we?"
They were in a field.
But not just any field—this one was encircled by broken statues and overgrown roots, as if the earth itself had reclaimed what once stood here. The sky above was veiled in storm clouds, yet no rain fell. Just a heavy, expectant silence.
Kael helped her up, scanning the surroundings. "That was a forced transfer. Someone pulled us out of the vault."
Rin looked down at the crystal in her palm. "Reika said it would protect the thread… maybe this was the price."
A soft wind passed through the field—and with it, the faintest whisper.
"…the garden…"
Rin turned sharply.
And froze.
Because there it was.
Half-buried in vines and time—a rusted gate, barely standing. Beyond it, a path of cracked stone leading into what remained of a circular garden. Statues leaned inward, most crumbled or eroded beyond recognition.
But she knew this place.
The garden from her dreams.
"It's real…" she whispered. "I thought it was just in my mind."
Kael followed her gaze, eyes narrowing. "Then we're further in than we thought. We're inside your memories now."
Rin walked ahead slowly, heart pounding. Every step felt like returning home and walking toward danger all at once. The garden was filled with ruined beauty—faded violets growing wild, their scent strangely sharp in the air. A stone bench sat at the center, cracked but upright.
And on it sat a figure.
A child.
White hair, clad in dark robes too large for their small frame. Their feet dangled above the soil, swinging lightly. They looked up as Rin approached, wide gold eyes locking onto hers.
"I know you," Rin said before she could stop herself.
The child tilted their head. "No. You remember me."
Kael's hand went to his sword. "Who are you?"
"I've had many names," the child replied. "But once… I was called Mikado."
Rin's breath caught. "Lord Daizen Mikado?"
The child smiled faintly. "Not yet. But soon."
Kael stepped forward. "You're not supposed to exist anymore. You were erased from all records—"
"Because I asked to be," the child interrupted. "I made them forget. To protect what was left of me. Of her."
Rin's voice was hoarse. "Her?"
The child looked at her. "You were my anchor. Before the fire. Before the chain shattered."
He reached toward the stone beneath the bench. With a touch, it split apart, revealing an altar of some kind—runic carvings swirling with old, forgotten power.
"I've waited lifetimes to see you again," Mikado whispered. "But this time, we don't have much time."
Kael stepped between them. "What do you want from her?"
Mikado's expression dimmed. "Not what you fear. I want to fix what was broken. But I can't do it alone. Not without her memory."
Rin gripped the crystal tighter. "Then tell me everything."
Mikado looked down at the altar. "This world was once held in place by four Anchors—souls strong enough to stabilize the weave of time and fate. You were the First. I was the Fourth. The others… have fallen."
"The Watchers," Rin said softly.
He nodded. "When the soul-weaving began to unravel, people tried to reshape their destinies. The result was war, destruction—and something worse. A soul without tether. A void trying to rewrite everything."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Isamu."
"No," Mikado said. "Isamu is the hand. But the will? The one who began it all… still sleeps. And the deeper you go, the closer you get to him."
Rin stepped forward, heart racing. "Then what do I do?"
"Unlock your thread," Mikado said. "Restore what was lost. Only then will you remember who you were—and what you chose to give up."
He held out a key.
Not metal. Not physical.
It pulsed with light and memory, shaped like a violet in bloom.
Rin hesitated.
And took it.
Her body convulsed. Not from pain—but from clarity.
She saw herself in another life. Not as an apothecary, but as a guide. A binder of souls. She saw Kael beside her, not as an investigator, but a warrior who had once died to protect her from the very cycle they now stood in.
She saw Reika, standing against an army of shadows.
Elias, bleeding at the altar.
Mikado, kneeling before her, whispering a promise he never kept.
And finally—flames. Devouring a garden. Burning away the world.
Rin staggered back, gasping.
Kael caught her again, steady as always. "Rin—what did you see?"
She looked up at him, eyes glistening with the weight of lifetimes.
"I remembered."
Mikado nodded, rising from the bench. "Then it begins again."
The sky rumbled.
Storm clouds parted just enough to reveal something falling—like black snow, slow and silent.
Only it wasn't snow.
It was ash.
Kael drew his sword. "We have to move."
Mikado smiled, eyes gleaming. "The next gate has opened. Be ready. The next time you descend… you may not come back the same."
Rin turned to Kael, heart steady despite the storm.
"Let's finish what we started."
Together, they stepped into the falling ash.
And the garden began to burn.
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