Kaien fell—this time not into snow or dreams, but into war.
The ground struck him hard. His palms scraped against rubble. All around, fires burned in the ruins of a once-great city. The sky was dark, lit only by flickering embers and flashes of violet lightning from distant storms. Statues lay shattered. Great iron gates, once majestic, were twisted and rusted. The wind carried whispers of songs long silenced.
Kaien stood slowly. His breath hitched.
This place felt… haunted. But not by ghosts—by failure.
A broken banner flapped in the wind. Emblazoned on it was a crest: a sword wrapped in ivy.
He took a cautious step forward.
Then another.
The voice came without warning.
"Another scavenger? Or do you actually believe in the legends?"
Kaien spun.
A man stood in the ruins. His armor was cracked and rusted. A long scar ran down one side of his face, and his eyes glowed faintly with pale blue fire. He held a spear that shimmered with ethereal energy, even though the wood looked half-rotted.
"I'm not a scavenger," Kaien said. "I'm looking for someone."
The man tilted his head. "A girl?"
Kaien's heart raced. "You've seen her?"
"She came through here," the man said slowly. "She called herself Lyra. Said she was looking for a key."
Kaien's fists clenched. "She found it?"
The man chuckled darkly. "Nobody finds anything here. Not without a cost."
---
The man's name was Iveren, once a captain of the Guard of Light, back when this world was called Elyrian—before the collapse.
He led Kaien through the ruins, past empty halls, overgrown temples, and torn paintings of heroes with golden armor and eyes full of hope.
"Long ago, this world was the birthplace of legends," Iveren explained. "But when the gods fell silent, the people lost their purpose. Heroes became tyrants. Kings fell to greed. The last Queen sealed the Vault and vanished."
Kaien furrowed his brow. "The Vault?"
"It holds the second key," Iveren said grimly. "The Key of Purpose. Lyra went looking for it. She made it further than most."
Kaien's chest tightened. "What happened to her?"
"She reached the Hall of Echoes," Iveren said. "But she didn't open the Vault. She left behind a message."
He led Kaien to a cathedral crumbled by time. Inside, behind the altar, a shard of crystal glowed faintly. Kaien touched it—and Lyra's voice echoed once again.
"Kaien... if you reach this world, I'm sorry. I thought I could do it alone. But the Vault… it knows your doubts. It feeds on them. I wasn't ready. Maybe you will be."
Kaien clenched his jaw.
She had tried. She'd made it to the edge.
And turned back.
"I'm going," Kaien said quietly.
Iveren narrowed his eyes. "You sure?"
"I have to be."
---
The Hall of Echoes was buried beneath the ruins of the royal palace.
Kaien passed through a gauntlet of shadows—wraiths that whispered doubts in his ear:
"She's gone."
"You were always the weaker one."
"She left you behind for a reason."
"You'll fail her again."
He gritted his teeth. "Shut. Up."
With each step, the whispers grew louder. The hall twisted into memories—Lyra running ahead of him as children, Lyra crying during their parents' funeral, Lyra screaming at him the night before she disappeared.
"You don't understand!" she had shouted.
"I do, Lyra. I just don't know how to help you!"
In the center of the hall stood a door.
It had no lock. Only an inscription:
"Purpose is not found. It is chosen."
Kaien placed his hand on the surface.
The world turned white.
---
He stood on a battlefield.
Thousands of fallen soldiers surrounded him—some with wings, some with horns, some wearing armor unlike any he'd seen.
A throne loomed in the distance. Lyra stood in front of it, holding a sword made of fire and shadow. She looked older—stronger—but broken.
"Kaien," she said, voice distant. "I couldn't do it."
He moved toward her. "Then let me."
The battlefield trembled. A monstrous figure rose from the throne—a creature made of stone and memory, its face a hundred different fears.
"Show me your purpose," it roared.
Kaien's legs trembled.
But he stepped forward anyway.
He thought of every world he'd crossed. The snow. The dreams. The laughter they once shared. Her voice in the crystal. The way she always kept moving forward—until she couldn't.
"My purpose," he said, "is to carry hers when she can't."
He drew a blade—not of metal, but of light.
And he charged.
---
The fight was brutal. The creature struck with the weight of despair, every blow meant to bury him in self-doubt.
But Kaien didn't stop.
He slashed. Blocked. Fell. Stood again.
Not because he was stronger.
But because she had once stood here—alone.
And he refused to let that happen again.
With a final cry, he drove the blade into the creature's core.
Light exploded.
The battlefield shattered.
He stood once more in the hall, the door gone. In its place—a pedestal.
And on it: a key.
Not gold. Not jeweled.
Just a small stone, warm to the touch.
It pulsed with quiet strength.
The second key.
---
Outside, Iveren waited.
Kaien handed him the crystal Lyra had left.
"Tell others," he said. "Tell them legends can rise again."
Iveren looked at him, something like pride in his eyes. "You'll find her."
Kaien nodded. "I have to."
Another portal opened.
Kaien stepped through, feeling the weight of purpose—his and hers—guiding him onward.