The glyphs circling the fracture pulsed red, then white, then void-black.
Three colors.
Three truths.
Lyle stared upward, the Codex vibrating beside him with increasing frequency. It wasn't humming anymore—it was shivering, as if trying to decide whether to flee or fight.
Juno stepped beside him, sword drawn, her face pale in the cold light. "Tell me that's not a tether formation."
"It's worse," Lyle muttered. "It's a binding."
> [Codex Alert: Thread Event Accelerated]
Obsidian Gate Activation Imminent.
Memory Lock Convergence Estimated in 2 hours, 12 minutes.
Warning: All known anti-thread entities will converge on the activation point.
"Sounds like a party," Juno muttered.
Lyle didn't smile.
He couldn't.
The glyphs in the sky were beginning to rotate, not around the fracture—but toward it, like gear-teeth being pulled into a lock.
A key.
A gate.
A summoning.
He looked at Juno. "We need to get to the Gate before it finishes binding."
"What's there?" she asked.
He hesitated.
"Answers."
"And?"
He swallowed. "A trap."
---
The journey to the Obsidian Gate wasn't one of distance—it was of memory.
The Codex unfolded a path in the terrain ahead, but the land twisted as they moved, reshaping itself around Lyle's thoughts.
The rocks became benches from his childhood.
The trees grew thorns shaped like Asera's glyphs.
A pool they passed reflected the academy's dueling arena—even though they were dozens of miles away.
> [Codex Path Alignment: Psychological Terrain Detected]
Cause: Thread Echo Feedback Loop.
Note: The stronger the Codex-bearer's memory, the more malleable the environment.
Juno eyed a shifting boulder that now resembled a half-formed version of her childhood home.
"This is like being stuck in a nightmare written by someone who knows too much about me."
Lyle didn't respond.
Because the land was responding to him more.
Too much more.
---
They reached the edge of a shallow basin by midcycle—where the fractured sun hung overhead like a watchful eye. The basin held no water now. Just dust and glyph-ash. At its center, black spires rose from the ground in concentric circles, each one etched with runes from a forgotten alphabet.
And at the middle?
A single door.
Ten feet tall. Shimmering obsidian. No hinges. No keyhole. No seams.
Just a faint glow pulsing in its center like a slow heartbeat.
The Obsidian Gate.
---
Juno's fingers twitched. "So. What now?"
Lyle stepped forward slowly, Codex humming beside him.
"It's supposed to open only to one who carries a Thread Name and a Forbidden Memory."
She looked at him. "You've got both."
"Yeah," he muttered. "Lucky me."
He placed his palm against the surface.
It didn't budge.
Instead, a searing heat poured through him—burning, but not flesh. It was targeting something deeper.
> [Codex Anchor Verified – Partial Match]
Memory Thread Incomplete. Soulmark Sync Required.
Secondary Input Required: Bloodline Memory.
Juno stepped forward. "Use mine."
"What?"
She reached into her cloak, pulled out a blade, and sliced her palm open. "We've shared enough battles. You think I haven't left a memory echo on you?"
She pressed her bleeding hand beside his on the Gate.
The light flared—red and gold, mixing, intertwining.
The Gate shuddered.
And slowly, it began to open.
---
The inside was not a chamber.
It was a veil.
Not quite light. Not quite shadow. More like mist with intent.
Lyle stepped through first, the Codex shielding him instinctively.
Juno followed, eyes narrowed.
They emerged into something resembling a cathedral—ruined and upside down. The floor arched above them. The ceiling was beneath their feet. Pillars floated sideways. Stained glass shattered and suspended midair.
At the far end of the impossible room?
A figure.
One kneeling.
Bound in threads of light.
---
It took Lyle a full minute to recognize her.
Even Juno gasped.
"Asera…?"
The woman looked up—her face thinner, her eyes wild, her robes tattered and marked by the same crimson runes Valen had carried.
She wasn't fully here.
Half her body glitched, like a corrupted memory.
But she smiled.
"Lyle."
His breath caught. "How—"
"You brought the Codex," she whispered. "Good. It's almost time."
Juno stepped forward, hand on her hilt. "You're supposed to be—"
"Gone," Asera interrupted. "I was."
She looked at Lyle.
"But he's rewriting the threads. He's waking the erased."
Lyle took another step. "Valen."
Asera nodded.
"I fought him once," she said. "Before the Codex chose me. Before I became its first gatekeeper."
"Why is he waking now?"
"Because you've remembered too much," she said. "Because your path is no longer bound by a single system."
She leaned forward, chains straining.
"You're becoming what we failed to be."
---
The Codex shivered again.
> [Warning: Echo Contamination Risk High.]
Recommendation: End Contact.
Thread Instability 63% – Critical Phase Approaching.
Juno pulled Lyle back. "She's infected."
"No," he said quietly. "She's been cursed."
Asera nodded, smiling faintly. "The Codex won't help you past this point."
Then she whispered something only he could hear:
> "But the Ring might."
His eyes widened.
"You don't mean—"
But before he could finish, the cathedral shook violently.
The fracture above the basin began to bleed light—
And a new presence arrived.
Not Valen.
Not a creature.
Not an echo.
But someone they thought had died in the first system war.
Juno's blade shot up.
Her lips parted.
"…Talin?"
The man who stepped through the Gate was wrapped in gold-threaded armor.
Eyes blank.
Voice hollow.
But face unmistakable.
Juno's brother.