Dawn crept slowly over the jagged horizon.
The first rays of light struggled through the mist clinging to the base of the Black Spire, casting long shadows over the stone ruins below. Eren stood at the edge of the crater, staring down at what remained of the Mirror Hall.
Time had not been kind to it. Most of the pillars lay broken, scattered like the ribs of a fallen titan. The ground was fractured, and ivy had claimed much of the stone. But at its heart stood something untouched a wide, circular platform of dark glass, half-sunken into the earth. It shimmered faintly, even in shadow.
Elira joined him, tightening the straps on her satchel. "It still lives."
"What is it exactly?" Eren asked.
"A construct of memory. The Veyari Seers built it long ago, when the first bearer fell. They believed that a piece of truth if bound in reflection could outlast lies, even time."
Eren turned his gaze back to the dark glass. "And what will I see?"
Elira's voice was softer now. "What the sword remembers. What you carry."
They descended the rocky slope together, picking their way through rubble and roots until they stood before the platform. Eren stepped onto the glass slowly. It didn't creak. Didn't shift. Instead, it seemed to hum beneath his boots, reacting to his presence like still water touched by wind.
Elira remained at the edge.
"This is your step to take," she said.
He nodded, unsheathing Akreth and placing it across the center of the platform.
Nothing happened at first.
Then the runes along the blade flared and the glass beneath Eren's feet lit up with a slow ripple of pale gold. The mist around them was pulled inward, sucked into the circle, and then
The world changed.
The platform vanished beneath him. The ruins disappeared. Eren blinked
and found himself in a throne room made of obsidian and bone.
He stood alone. Torchlight flickered against carved walls, each relief depicting scenes of war and sorrow. Blood ran in channels across the floor. At the far end of the room sat a figure cloaked in black, crowned in flame.
The first bearer.
Eren felt it instantly. Not just power but origin. This man had drawn the first breath of the flame into this world. His aura crackled with it, dark and divine.
The man lifted his gaze. His face was not hidden but it was wrong.
Eren saw his own features there.
Older. Harder. Eyes like burning coals.
"You seek to understand," the bearer said.
Eren tried to speak, but his voice was swallowed by the echoing chamber.
The bearer rose from the throne. The sword in his hand Akreth as it once was burned like a wound in reality.
"I did not seek power," he said. "Only salvation."
He walked forward, each step shaking the chamber.
"I opened the Threshold to save her. She was dying, and I "
He faltered. His expression flickered.
"I tore open the veil and pulled the fire through. But it asked for blood. A soul for a soul."
Eren's heart pounded.
"You chose to pay it," he whispered.
The bearer nodded.
"I chose wrong."
Suddenly the scene shifted.
The throne room collapsed into a battlefield. The sky was fire. The world screamed. Eren watched the first bearer fall to his knees in a sea of corpses his blade sunk into the heart of the one he'd sworn to save. Her eyes wide, not with betrayal but with sorrow.
Then came the voice not his, not the bearer's but the flame itself.
"You cannot change what you are becoming."
Eren staggered back.
"You are the echo. You are the inheritance. You are the one who will end it or begin again."
The scene fractured. Light cracked across the sky. The platform beneath him returned, and he collapsed onto it with a gasp.
Elira was already beside him.
He blinked up at her. "I saw him. The first. He looked like me."
She nodded slowly. "Every bearer sees a part of themselves in the Hall."
"No," he said. "This wasn't symbolism. This was truth. I don't think I'm just a successor. I think I'm a cycle."
Elira's expression froze.
"The Threshold," he continued. "It doesn't just bind power. It remembers everything it touches. And it repeats. It waits for someone who'll make the same mistake again."
"And you think you're him reborn?"
He stood, picking up the blade.
"I don't know. But if I am, then I know how this ends."
The sword pulsed, once.
Eren looked to the sky.
The mist was clearing.
But far beyond the mountains, he saw smoke.
War was coming.
And this time, he wouldn't run from it.