Snow fell quietly across the broken city of Caldris, covering the scorch marks, the shattered glyph towers, and the ash left by the Reaver's wake. The battle was over, but the silence that followed did not feel victorious. It felt hollow.
The Seven regrouped near the old library ruins — a place spared only by neglect. Glyphs still shimmered faintly across the cracked floor, flickering now and then, like dying stars. They didn't speak at first. Not because there was nothing to say — but because none of them knew how to begin.
Frank stood at the edge of the steps, arms folded, staring at the red-glowing crack still burning in the sky. The mark of something new. Something worse. The black symbol that appeared above them still hadn't faded.
Kitty sat near a broken pillar, her golden pendant dull for the first time since it had awakened. She had tied a small bandage around Susan's arm, where the cracked glyph had torn through skin during the last strike. Susan didn't flinch — she only stared into her open hand, as if waiting to feel something that wasn't there anymore.
Lucy sat alone. Quiet. Still. Her eyes were fixed on nothing, yet they saw everything. She hadn't said a word since the voice.
Peter paced back and forth, still scuffed and bruised from his battle with Tom. His fists were clenched, but his voice was soft. "That wasn't Kazakare. That was… something else. It was watching us the whole time, wasn't it?"
Jack sat nearby, his back to a tree growing sideways from the cracked earth. "I saw the glyph. In the tunnels. It didn't belong. It wasn't made with light or flame or blood. It was drawn in silence." He looked down at the ground. "I think it was already here. Long before we were."
No one spoke. A gust of wind passed over them, carrying flakes of snow that didn't melt.
Tom finally stood. He had been sitting with his head down for nearly an hour, his hands covered in dried blood and black glyph soot. When he looked up, his eyes weren't angry — just tired.
"I've seen that symbol before," he said.
Everyone turned toward him.
"Not clearly," Tom continued. "But in dreams. Nightmares. Memories I thought were just fragments. I never told anyone. I thought they were just shadows left over from… from my village."
Kitty looked up. "The one that burned?"
Tom nodded slowly. His voice dropped. "It wasn't a wildfire. I didn't lose control. Not completely." He looked down at his hands. "I was ten. Just ten. I had learned the basics of Palecto. I was being trained by a master — a wandering glyph knight. He never told me where he came from. He just showed up in the mountains one day and said I had 'fire in my soul.' He called himself Kazakare."
Lucy blinked. "Wait… Kazakare trained you?"
Tom gave a bitter smile. "The first Kazakare. The man. Not the monster. Back then, he was a guardian. A protector. He taught me how to feel the fire, not just wield it. He said that true power wasn't control — it was choice."
Frank stepped closer. "What happened?"
"One day… he vanished," Tom said, eyes distant. "Just left without a word. A week later, strange things began happening in the village. Animals going silent. People forgetting their own names. And then the whispers started. No one knew where they came from, but they all said the same thing: 'Even flame forgets itself.'"
He took a shaky breath. "Then I lost it. I panicked. Tried to protect the village. I poured every ounce of Palecto into a barrier. But I wasn't strong enough. I was scared. My fire turned inward. It didn't burn the enemies — it burned the town."
Kitty quietly reached for his hand, but he pulled away.
"I've never forgiven myself," he whispered. "Not even after all this time."
Susan's voice came gently. "Tom… we all thought you just lost control. That it was an accident."
"It wasn't just fire that killed them," Tom said. "It was something else. Something that pushed my glyph too far. That fed it."
Lucy's eyes narrowed. "Something?"
Tom nodded. "The same feeling I had at the end of today's battle. That we were being watched. Like we were just… pieces. Puppets. Set up to fall apart."
Frank glanced around at the others. "Maybe we were."
Silence again. A painful one. The kind that comes when there are no excuses left.
"I still remember their faces," Tom said softly. "My sister, Mira. She used to braid flowers into my hair and call me 'matchstick.' She was the last one I saw before the fire spread. She didn't scream. She just said, 'I'm not scared of the light.'"
Kitty closed her eyes. Her lips trembled.
"We've all lost something," Jack said. "But what if that's what she wanted? Whoever this Alexa is… what if she didn't just want war? What if she wanted to shape us through it? Make us break?"
Lucy finally spoke. Her voice was low, cold, but shaking. "That voice… I've heard it too. Every time I closed my eyes, it was there. In every forgotten dream. Every missed second." She looked up. "What if we never had a choice?"
Frank shook his head. "No. We did. We do. Even if someone's watching us, pushing us… they haven't won yet."
Peter looked over. "Haven't they? Marcus is dead. Cities are gone. The sky's falling apart. And we're sitting here trying to remember how it used to feel before the war began."
Tom raised his head. "Then maybe that's exactly what we need to do. Remember."
Everyone looked at him.
"If we're going to fight what's coming," he said, "we have to remember who we were before all this. Not just what we've lost — but what we still have."
Kitty stood and nodded. "We still have each other."
A quiet truth passed through the group.
They sat together in the snow, saying nothing more for a long time. But in that silence, something began to shift. Not the sky. Not the glyphs. Something within.
Because even as shadows grew longer and the world fell further from what it had once been… they still remembered.
And memory was the one thing that Alexa hadn't stolen yet
Lucy remained silent long after the others had calmed. Her hands rested on her knees, fingers trembling slightly, eyes locked on the crackling glyph lines that circled the ruins. She wasn't staring at the ruins, not really. She was watching something else—something deep within.
Kitty was the first to notice.
"You okay?" she asked gently, walking over and sitting beside her.
Lucy didn't answer.
Kitty placed a hand lightly on Lucy's shoulder. "You've been quiet. Even for you."
"I don't feel right," Lucy murmured, finally breaking her silence. "Ever since Caldris… it's like something is fraying inside me. My glyph—my sense of time—it's stuttering."
Kitty's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know if it's real," Lucy said, her voice hollow. "I keep remembering things that never happened. Seeing moments that… I'm not sure I ever lived. It's like my memory is folding over itself, over and over again."
Frank stepped closer, having overheard. "Could it be residual trauma? Time glyphs are sensitive—maybe the void presence corrupted it."
Lucy shook her head slowly. "No. This is different. These memories… they feel too real."
"Like what?" Jack asked, joining them. The rest gathered around again, drawn by the shift in Lucy's tone.
She hesitated, then said, "There's a memory of me standing at the edge of a cliff, holding something small and glowing… and hearing a voice behind me say, 'It's not your time yet, Alexa.'"
Everyone froze.
Tom blinked. "Wait. What?"
Lucy looked startled too. "I don't know why I said that name. It just… came to me."
Peter whispered, "But that's her name. The whisper. The one from Caldris. The one Neolin feared."
Kitty backed up half a step, glancing at Lucy. "You're not saying—"
"I'm not saying anything," Lucy snapped suddenly, then caught herself. Her tone softened. "I don't know what's happening to me. But I swear, I don't feel like I'm entirely me anymore."
Silence fell again, heavier this time. Not because they didn't trust her, but because they didn't know what to say.
Susan took a step forward. "Whatever's happening, we're with you. All of us. Even if something's inside… we'll fight it. Together."
Lucy didn't respond right away. She closed her eyes, breathing carefully. Then finally, she nodded once.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
"We all are," Tom said gently.
"I'm scared that I'm not who I think I am."
Kitty reached over and hugged her. Lucy didn't resist.
Just then, a pulse ran through the ground. Soft. Faint. But present. It was like a heartbeat in the earth beneath them. Everyone stood alert. Kitty's wings shimmered slightly, even though she hadn't summoned them.
"What was that?" Susan asked.
Kitty looked down at her pendant, now glowing with a strange pale light. "I didn't activate anything."
The pulse came again.
And then another.
"Something's awakening," Frank muttered.
"No," Lucy said softly. "Something's remembering."
At that moment, Neolin's voice cracked through the glyph relay. It sounded strained, sharp, like he'd been running. "Kids, return to Odessyus. Now."
"Why?" Frank asked.
No answer. Just static.
Tom tried again. "Neolin, what happened?!"
Finally, Neolin's voice returned—but it was quiet. Dead quiet. "Something's breached the Elysian Vault. I don't know how. It wasn't Kazakare."
Frank's eyes widened. "Then what—"
"I don't know yet," Neolin said. "But we found something carved into the wall inside. Old writing. Burned into the stone. A name."
Jack's voice was barely a whisper. "Let me guess."
Neolin exhaled. "Alexa."
Kitty's wings suddenly burst open in a ripple of wind and golden energy, even though she hadn't moved. She screamed, dropping to one knee, gripping her pendant.
Everyone ran to her.
"What's happening?" Peter shouted.
Kitty looked up, her eyes wide and wet with tears. "I saw something. A memory. But not mine."
Tom knelt beside her. "What did you see?"
Kitty's voice cracked. "Lucy… standing alone in a ruined world. The others… gone. She was different. She turned to me and said, 'Thank you for bringing me this far.' Then… she burned everything."
The group turned toward Lucy in horror, but she was already on her feet, backing away.
"No… no, that wasn't me," Lucy said, shaking her head. "That wasn't me."
Frank stepped forward, unsure whether to comfort her or question her.
Lucy looked around at all of them—at the fear in their eyes. The distance. The doubt. And in that moment, her expression changed. Not dark. Not angry. Just… hollow.
"I think I need time," she whispered.
"We'll figure it out," Susan said firmly.
But Lucy was already walking away, deeper into the broken city. She didn't run. She didn't disappear. She just walked.
Tom made a move to follow, but Frank held him back. "Let her go. For now."
Jack looked around at the others. "Are we ready to lose another one?"
"No," Peter said. "We're not losing anyone. Not now. Not ever."
Kitty stood slowly, still shaken. "We'll get her back. We have to."
Tom nodded. "We will. We have to believe that."
And as the snow began to fall again, light dancing softly on the shattered stone, the Seven stood together. A little more broken. A little more uncertain. But still together.
Because even in a world losing its truth, even in a story that seemed destined to twist, one thing remained.
They remembered who they were.
And that meant Alexa hadn't won.
Not yet.