The library burned in silver fire.
Not destruction.
Memory.
Scrolls unraveled. Words poured into Liss's veins. Her eyes glowed white. Her bones cracked—not from damage, but from restoration.
She remembered the cradle she never touched. The lullaby a goddess once whispered into her ears before smothering her.
She remembered the first sword she ever lifted—and the god who laughed and said she was cute.
She remembered her first death.
She hadn't died from battle.
She died from being too real.
And they killed her to keep balance.
"You weren't supposed to feel love," a god had said. "So we made sure you'd never learn how."
But she did.
Thessaly. Naia. Korrin. Elyse.
Her squad made her remember.
And now?
Liss Hoshino remembered everything.
The void inside her howled.
But she stood still.
And whispered:
"I am not your error. I am the correction."
Behind her, the star blinked again—closer.
A voice echoed:
"We are coming, Liss Hoshino.
The ones even gods forgot to forget."
Thessaly pulled her sword. Naia lit the air. Elyse whispered a prayer. Korrin opened a portal.
And Liss…
smiled.
"Then let them come."