They had walked into silence.
Not the kind that waits — the kind that watches.
The halls beneath Labyrinth Theta had become stranger with every step. The walls pulsed like living flesh now, and time moved like water. One soldier had vanished behind Serida, swallowed by a loop in the corridor. His scream hadn't come from his throat — it had echoed from the ceiling.
Ashbourne stayed close, sword drawn, eyes twitching at every flicker of light. Even Vexa, usually cocky and quick-witted, kept her mouth shut.
The closer they got to the Core, the thinner reality became.
And then, they saw her.
She stood in the center of a wide circular chamber, her back to them. White robes flowed down like liquid starlight, her silver-blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. A cloth covered her eyes, yet she turned the moment Serida stepped through.
As if she'd been waiting.
Ashbourne's breath caught. "Who—?"
The woman raised a hand.
"You don't know me," she said. "Not as you are."
Serida's hand hovered over her blade. "You're Cradle. You must be. Another mask."
"No," the woman replied calmly. "Not Cradle. I was here long before them."
Her voice was too familiar. Serida stiffened.
The woman removed her blindfold.
Underneath… no eyes.
Only glyphs.
Pale gold spirals spinning where pupils should be.
Vexa gasped and stumbled back.
The woman smiled.
> "I am the first Serida."
Silence crushed the room.
"No," Serida said, voice low. "That's not possible."
"It is. Because we are Echoes. And I am the original thread from which you were stitched."
Serida drew her blade fully now, stepping forward. "You expect me to believe that?"
"You already do," the Crown answered. "You just don't want to remember."
Images surged into Serida's mind unbidden — not of this life, but others. A ruined throne. A shattered pact. A battlefield littered with fire and ash. And a face — her own — crying over Kael's body.
She staggered.
Ashbourne caught her.
"Serida—?"
She looked up, rage blooming in her chest. "What is this?! Some Cradle trick? Some memory illusion?"
But the Crown stepped closer, barefoot across the smooth black stone, completely unafraid.
"I am not your enemy," she said softly. "Not anymore."
Vexa stared at her, then at Serida. "She looks just like you."
"I am her," the Crown said. "You and I are fragments of the same flame. But I was the one who wore the Crown when it mattered."
Serida forced herself upright. "Why are you here? What do you want?"
"I want to stop what's coming. What we tried to bury." Her eyes — or the glyphs in their place — pulsed gently. "You, Kael, and Lira — you were the lock. We were supposed to forget to keep the Core sealed."
"You made us forget," Serida accused.
"No. We made that choice together."
The Crown stepped toward the far end of the chamber, where a sealed gate — marked with the three spirals — pulsed slowly. The Crown reached out and placed her hand on it.
The glyphs brightened.
A soft hum filled the room.
Ashbourne and Vexa backed away instinctively.
"This is the gate to the Core," the Crown said. "Behind it is the creature we failed to destroy. A god built from memory. It was once a human mind — like Kael's. Like mine. But it fractured. It consumed other lives. And it became something else."
Serida stared at the gate. Her breath fogged. The temperature had dropped several degrees.
"You said it's waking," she whispered.
The Crown nodded. "Because all three of you are alive again. Awake. Remembering. That was the condition of its seal. The lock only activates when the Echoes are realigned. And now…"
She turned.
"…it wants you back."
Ashbourne looked between them. "Then we shut it down. Together."
"You can't shut it down," the Crown said. "You'd need power far beyond what even Echoes can hold. And if it's disrupted improperly… it won't collapse. It will unfold."
Serida approached the gate, her blade now sheathed. Her pulse thundered in her ears. "You said you're the first. Then tell me — why does the Cradle want us dead?"
The Crown's expression darkened. "Because they were never meant to exist. The Cradle wasn't supposed to grow. It was built to monitor the Core, to contain magic without memory. But over time, it began to believe it was the answer."
Serida's voice went cold. "They think they're saving the world."
"They think they're replacing it."
The glyphs on the gate pulsed stronger now. The Core could hear them. Feel them. Its dreams leaked into the stone — warped songs hummed in the dark. A voice with a thousand mouths whispered across the floor.
"Its prison is weakening," the Crown said. "And it wants Kael the most."
"Why?" Serida asked.
The answer came like a blade to the heart.
> "Because he created it.
Not the Cradle.
The Core."
The room fell into silence.
Serida stared at her old self. "Kael created… that?"
"In a forgotten life," the Crown confirmed. "He tried to save the world from magic. From Echoes. From us."
Ashbourne shook his head. "Then why does it want him now?"
The Crown's eyes flared.
"Because Kael was the only one it called 'Father.'"