The wind in Tokyo was different that night.
It carried a weight—not of the city's bustle, but of something older. Ancient. Aki felt it in the air, in the quiet hush between each step as he and Hoshikiri walked toward the hidden shrine beneath the streets. They weren't alone, though no one followed.
"I hear them," Aki whispered.
Hoshikiri nodded. "They're speaking again."
The whispers were faint, not in any known language, but resonating in Aki's bones like forgotten lullabies. They came from the Veil—an invisible boundary between the mortal world and the hidden truths beyond.
The shrine gate appeared before them, hidden beneath a railway tunnel. Covered in moss and moonlight, it shimmered when Aki stepped closer.
"This is the Threshold of Forgotten Names," Hoshikiri said. "Once you pass, even time may not remember you as you were."
Aki hesitated. "Will I still be me?"
She looked at him sadly. "You will be more."
As he stepped through the gate, the world shifted again.
Not violently—gently, like a dream folding into itself.
He stood in a void of silver mist, surrounded by broken pieces of stars and floating memories. Voices called out—echoes of those who had once walked the same path, Star Maidens and Chosen before him.
Then, from the mist, emerged a figure cloaked in flowing white robes—blindfolded, silent.
The Guardian of the Veil.
It extended its hand, and in it was a scroll—sealed with the symbol of the Celestial Thread.
Aki reached for it.
The moment his fingers touched the seal, images rushed into his mind—visions of the first prophecy, the broken cycle, and the moment the gods rewrote destiny to protect themselves.
His breath caught.
The gods hadn't just chosen him. They had tried to erase others who came before him.
And now… he was the last chance.
The Guardian vanished.
He opened his eyes, back in the mortal world. The scroll remained in his hand.
"I know now," he whispered.
Hoshikiri looked up, startled by the change in his voice. "What did you see?"
"That the path I walk," he said, "was walked by others… who never returned."
He looked at the scroll.
"But I will."
Above them, the stars aligned—just slightly off the pattern they had always followed.
A sign.
The veil had whispered its truth.