The wind howled as the Spire loomed above them, a black needle carved from obsidian and ancient will. Lightning danced across the cracked sky, and the world seemed to hold its breath.
Sera's boots crunched against glassstone as she led the way, Akira and Ayaka close behind. None of them spoke for a while—not after what they had seen in the Echo Gardens. Their reflections still clung to their minds like smoke.
But as they reached the bridge of mirrored steps—the final path before the Spire—Ayaka spoke.
"I suppose I owe you both a truth."
Akira slowed his pace, glancing back. Sera didn't stop walking, but her fists clenched at her sides.
"You've already told us plenty," she muttered.
"Not this," Ayaka said. Her voice lacked its usual weight. "Not this part."
The steps beneath them shimmered, reflecting not their faces—but the past. Glimpses of battles, wings torn in the sky, the day the Queen fell—burning as light pierced her back.
"Sera," Ayaka said, more gently now. "The glyph that sealed Queen Fresha… it wasn't written by the Celestial Court alone."
Sera froze.
Ayaka's voice was steady. "It was co-written by your father."
Sera turned slowly. Her eyes, once brimming with fire, now held a storm.
"You're lying."
"No." Ayaka took a breath. "He was human. A linguist. A master of root-glyph structure. The Court recruited him secretly. He knew what would happen if the Queen went any further. What Justin might become."
Akira stepped forward. "Wait. Sera's father helped seal Fresha? Then—he betrayed her?"
Ayaka shook her head. "That's the question, isn't it? From the Court's view, yes. But from his? He believed he was saving her—from herself, from the madness taking hold. And from the war Justin was pushing for."
Sera's voice trembled. "My mother died screaming. You're telling me he helped that happen?"
"No," Ayaka said softly. "She died chained to a glyph built with love."
The bridge trembled.
Sera's breath hitched. "You knew him?"
Ayaka looked down. "He taught at the Hall of Glyphs in Halastra. He loved stargazing. Carved every constellation into the stone for your nursery. He only agreed to help the Court if they spared you and your sister."
Sera staggered back. "You're lying. My mother said he left. That he was weak."
"Maybe," Ayaka said. "Or maybe she was protecting you from knowing he chose you over her."
The mirrored steps flickered.
---
Suddenly, they weren't standing on the bridge anymore.
A memory unfolded beneath their feet.
The Celestial Atrium. A thousand years ago.
Queen Fresha stood atop a staircase of glyphlight, her robes woven with stardust. Her face was younger, but her eyes already burdened by centuries.
Across from her knelt Justin—prince of the dawn, child of her line.
"Please," Justin whispered. "Don't do this. You don't have to fall to their design."
"I've seen the future," Fresha said, cold and distant. "The Court will never allow the world I want."
"Then fight with me!" Justin cried. "Choose me. Let me be your shield. I'll destroy anyone who threatens you."
She stepped down.
And knelt in front of him.
"I cannot choose you, Justin."
He went still.
"Why not?" he whispered.
She reached out, touched his cheek.
"Because my heart belongs to another."
And the vision shattered.
---
Back on the bridge, Akira watched as Sera fell to her knees.
"That was real," she said.
Ayaka nodded.
"That was him, wasn't it? The human my mother chose?"
Ayaka crouched beside her. "He wasn't a warrior. He was fragile, brilliant, terrified. But he saw what power was doing to her. He begged her to leave it behind."
Sera stared at the steps. "And she didn't."
"No. But she gave him two daughters. And he gave her a way out."
Akira looked away. "And Justin… he was left behind."
Ayaka stood again. "Justin never turned evil. He was just never chosen."
---
Lightning cracked above the Spire.
Sera rose slowly, her jaw tight. "Then why did you hide this from me?"
"Because you weren't ready," Ayaka said. "Because you worshipped your mother like a star—and I didn't want to be the one to tell you she bled like the rest of us."
Sera turned toward the tower. "You should've told me sooner."
"I know," Ayaka said.
Akira placed a hand on Sera's shoulder. "What do you want to do now?"
Sera's voice was quiet.
"We finish what they started. We end this, our way."
---
They reached the Spire gates just as the clouds above broke open—raining light and shadow together.
Kurumi was waiting.
She stood at the entrance, her glyphband glowing faintly pink, one arm wrapped tightly in a new glyphbind. Justin stood behind her, leaning on a cane now. His body was thinner, his eyes more distant—but still alive.
When Kurumi saw Sera, something passed between them. Not rivalry. Not blame.
Just understanding.
"I heard what you learned," Kurumi said softly. "About your father."
Sera gave a short nod. "And I heard what you did."
Kurumi looked at Justin, then back at her. "We're all children of this broken story. Might as well write a better ending."
Ayaka smiled grimly. "Then let's go find the Queen."
The gates of the Spire opened with a hiss.
And the future walked inside.
---
To be continued.