The screens of Rahmori were burning.

From the holographic billboards in Tsujan to the cracked data-slates in the slums of Rhubiti, the face of Heir Valode was everywhere. It was a pristine, royal portrait—calm, golden, perfect.

Beneath it, the text scrolled in urgent red:

ALERT: HEIR ABDUCTED. TARGETS: Liorovaj Romar (Rogue Element), Subject Wren (Unstable/Lethal), Unidentified Accomplices. BOUNTY: 10,000 Rahmi. Alive or Stasis.

The Council wasn't admitting a rebellion. They were selling a kidnapping.

In the depths of Khijan, Romar shoved a heavy crate of supplies toward the hangar bay doors.

"They're spinning it," Romar grunted, checking his datapad. "According to the news, I'm a terrorist mastermind who brainwashed you."

"They have to," Val said, adjusting the heavy flight coat Romar had given them. "If they admit I left willingly, the Harmony breaks. The people will question the Matari system."

"Let them question," Wren whispered. She was sitting on a fuel canister, staring at her hands. She looked terrified to touch anything, afraid she might melt it.

Ouhan stood by the keypad of the hangar door. "We have company on the sensors. High Guard signatures. They are burning through the outer lock."

"Then we need to fly," Romar said. He slammed his hand onto a biometric scanner. "Open up, old girl."

The blast doors groaned and slid open.

Val gasped.

The ship sitting in the center of the bay wasn't like the sleek, white metal ships of the Council. It looked like a piece of jewelry.

The Kjisugi (Sun Dragon) was built almost entirely of reinforced, polarized glass. Its hull was transparent, revealing the intricate clockwork and gold wiring inside. Massive solar sails, folded like bat wings, lay along its spine.

"It's... see-through," Saje noted, sounding dubious.

"It's light-adaptive," Romar corrected, running up the ramp. "In the sky, it reflects the atmosphere. It’s invisible to the eye and the radar. Get in!"

HISSS.

The hangar doors behind them didn't explode. They simply dissolved.

A concentrated frequency of sound vibrated the metal until it turned to dust. Through the breach stepped a squad of High Guards in full tactical armor.

But the figure leading them wasn't wearing a helmet.

She stood tall, her dark hair pulled back in a severe military braid. Her face was a mask of cold, professional fury, but her eyes—her golden eyes—were wide with panic as they locked onto Val.

"Secure the perimeter!" Gwen barked at her squad. "Lethal force authorized for the kidnappers. The Heir is to be unharmed!"

"Gwen!" Val shouted, stepping away from the ramp.

"Valode, get away from them!" Gwen screamed, raising her kinetic rifle. She aimed it squarely at Romar's chest. "Step away from the terrorist! I am taking you home."

"Home?" Val laughed, a broken, angry sound. "To what? The palace? The lies?"

Val walked down the ramp, ignoring Romar's shout to stop. They stopped ten feet from their sister.

"I know, Gwen," Val said, their voice shaking. "I know about the seals. I know about the 22 years. I know you’ve been scrubbing my mind every time I get too close to the truth."

Gwen froze, mortified. The rifle wavered slightly. "I... I did it to protect you, Val. Selu would have—"

"Selu is broken!" Val yelled. "And you helped him break me! You stole my life, Gwen. You stole my memories of the water. You stole me."

Gwen looked shattered. For a moment, the soldier vanished, leaving only the terrified sister. "Val, please. You don't understand what they'll do to you if you run. They'll dissect you. I can't... I can't lose you."

"Target acquired," a robotic voice spoke from behind Gwen.

One of the High Guards—a Vajrid specialist—raised a heavy thermal cannon. He wasn't aiming at Romar. He was aiming at Wren, who was frozen on the ramp.

"Asset 'Wren' identified. Lethal protocol engaged."

"Belay that order!" Gwen shouted, spinning around. "I said secure!"

"Vaelor's orders override, Commander," the Guard droned. "Neutralize the bomb."

The Guard fired.

A lance of concentrated plasma—white-hot fire—screamed across the hangar.

"NO!" Gwen lunged, but she was too far away.

Val moved.

Val threw themself between the fire and Wren, raising a hand.

Water, Val thought desperately. I need water. I need cold.

But Val’s mind didn't go to the river. It went to the shadow in the garden. It went to the touch of Ouhan’s hand on their forehead. The feeling of the cold of shadow, consuming all light; that's where their mind went.

Val didn't push out. They pulled in.

The Void.

The air in front of Val didn't mist or freeze. It simply... stopped. A circle of absolute darkness, no larger than a dinner plate, appeared in front of Val’s palm.

The plasma lance hit the black circle—and ceased to exist.

There was no steam. No explosion. Just a quiet thwip sound, like a candle being snuffed out in a vacuum.

The temperature in the hangar dropped thirty degrees in a micro-echo. Frost instantly coated the floor, the walls, and the armor of the Guards.

The Guards froze, their weapons lowering in confusion.

Val stood there, hand raised, staring at the empty space where the fire had been. Their hand felt cold—so cold it burned.

Gwen stared at Val. She saw the black circle fade. She saw the impossible power. And she realized, with a soldier's clarity, that the Council would never let Val live after seeing that.

The Vajrid Guard racked his thermal cannon for a second shot. "Re-engaging target."

Crack.

Gwen moved swiftly, a blur of motion. In one fluid arc, she reversed her rifle and slammed the stock into the Guard’s helmet, shattering the visor. He dropped like a stone.

She spun, firing two stun rounds into the chests of the other two guards before they could react.

"Gwen?" Val breathed.

Gwen looked at Val. Her eyes were filled with tears, but her jaw was set.

"Go," Gwen ordered, shoving Val toward the ramp. "Get on the ship!"

"Come with us!" Val grabbed her arm. "You can't go back now. They'll execute you for treason!"

Gwen looked at the fallen guards, then back at Val. She looked at the Kjisugi prepping for launch.

"I promised Mother," Gwen whispered, more to herself than Val. "I promised I'd keep you safe."

She grabbed Val’s hand and ran up the ramp.

"Romar, fly!" Val screamed.

"Welcome aboard, Commander!" Ouhan yelled, slamming the airlock seal. "Try not to shoot me!"

"Ouhan, deploy the sails!"

"Deploying," Ouhan’s voice resonated through the ship.

Outside, the massive glass wings unfolded. They caught the blinding light of the twin High Arc suns filtering through the hangar roof skylights.

"Engaging Reflective Drive," Romar announced.

The ship didn't just lift; it vanished. To the sensors of the incoming reinforcements, the Kjisugi simply disappeared into the glare of the High Eleven suns.

The ship shot upward, blasting through the hangar roof doors and into the blinding white sky of Rahmori.

Time: 11 // 54 Flare (The Peak) Location: Above the Cloud Layer / Heading South (Hipe)

The cabin was silent, save for the hum of the solar sails. Val looked out into the sky. From up here, the suns' eyes glared back to Val as they began their venture home.

Val sat in the co-pilot seat, staring at their hands. They were still trembling from the cold that wasn't cold.

They'd been flying for an Ark. Making their way through the Flare of the High Arc. The Fade was much easier on them. 11 // 54 Flare flipped to 11 // 11 Fade—the second half of the High Arc, the top of the Arc.

In the back, Gwen sat across from Saje. She had removed her armor plating, looking smaller in her undersuit. She watched Val with a hawk-like intensity.

Gwen glanced at the time herself; a pulse had passed. "You should sleep," Gwen said softly. "It's already 11 // 01 now." Her voice wasn't the bark of a Commander anymore. It was the voice Val remembered from childhood.

"I can't," Val whispered. "My head... it's loud."

"I know," Gwen said. She stood up and walked over to Val.

Saje tensed, reaching for his trowel, but Val shook their head. "It's okay, Saje."

Gwen knelt beside Val’s chair. She placed her cool hands on Val’s temples.

"I can't take it away, Val," Gwen whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I can't undo what I did. But... I can unlock the door I built."

"Will it hurt?" Val asked, leaning into the touch despite the anger still simmering in their chest.

"Yes," Gwen admitted. "Truth always hurts."

She closed her eyes. A soft, white light pulsed from her palms.

"Sleep, Yihen," Gwen whispered. "And remember."

Val’s eyes grew heavy. The tension in their shoulders dissolved. But as the darkness took them, the silence didn't come.

Instead, the flood came.

It wasn't a stream; it was a dam breaking. The movie of their life began to play, but it was spinning in reverse, faster and faster.

Flash. The hangar. The void circle. Gwen’s rifle stock cracking a visor. Flash. The Glass Lung. The heat of the wheel that didn't burn. Ouhan’s shadow standing up in the library. Flash. The Desert. Dava’s violet eyes. "They made us ghosts before we were even dead." Flash. The Palace. Fyn tapping the wheel. Lojmon’s voice. Flash. The Seals. Gwen’s hands on their head, year after year. "You just stumbled, Val. You just stumbled." Flash. Childhood. Val is five. They are crying. Their Selu, stronger then, a figure of iron and sorrow—is holding them, weeping into Val’s hair as the High Guards march into the palace.

The images accelerated. Colors blurred. The "22 Years" barrier shattered like glass, and Val fell through the timeline.

They fell past their birth. Past the Council’s rise. Past the present era entirely.

They landed in a memory that smelled of smoke and ancient rain.

Val stood on a battlefield of obsidian. The sky above was heavy, the twin suns of Kira and Tama locked in a blinding, silent stare-down, their light illuminating the wreckage of a world that had not yet been paved.

And standing in front of them was a shadow.

It looked like Val, but heavier. Darker. The figure was draped in a cloak of living night, their eyes voids of absolute zero.

Sarode, the name placed itself into Val's mind.

The Shadow-Val smiled, a cold, terrifying expression. "You finally found the key."

Val tried to speak, but another figure stepped up beside Sarode.

This figure was clad in robes of green and brown, woven from living vines. Their face was different—sharper, fiercer—but the energy was unmistakable. The hum. It was the same low, resonant vibration that Val had heard in the car, in the tunnel, and in the library.

Saje.

The Past-Saje placed a hand on Sarode’s shoulder, a gesture of familiarity that spanned lifetimes. It wasn't the touch of a servant to a master. It was the anchor of a partner to a storm.

Val watched them, the realization hitting with power, but with a heavy, crushing ache.

Saje wasn't just a gardener. He wasn't just an advisor. He'd been much more, before, for a very, very long time.

Does he remember? Val thought, the dream fading into white. If he has, he's been carrying this entire history alone, just so I wouldn't have to.

The image dissolved.

Val gasped, their physical body jolting in the co-pilot seat.

Their eyes snapped open.

The blinding white of the memory was replaced by the soft, dim glow of the ship’s cabin. The solar sails hummed a steady rhythm, vibration traveling through the glass hull.

Val sat up, chest heaving, sweat soaking their flight suit.

The cabin was quiet. Gwen was asleep in her chair, her head resting against the window, the exhaustion of the betrayal finally claiming the soldier. Wren was curled up on a supply crate, wrapped in a Khijan blanket, breathing softly.

But Saje was awake.

He was sitting in the back, staring out at the clouds below. He held a small, withered flower in his hand—a piece of the Tsujan gardens he had brought with him—spinning it absentmindedly between his fingers.

As Val shifted, Saje looked up.

His amber eyes met Val’s in the dim light.

For a heartbeat, the air in the cabin felt heavy. Val looked at him and saw the warrior from the vision. Saje looked at Val and saw the Shadow rising behind their eyes.

Val wanted to say it. I saw you. I know.

But the words died in their throat. If Val admitted they remembered, Saje would stop being Saje. He would become the Guardian again. The weight of the prophecy would crash down on this small, quiet moment.

Saje seemed to hesitate too, searching Val’s face, wondering if the memory had taken hold. But he didn't ask. He simply wanted Val to be Val for as long as the world allowed. For this time, Saje promised it would be different.

Saje offered a small, tired smile—the same smile he used when Val scraped their knee in the garden. He held up his water flask, a silent offer.

Val stared at him, a lump forming in their throat.

I will fix this, Val vowed silently, looking at the Ide who had waited centuries for them to wake up. I will break the cycle. Whether you remember or not. I will heal the world, not because of the prophecy, but so we can finally rest... Together.

Val didn't take the water. They just nodded, a small, barely perceptible movement.

Saje nodded back.

Val turned back to the cockpit window, staring into the infinite blue of the southern sky.

The silence between them wasn't empty. It was full of everything they couldn't say yet. Yet part of Val deeply craved knowing, if Saje remembered too.