The vortex of light they entered felt like a cold river current, spiraling and pulling them through strange corridors of space and time. Flashes of memories that didn’t belong to them flickered around—fragmented scenes from a past that was hazy and bewildering. Whispers echoed in their ears, indistinct and haunting, as though the ghosts of time were trying to speak. A wave of disorientation and confusion gripped them as they were flung out of the vortex and landed, slightly stumbling, on a cold stone surface.They found themselves in a strange and silent city. The surrounding buildings appeared grand yet decayed, their architecture blending various styles from different eras, as though time itself had lost its bearings here. The wide, deserted streets were coated in thick dust, and long shadows danced beneath an eternal twilight sun. The atmosphere felt desolate and melancholic, like a ghost town steeped in dark secrets."Welcome to the City of Echoes," Bayu’s voice echoed in their mi

The stillness that wrapped around them atop the crumbling tower in Echo City was fleeting. Though they had secured the Tear of Memory Crystal, the city's cold and silent aura lingered, a constant reminder of the weight of memories they bore. The pale blue crystal pulsed gently in Lyra's hand, its energy offering deeper insight into the cycles of time and how the past shapes the present.“We need to leave,” said Maeve, her eyes scanning the ruins with unwavering caution. “I don’t like this place. Too many... memories left behind.”Darren nodded in agreement. “Bayu said each artifact will lead us to the next. Does this crystal give us any clues?”Lyra focused her thoughts on the Tear of Memory Crystal, channeling its energy as she had done with the Leaf of Life. The surface of the crystal began to shimmer softly, shadows dancing within. These shadows slowly formed a sequence of symbols and vague scenes, difficult to interpret.Suddenly, one scene came into sharp focus. They saw an old m

Zimar's illusion gripped them tightly, each trapped in their deepest desires and regrets.Lyra's heart pounded as Darren—long lost—stood before her, smiling gently, reaching out his hand to offer a different path on that fateful night. The touch of his fingers felt real, his warmth burned against her skin, and his soft whisper, "This time will be different, Lyra. We can be together," struck straight at the core of her longing. She nearly reached for him, drawn into the tempting illusion of happiness.But deep within her conscious mind, she remembered the determined look in Darren's eyes as they fought side by side, the warmth of his grip in battle, and the promise they made under the starlit sky. The figure before her felt too perfect—too aligned with her desire—a subtle wrongness that shook her from the lull of the dream. With great effort, she pulled her hand back. A sharp sense of loss stabbed at her heart, but she knew this wasn’t the real Darren. "You're not him," she whispered t

The Thread of Dreams and Reality pulsed in Lyra's grasp. Its colors danced like a wounded rainbow, blazing with an energy she had never felt before. Before her, the masked figure remained unyielding, awaiting a choice that would shake not only their steps... but perhaps the very fabric of this dimension."If I save them..." Lyra whispered, barely audible, "...what will I lose?"The figure did not answer with words. Instead, the air around Lyra trembled, and then a reflection of herself appeared—an older, more fragile Lyra, her eyes devoid of light, standing and embracing the frozen shadows of Darren and Maeve like glass statues."You will lose your way," the voice finally echoed. "You will forever walk in dim light, with a blurred purpose."Seraphina stepped forward, holding Lyra's arm. Her eyes were firm, yet there was no pressure in her touch. "Choose... not out of guilt, but for the truth you believe in."Lyra nodded slowly. Her tears had dried, but the wound in her heart lay wide

The Symmetry Chamber.There was no sky, no ground. Only an ocean of light in the shape of swirling veins, reflecting and pulsating like the pulse of the universe. In the center of the room floated a large mirror, cracked in three places, with Lyra standing directly in front of it. But what stared back from the mirror……was no ordinary reflection. It was another Lyra—her eyes black, her smile twisted. Her hair was ash-gray. Her hands clutched the Thread of Reality as if it were a toy. "Why do you always fight?" Mirror-Lyra's voice hissed, cold, like mist creeping into the lungs. "Why don't you just give up and let the world fall?" Lyra steadied her breath, her body trembling. But her eyes remained firm. "Because I almost died in despair once. And I know what it feels like to be invisible. But someone pulled me back. Darren. Maeve. Seraphina. I'm not alone." Mirror-Lyra scoffed. "Lies. They're just using your Thread. You're a puppet. The keeper of a tool you don't understand." SWISH! In