The air has stopped moving. Even the smoke holds its breath. Elara stands in the middle of the square, staring at her trembling hand.The spark that touched her skin is gone, yet her veins glow faintly beneath the surface,gold, pulsing like a second heartbeat.“Frank?” she whispers.No answer. Only the distant groan of roots shifting under stone. She presses her palm to her chest. The warmth spreads,slow, steady, invasive.“No, no, no… I didn’t ask for this.”A voice flickers through her mind, a whisper at the edge of hearing. “You didn’t need to ask.”“Who’s there?”Silence. Then: “I am what he left.”Elara spins around. The streets are empty. Her own reflection stares back from a pool of molten glass,a reflection that moves half a second late.“If you’re him… say something only Frank would know.”“The night you found me in the ruins of the library… you said my name like it was a question.”Her knees nearly give out. “Frank?”“Fragments of him. Pieces caught in the flame. Don’t trust

The world splits down the middle. Half the forest burns red, half glows gold. Between them, air trembles like cracked glass.Elara stands at the center, wind tearing at her hair. Across from her, the red-lit figure takes form, Frank, or what’s left of him. His skin flickers like molten stone, his eyes mirrors of fire. “Frank, stop! This isn’t you!”“You think you know what I am?” His voice vibrates through the ground. “You ripped me in half!”“I was trying to save you!”“You saved the part that wanted to burn!”He raises his hand. The sky darkens. Red lightning arcs between clouds and roots. Elara throws out her arm instinctively. Gold fire meets red midair. The collision blossoms into a shockwave that sends waves of heat and light ripping through the trees. “We can stop this!” she shouts.“There is no ‘we’ anymore.”“You’re wrong!”“Then prove it.”He hurls a sphere of molten energy. She dodges, rolling behind a twisted trunk that melts instantly under the blast. The air screams,

The air bends as the tree’s split widens. Light pours from within,too bright to be fire, too cold to be mercy. Elara raises a trembling arm against the glare.A figure steps through. It moves like mist made solid, skin almost translucent, hair glowing faintly silver. Its eyes are pale,no pupils, no emotion.It wears her face. “What are you?” Elara whispers.“The version that remembers.”“You’re not me.”“I am what you were meant to become.”Elara takes a step back, boots crunching on ash. “Meant by who?”“The Rootfire. The design is complete. Chaos divided, balance rewritten. You are obsolete.”“Obsolete?”“Emotion weakens purpose.”“It defines purpose.”The white figure tilts its head. “Purpose is not defined. It is maintained.”“You sound like the system Frank destroyed.”“He destroyed inefficiency. I am the correction.”The wind stirs between them. The massive tree behind the figure groans; golden sap drips like molten tears. Elara clenches her fists. “If you’re me, you know I won

When sound returns, it isn’t wind or thunder. It’s breath, one long inhale that belongs to the world itself. Elara opens her eyes. The sky is blue. Too blue.Clouds drift like paint smeared across glass, their edges glowing faintly gold. The air smells clean, sharp, new, but beneath it lingers the metallic tang of something unfinished.She sits up slowly. The ground beneath her is grass, soft and green, yet each blade hums with a low, steady vibration. “Frank?”Silence. Then a voice, faint and distant. “You’re early.”“What?”“You weren’t supposed to wake yet.”Elara turns. A man stands on the horizon, tall, indistinct, haloed by sunlight. She blinks, and he’s gone. “Frank!”“Not exactly.”She freezes. The voice comes from everywhere and nowhere, the same tone that once guided her through the Rootfire. “You’re still here.”“You made me part of you. Did you think you could wake up without me?”“I thought… I thought we merged.”“We did. But merging doesn’t mean silence.”She rises to h

The silence after destruction is heavier than thunder. Elara stands at the base of the white tree, her breath a thread between worlds.The city burns around her,quietly. Flames ripple without smoke, light without heat. The hum has stopped; even the wind seems afraid to move. She touches the split bark. It’s warm. Too warm.“You’re still here,” she whispers. “I can feel you.”From within the hollow, a soft sound,half sigh, half heartbeat. Then her voice comes back to her, deeper, slower. “Of course I’m here. You built me to last.”“I didn’t build you,” she says. “I built the world.”“You built everything except what you needed most.”“What’s that?”“Someone to stop you.”Her chest tightens. “You’re not real. You’re a residue. A loop.”“A loop doesn’t learn. I did.”The bark ripples like skin; a faint light swells from within. Elara steps back. “If you learned, then you know I won’t let you out.”“You will.”“Why would I?”“Because you hate being alone.”She stiffens. “That’s not true.