The sky won't stay still anymore.
Every morning since the light appeared, the colors shift differently — too fast, too fluid. Yesterday the dawn was pale blue. Today it's almost violet, streaked with gold that flickers like broken glass. Aya says it's just atmospheric interference from Aether residue.
But I can tell. It's not the air that's unstable. It's reality itself.
The others don't see it yet.
---
We moved our camp closer to the southern ridge — a little hill overlooking the crystalline fields. Kaede said it'd give us "better sensor triangulation." I think she just wanted distance from whatever happened yesterday.
The team's acting normal, but it's the kind of normal that feels rehearsed.
Miyu hums while cooking. Aya stretches. Yumi prays.
All perfectly timed, perfectly ordinary.
But every time I blink, their movements stutter for half a second — like the world's skipping frames.
And sometimes… I hear their voices in the pauses.
"Find the seam."
"Wake the dreamer."
"She's not gone."
---
"Haruto."
Aya's voice breaks through the haze. She's standing behind me, her rifle slung casually over her shoulder, her shadow cutting across the tent floor.
"You okay? You didn't eat again."
"I'm fine," I lie.
She studies me with that quiet concern she tries to hide. "You're hearing it again, aren't you?"
"What makes you think that?"
"You get that look," she says simply. "Like you're half somewhere else."
I try to laugh it off, but it comes out brittle. "That's because I am. Half of me's always stuck in that last battle."
Aya doesn't smile. "We all are."
For a moment, neither of us says anything. The wind hums through the Aether crystals, making a sound like distant bells. Aya sets her hand on my shoulder — firm, grounding.
"If you start slipping too far," she murmurs, "I'll pull you back. Got it?"
Her voice is steady. Real.
And for a moment, the whispers fade.
---
Later that night, I take first watch.
The camp's quiet. Kaede's asleep at her console. Miyu's curled up near the fire, mumbling softly in her dreams. Aya snores faintly — something I'd tease her about if I wasn't too busy listening to the wind.
The hum beneath the earth hasn't stopped. If anything, it's stronger.
When I close my eyes, I can see it — a lattice of light weaving through the soil, pulsing in sync with my heartbeat. It's almost beautiful, like veins of silver threading through darkness.
Then I notice the rhythm doesn't match mine anymore.
It's faster.
And it's coming closer.
---
I jolt awake — though I'm sure I never fell asleep. The fire's gone out, but the camp isn't dark. Everything's glowing faintly, illuminated by that same violet hue bleeding from the horizon.
And in that half-light, I see her.
Lunaris.
Standing by the ridge, her form translucent, shifting — like a reflection on rippling water.
I can't move. My throat locks.
"Lunaris…"
Her lips move, but the sound doesn't reach me. Instead, her words appear in the air, written in light.
This dawn is false.
You are still inside.
Before I can speak, her image fractures — hundreds of copies scattering like shards of glass. The hum turns into a scream. I fall to my knees, clutching my chest as my Aether pulse flares, burning white-hot.
You must wake up.
The world collapses into static.
---
When I open my eyes, the sun is up. The camp looks normal. Aya's poking the fire back to life, humming softly.
"Rough night?" she asks.
I nod, rubbing my temples. "Did you… hear anything? See anyone?"
She frowns. "No. Just your yelling."
Kaede looks up from her screen. "Sensors went haywire around 0300. Massive Aether spike — localized. You sure you didn't do anything weird again?"
I try to laugh, but my voice shakes. "Define weird."
Miyu hands me a cup of tea. "You're pale," she says. "Drink this. It helps ground your spirit."
I sip it. It's sweet and bitter, grounding in a way I didn't expect. For a moment, I almost believe everything's fine.
Almost.
Then Yumi walks in, holding something in her hands.
"Captain," she whispers, eyes wide. "You need to see this."
---
It's a shard of crystal, about the size of a palm — faintly pulsing with light. Embedded inside it is… a reflection. Not of Yumi or me. But of Lunaris.
She's smiling — faint, serene, but unmistakably her.
"She appeared in my prayer circle last night," Yumi says. "Said she wanted to 'show us the truth.' Then she vanished."
Aya groans. "Please tell me this isn't another fog-hallucination."
"It's not fog," I murmur. "It's the fracture."
Kaede's head snaps up. "What?"
"The world's not… holding," I say slowly, the realization dawning like a knife twist. "Whatever Lunaris did to end the war — it wasn't destruction. It was replacement."
Aya narrows her eyes. "You're saying this world's… fake?"
"Not fake," I correct. "Preserved. Like a painting stretched over a broken wall. We're living inside her last memory."
No one speaks. Even the wind seems to hold its breath.
---
We spend the day investigating the shard. Kaede's equipment barely registers it — as if the thing doesn't exist on a normal spectrum. Every scan loops back with errors.
"This data's impossible," she mutters, frustrated. "It's reading both infinite energy and none at all."
Miyu tilts her head. "Like it's both alive and dead?"
Aya sighs. "Great. Schrödinger's goddess."
I almost laugh — until I notice something. The shard's glow pulses in sync with my Aether pulse again. The light flickers faster whenever I touch it.
I swear I hear a whisper.
Find the seam.
---
Night falls again. I can't stop staring at the crystal.
It feels like it's watching me back. Every few minutes, I catch a flicker of movement inside it — Lunaris turning, looking directly at me. Sometimes, the reflection doesn't match what I do.
Once, when I blink, her lips move.
Wake.
The next instant, I'm not in the tent anymore. I'm standing in the field again — the world colorless, still. Lunaris stands across from me, expression unreadable.
"Why are you doing this?" I ask.
Her answer comes like an echo from underwater.
"To keep you safe."
"From what?"
"The truth."
The world ripples — like a reflection disturbed by a stone. "You were supposed to forget," she whispers. "But your pulse remembers."
I look down. My chest glows through my shirt, light pulsing violently. The air cracks with static.
"Lunaris—"
She raises her hand. "Don't wake me."
Then everything shatters.
---
When I wake again, my team's around me. Aya's shaking me, panic in her eyes.
"Haruto! What happened?!"
The tent's half-collapsed, and the crystal — the crystal's gone.
Kaede's voice trembles for the first time I've ever heard. "The sensors… they're showing two readings for you now."
"What?" I croak.
"One's here. The other's… inside the field, where the sphere appeared."
Yumi clutches her pendant. "The goddess is calling him."
Aya glares. "Shut it, Yumi!"
But I barely hear them. Because beneath their voices, I can still hear Lunaris whispering — not through memory, but through the comms channel itself.
"The dawn lies."
Static.
"Wake up."
---
For the rest of the night, I sit alone outside the tent, staring at the horizon. The sky's back to its pale gold — calm, harmless. But I can't trust it anymore.
Every time I blink, the light flickers wrong.
Every time I breathe, the hum grows louder.
Aya keeps a silent vigil nearby, pretending she's just cleaning her weapon. I'm grateful for that. Her presence is the only thing that still feels solid.
But deep down, I can feel it — something inside me shifting, resonating with that unseen world beneath ours.
The Aether within me is waking up again.
And whatever lies beneath this false dawn… is waking with it.
To be continued in Chapter 18: "Fragments of a Forgotten Dawn"