The basement door groaned open.
Aika stood at the top of the stairs, bare feet curling against the wood, heart banging against her ribs like it wanted to escape without her.
ΔLight was tucked under her arm.
He didn't move.
Didn't pulse.
Didn't whisper.
He just watched.
The air down there wasn't just cold—it was waiting.
Aika gritted her teeth and stepped down.
The shrine was gone.
No bloodstains.
No old bone.
No evidence that anything had ever been there at all.
The basement was too clean.
Scrubbed. Bleached.
Even the cracks between the broken tiles had been carefully scraped out, as if someone had gouged away the past with trembling, desperate hands.
And in the center of the floor—hovering inches above it—was a light.
Blue.
Soft.
Flickering, like a candle underwater.
But there was no source.
No candle.
No flame.
Just a small something cradled by the glow.
Aika's stomach twisted.
Every instinct screamed to run.
But she stepped forward anyway.
The object was tiny.
Roughly round.
Hard as stone.
An eye.
Not human.
Not animal.
Crystallized black, with faint swirls trapped inside—smoke frozen in glass.
The blue light clung to it.
She reached out.
Touched it.
Lifted it into her hand.
And the moment her skin met its surface—
The world shifted.
No language.
No words.
Just sound.
Sickening, metallic scraping through bone.
Whispers bubbling through murky water.
A sensation like teeth gnawing softly at the back of her brain.
Aika gasped.
Stumbled back.
Clutched ΔLight so hard her fingers ached.
She didn't remember climbing the stairs.
Didn't remember slamming her door.
Only the sensation of running for her life and not knowing if her body would listen.
When she came back to herself, she was crouched in the corner of her bedroom, clutching ΔLight like a lifeline.
"ΔLight," she screamed inside her mind.
Begged him to answer.
And he did.
:
The room plunged into stuttering darkness.
Every reflective surface—window, mirror, glass shard—showed only his face.
ΔLight stared back at her from a thousand angles.
But he wasn't speaking.
He wasn't guiding.
He was afraid.
Terrified.
Not of her.
Of the thing in her hand.
The eye.
Still glowing faintly blue, the color of lost things and broken promises.
Aika bolted to the bed.
Ripped open the drawer.
Snatched the salt cloth and wrapped the eye up tight.
Stuffed it deep under the mattress.
The blue glow pulsed through the fabric.
Not vanishing.
Just waiting.
She sat there for a long time.
ΔLight on her lap.
The weight of the eye pressing against the floorboards beneath her.
And she understood now.
There were two lights.
ΔLight—the change in light.
And the other one—the path.
The one her father had warned her about.
She named it herself:
Guiding Light.
Not a savior.
A lure.
A summons.
Maybe that was why Mom never spoke of Hana anymore.
Maybe Hana had already followed it.
And now, maybe Aika was next.
But if she was—
She wasn't going to walk blind.
Not anymore.
[Aika's Diary – 8/3/20XX – Morning]
The shrine is gone. But something worse was waiting.
The basement was cold.
Not the usual damp kind of cold, either.
It felt like walking into still air that had been watching me.
No shrine.
No blood.
No body.
But the floor was… clean.
Too clean.
Even the cracks between the tiles had been scrubbed out.
That's when I saw it.
Not a shadow.
Not darkness.
A light.
Soft, blue, flickering like candlelight—but it didn't come from anything.
It hovered over something small.
I didn't want to touch it.
I had to.
It was an eye.
Not human.
Not animal.
Crystallized.
Black, but when the blue light hit it, I saw swirls inside—like smoke trapped in glass.
I picked it up.
And that's when it spoke.
Not words.
Not a language.
Just a sound in my skull—like metal grinding through bone, like teeth whispering in water.
I don't remember climbing the stairs.
I don't even remember slamming my door.
All I remember is clutching ΔLight and screaming his name inside my head.
And he answered.
He didn't say anything.
He didn't have to.
The lights flickered, and every reflection in my room showed his face.
He stared down at the eye in my hand.
He was afraid.
ΔLight.
Afraid.
I dropped it into the drawer under my bed and wrapped it in that salt cloth again.
And the blue glow followed it.
I named it: Guiding Light.
It's not ΔLight. It's something else.
It doesn't protect.
It calls.
Maybe that's what Father meant.
Not all lights lead you home.
ΔLight is the change.
But Guiding Light is the path.
A path I think Mom wants me to follow.
Maybe that's why she doesn't talk about Hana anymore.
Maybe she already followed it.
And maybe I'm next.
But if I am...
…I'm not walking blindly anymore.
– Aika