The silver shard in Mirror-Amaira's palm shimmered, rotating midair like it remembered every moment it had ever unlocked. Its pulse throbbed in sync with Amaira's pendant—two halves of something ancient, something meant to remain broken.
Tylor stared into the rift. His father's figure flickered between agony and shadow. Bound by threads of light, Daniel looked right at him—but his eyes seemed to carry two timelines' worth of pain.
Mirror-Amaira's voice was calm. "This shard will open the way to the In-Between. But time there is liquid. If you enter, you risk becoming unstuck… or worse."
Elias frowned. "Define worse."
"You forget yourself," she said, voice hollow. "Memories bleed. People become echoes. That's what happened to the others."
"Others?" Kayla asked.
Mirror-Amaira nodded. "Not just your father. There are versions of you, too. Failed ones. Dead ones. One of them even tried to kill her own reflection."
The forest shuddered with a quiet groan. Amaira gripped Tylor's sleeve tightly. "We can't leave Dad there."
"We won't," Tylor said, eyes never leaving the rift. "But we'll do it our way."
He took the shard and, for a moment, saw flashes: Elena at a lab bench, drawing spiral patterns in chalk… the Chronarch, screaming inside a collapsing fracture… a younger Amaira reaching for a red balloon that turned into light.
Kayla stepped forward. "What if this is another trick? What if saving him breaks everything again?"
"Then we fix it," Tylor said. "But not by running anymore."
Mirror-Amaira pulled back the edges of the rift. "You'll need anchors. Something real. Something that ties you to this version of yourself. That's how you won't forget who you are."
Tylor nodded. He handed Amaira her old drawing—the red balloon in the sky. He handed Kayla a music box from their old room. And he took Elena's journal from his jacket, pressing it to his chest.
"We hold onto each other," he said.
They stepped toward the rift.
Reality peeled back like a curtain of smoke, revealing a place of floating stairs, shattered reflections, and frozen moments looping in midair—Daniel screaming in reverse, Elena splitting into two, Amaira's laughter echoing upside down.
As they crossed the threshold, a cold, strange gravity pulled them in. The shard grew warm. Alive.
And behind them, the rift sealed like an eyelid closing.
They were in the In-Between now.
And the clock no longer ticked. It listened.