First-Person — Tone: Thoughtful, surreal, growing tension, hopeful edge
---
When I woke again, the mark on my hand hadn't faded.
It was real.
Not just some dream-brand or story artifact. It pulsed faintly against my skin, a gentle light with no heat, like the memory of a fire. The symbol hovered just above my palm — not carved into it, but alive, floating a hair's width above the surface.
An eye, circled by a broken ring. Wings on either side.
Not Zonai. Not Sheikah. Not anything I remembered from the games.
This was older.
The Tear of Balance.
I turned my hand over, half expecting the glow to disappear.
It didn't.
If anything… it got brighter.
---
I didn't remember standing up, but my legs were already moving — pulled by instinct. Or fate. Or whatever it was that dragged people like me into the bones of a story they were never supposed to write.
The Temple doors, once sealed, stood open now.
No fanfare. No prophecy. Just quiet, patient stone — waiting.
I stepped inside.
The air was ancient.
Every footstep echoed like a scream through a cathedral. Light spilled in from high windows, catching dust motes that hung in the air like tiny stars. The walls were carved with stories I couldn't read — lines that twisted and flowed, forming symbols that felt halfway between language and prayer.
And at the far end, resting on a pedestal shaped like a blooming lotus, was a strange device.
A mirror.
Small, handheld.
Cracked down the middle.
I approached.
The moment my fingers touched it, the world shivered.
---
Suddenly I wasn't alone.
A presence surged through the chamber. Not physical — spiritual. Heavy, ancient, too big to comprehend.
> "You bear what was never meant to return."
The voice wasn't Mineru's. And it wasn't Zelda's.
It was something else.
Something… angry.
> "The Eighth Tear was shattered. Sealed. Hidden from the cycle."
> "And now it wakes."
My heart pounded. I gritted my teeth. "Then maybe it should have stayed awake. Maybe if you hadn't locked it away, things wouldn't keep falling apart."
The voice was silent for a moment.
Then:
> "You were not chosen."
That word again. Chosen.
I clenched my fists.
"No. I was forgotten. There's a difference."
The silence that followed was absolute.
And then — just for a heartbeat — I thought I heard Zelda's voice.
> "Don't listen to them."
Just a whisper.
But it anchored me.
I lifted the cracked mirror and held it toward the light spilling through the Temple's shattered dome.
The Tear on my palm reacted — flaring.
The mirror glowed.
And for a single instant, I saw everything.
---
Visions.
Flashes of time and space — like shards of broken glass crashing into my mind.
Zelda. In chains, crying out into a void.
Link. Bleeding in the Depths, struggling to stand.
Ganondorf. Standing atop a black monolith, crowned in flame.
And me.
Or something wearing my face — cloaked in shadows, holding a sword I didn't recognize, with Zelda's crown in one hand… and Link's broken Master Sword in the other.
I dropped the mirror.
It didn't shatter.
It simply… vanished.
Melted into motes of light.
And the voice returned — not angry now. Just tired.
> "The Balance must be restored."
"Or all things will fall into Silence."
---
I didn't know how long I stood there, shaking.
Maybe seconds.
Maybe hours.
Eventually, I left the Temple, the Tear still glowing faintly against my hand — quiet now, like it had said what it needed to say, and would wait for me to catch up.
---
Later that day, I sat by a cliff edge overlooking the horizon. My mind was burning, but my body refused to move.
Everything had changed again.
The power I had was more than Zonai tech or a gameplay gimmick. The Skyforge Arm had fused with something deeper. The Tear of Balance wasn't just another magical object — it was a rule-breaker. Something that shouldn't exist.
And Zelda…
She remembered me.
Not as a stranger. Not as a curiosity.
But as something precious.
Her words in the dream clung to my mind like silk:
> "I've loved you for centuries, haven't I?"
It didn't feel romantic.
Not yet.
It felt like gravity.
Like I had become the center of something I didn't ask for, and now everything — fate, magic, even the goddesses — was starting to spin.
---
As the sun dipped low again, I finally heard footsteps behind me.
Quiet.
Measured.
I didn't look.
"I know you're there," I said.
A laugh — light, dry, amused.
"I always was."
I turned.
A girl stood in the fading light, her cloak flaring slightly in the breeze.
Not Zelda.
But familiar.
Purah.
Except not as the quirky older scientist I remembered. This Purah looked… younger. Sharper. Eyes glowing faintly behind her glasses.
And she was staring directly at the Tear on my hand.
Her expression?
Not fear.
Not curiosity.
Obsession.
She stepped closer.
And smiled.
> "We've been watching you, Balance-Bearer."
"You're not supposed to exist. But oh… I'm so glad you do."