The spiral stair was slick with condensation, its crystal steps glowing faintly beneath their feet. With every step, the air grew thicker—not heavier in weight, but in presence. Like walking through stories left half-told.
Kael touched the wall as he moved. Images sparked in the crystal at his fingertips: a boy holding a red ribbon, a woman kneeling in prayer, a battlefield drowned in rain. None of them were his.
Or so he hoped.
Lira moved carefully ahead of him, her steps deliberate. She carried a soft-glowing rod in one hand, not quite a torch, not quite a weapon. Her other hand brushed the wall occasionally—not in caution, but with familiarity.
Too familiar.
Kael paused mid-step.
"You've been down here before."
Lira didn't turn. "Not this far."
"You move like someone who knows where she's going."
"Because I've read the maps. I've talked to Vault engineers. That doesn't mean I've walked it."
Kael frowned. "But you knew to bring that light rod. You knew to mark the walls when we turned left near the seam gate. You didn't hesitate until we passed that collapse five levels up."
Now she turned.
Her face was calm, but her eyes were too still.
"What are you really asking?"
Kael stepped closer, careful not to raise his voice.
"I'm asking what else you've remembered."
She didn't answer.
Far below, the spiral opened into shadow. The silence wasn't empty—it was watching.
Kael spoke again, softer this time.
"Lira… how much of me did you know before?"
Still, she said nothing. But her knuckles tightened slightly on the rod.
The air changed again. A low vibration pulsed through the wall. A nearby crystal hummed and flickered to life, displaying a hazy image: a boy with dark hair holding a girl's hand beneath a violet sky.
Kael stared.
The girl's braid shimmered with golden thread.
Lira reached up and touched the crystal. The image vanished.
"Keep moving," she said.
Kael followed—but not as blindly as before.
Now he was watching her just as closely as he watched the path ahead.