The storm's aftermath left the forest silent and raw. Caelum and Selka pressed on through valleys veined with frozen rivers that glowed faintly at night. Strange lights danced in the mist — fleeting illusions of other worlds: a laughing child soaring among floating islands; a furious figure standing defiant in rivers of fire.
"Mirrors are thinning," Selka warned. "The worlds bleed together here."
They reached a canyon wreathed in unnatural fog. At its heart lay a stone platform etched with runes matching those seen in Caelum's visions of the Shrine. Faint threads of light — red, blue, and gold — drifted between the stones, pulsing like a heartbeat.
As Caelum stepped onto the platform, visions struck them: shards of memory that weren't theirs — a boy crying beneath a crimson sky, a girl dancing among howling winds, a child screaming as flames devoured a village.
Selka caught Caelum before they collapsed. "You're seeing them — the others," she whispered. "Other timelines… other yous."