Fragments of the Fallen
The ash fell like soft snow.
Tsukihana and Renjiro hid beneath the frost-bitten roots of a broken tree as the sky above glowed silver with unnatural light. The energy still buzzed in the air — the aftershock of the clone's attack had cracked the cliff they stood on earlier.
Renjiro pressed a bloodied hand against his ribs. "We can't fight him now," he muttered. "He's too strong."
Tsukihana wasn't listening. She was staring at the glowing scar on her palm — the same one that had first appeared when the Hollow Vein inside her awoke. It pulsed, warm and slow, like it was responding to the boy's power.
"That wasn't just a clone," she said.
Renjiro winced. "You're right. It wasn't."
She turned to him sharply. "Then what was it?"
He looked away. "That was a Memory Core. A special kind of clone… grown in secret Reignborn labs. They don't just copy faces. They copy souls."
She felt cold all over. "So… that's not just someone wearing Akarui's skin."
"No," Renjiro said. "It's someone who believes they are him."
Meanwhile — Elsewhere in the Forgotten Plains
Deep beneath an abandoned temple, in a place untouched by snow or sun, an old woman sat alone in a room full of stone mirrors. Her robes were tattered. Her hands gnarled. But her eyes glowed faintly blue — the color of a once-powerful seer.
She stirred suddenly.
The mirrors around her flickered with moving images — the clone's lightning attack, Tsukihana's fall, the purple claw of Vein energy splitting the sky.
"They've awakened the fragment," she whispered. "And the Hollow is watching."
A small creature crawled out from the shadows — part lizard, part mist, its body shifting like fog.
"It's too soon," the creature hissed. "The girl is unstable. She will not survive the bond."
The woman didn't answer right away. She reached out to one of the mirrors, her fingers brushing the cold stone surface.
"She must survive," she said softly. "Because if she doesn't… the world won't either."
Back in the Snowy Canyons
Renjiro and Tsukihana moved fast through the dead woods, away from the broken ridge and toward the river. A hidden camp lay beyond the valley — one of Renjiro's old emergency outposts.
They traveled in silence.
Tsukihana's thoughts swirled.
Every step echoed with questions:
Why her? Why did she carry this shard? And how did this… clone… know her heart?
She had never met Akarui.
He had died long before she was born.
And yet when the clone spoke… when he looked at her… there was something familiar there. Like a memory that wasn't hers.
Finally, she stopped walking.
Renjiro turned. "What's wrong?"
She stared at him.
"Tell me everything."
He sighed. "Now's not the time."
"It has to be," she said, louder. "You knew Akarui, didn't you? You knew who he was before he died."
Renjiro looked away. "He was a symbol. A leader. A warrior."
"That's not what I'm asking."
She stepped forward. "Tell me what he was to you."
Renjiro hesitated.
Then he said, "He was my brother."
Her breath caught.
"What…?"
"Not by blood," Renjiro said quietly. "But by bond. We trained under the same master. Fought in the same wars. I was with him when he sealed the Hollow… the first time."
Tsukihana's heart raced. "So when he died—"
"He didn't die," Renjiro interrupted. "He chose to become the cage. He trapped the Hollow inside himself. And then… he vanished."
Tsukihana shook her head. "But if the clone is just a copy—"
"It doesn't matter," Renjiro said. "Because that boy has his memories. His feelings. Maybe even his regrets."
Tsukihana looked down at her hand.
"What if he's… not just a clone?" she whispered. "What if part of Akarui is still alive?"
Renjiro's eyes narrowed. "Then that makes him even more dangerous."
Later That Night — At the Outpost Camp
They reached the outpost by dusk. It was hidden beneath a rock ledge, covered by snow and ancient camouflage seals. Inside, a small fire crackled in a stone hearth. The warmth was the first they had felt in days.
Tsukihana sat in silence, staring at the flames.
Renjiro laid out an old scroll.
"We need answers," he said. "And this may help."
She looked over. The scroll was aged, but the writing was clear — an old language, written by the early Mirror Vein monks.
Renjiro pointed to a symbol.
"This is the Fractured Sigil," he explained. "It means 'soul split by choice.' It's only used in one story."
Tsukihana leaned closer.
"The story of a warrior who divided his soul into three parts: one to carry pain, one to carry memory, and one to carry love."
"Why?"
"To stop the Hollow from consuming it all."
She stared at the page.
"So you think… Akarui split himself?"
Renjiro nodded. "If that's true… then that clone we saw today carries his memories."
"And I…" Tsukihana said slowly, "carry his pain."
They sat in silence.
Until Renjiro whispered, "Then someone out there still carries his love."
Suddenly — A New Attack
A loud crack split the sky again.
They jumped to their feet.
The seals on the outpost door glowed — then shattered.
A figure stepped into the firelight.
Not the clone.
Someone else.
She wore no mask. No cloak. Her face was calm and pale, but her eyes… were completely black.
Veins of silver light pulsed along her arms.
Tsukihana froze.
"I know you," she whispered.
The woman smiled slightly. "You should."
Renjiro stepped in front of Tsukihana. "Who are you?"
The woman's voice was soft. "A reminder."
She raised her hand.
A pulse of energy knocked Renjiro backward — hard.
Tsukihana caught his fall, shocked.
"How did you—?"
But the woman didn't answer.
She just looked at Tsukihana and said:
"You're not the only one he left something inside."
Then she vanished — as quickly as she came.