The lights above the medical wing dimmed a second time, not due to power fluctuation or system recalibration, but because the girl lying on the sterile bed was changing. The Sanctuary was built on sacred soil, surrounded by white trees nourished by Liam's own spiritual sacrifice. But even here, at the very heart of safety, something unholy had taken root.
Lyra stood beside the bed, her hands clenched into fists. Yui's skin was pale—far too pale—and veins of gold shimmered faintly beneath the surface, pulsing like dormant circuitry waiting to ignite. The girl had been unconscious for two days since arriving through the fracture, and ever since, the garden had whispered.
Naomi glanced at the monitor, her expression grim. "Her vitals are human… but not consistent. Her blood is adjusting, adapting to this dimension. It's not just human DNA anymore."
Lyra tensed. "Whose is it?"
Naomi hesitated, then held the tablet out. "Liam's. And yours."
The silence that followed swallowed the entire room.
Ava, standing at the edge of the chamber, slowly removed her gloves. "That's not biologically possible."
"But it's there," Naomi replied. "Triple-helix sequencing. Fractured gene memory. Not natural. Not random."
Artemis leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, eyes cold. "Then we kill her."
Lyra's gaze snapped to her. "She's a child."
"She's a threat," Artemis replied. "And you're letting your feelings cloud your judgment."
"She's bonded to us—"
"She's bonded to him." Artemis cut her off sharply. "And not our Liam. Hers. The one she brought with her in pieces."
Lyra's stomach churned.
In the corner of the room, Echo stood absolutely still, her synthetic eyes flickering with calculations. "She is not entirely Yui anymore."
The words hit like ice water.
Then the girl gasped.
All heads turned.
Yui's eyes shot open—not golden, but pure white, glowing with the eerie brightness of the void. Her back arched off the bed, her lips parting in a soundless scream as the monitors exploded in a frenzy of static. Every light in the room blinked out for a second. Then came back—brighter than before.
A sound erupted from her chest.
Not a scream.
Not a cry.
A voice.
But it was not hers.
It was Liam's.
Not the one who died saving them.
Not the one they loved.
The other one.
The king. The tyrant. The shadow they had never met, but feared through prophecy and fracture-born whispers.
"I AM THE SEED," the voice said, echoing through the chamber like a thunderclap. "AND THE ROOT STILL GROWS."
Lyra moved first.
She reached for Yui's hand—half instinct, half desperation—and in that moment, a burst of golden light rippled from her fingertips, colliding with the girl's aura.
And Yui… fell limp again.
The glow vanished.
Her chest rose and fell softly.
The white in her eyes faded, replaced once more by that soft, trembling gold.
Lyra knelt beside her, brushing strands of hair from her forehead. "It's okay," she whispered. "You're safe."
But Yui only blinked, her lips quivering.
"No," she said, her voice hoarse. "I'm not."
Then she turned her head slowly, eyes locking on the others in the room.
"He's still inside me."
They moved her to the inner chamber beneath the tree. No one argued.
The white crystal lanterns lining the hallway trembled with every step they took, reacting to the strange frequency Yui was emitting just by existing. Artemis walked behind her the whole way, her dagger unsheathed, held at her side without shame. Echo hovered close, calculating thousands of escape contingencies in real time.
No one spoke.
Not until Liam did.
His voice came through the boundary lantern above the central chamber. Gentle. Hollow. Faint, like it always was now.
"Let her speak."
They gathered in a circle. Lyra. Artemis. Ava. Naomi. Echo. Maya. Vira. All silent.
Yui stood in the middle, her frame trembling.
She looked small. Fragile. Innocent.
But the weight of a corrupted world hung in her bones.
"I remember everything now," she said quietly. "Everything I forgot when I crossed the fracture."
She looked up, meeting Liam's glowing presence in the lantern.
"In my world," she continued, "you were the only person I ever loved. You saved me when no one else would. You kept me alive when the others died. You gave me food, shelter… family."
Her voice cracked.
"And then… you gave me something else."
She lifted her hand to her chest, fingers trembling.
"You gave me part of you."
Artemis moved forward, sharp and fast. "What part?"
Yui didn't flinch. "The seed. The fragment. The code. Whatever you want to call it. The version of him that had already lost everything. He didn't trust the Spiral to finish him. So he hid a backup. In me."
Her hands dropped.
"If I die… he wakes."
The words fell like blades.
Lyra shook her head. "No. No, that can't be true."
Echo stepped forward. "It's not only true. It's worse."
They turned to her.
"I analyzed her system link," Echo said softly. "She's carrying a layered protocol. One dormant. One active. The active one is Yui. But the dormant code… is broadcasting Liam's soul frequency. A corrupted echo."
Artemis tightened her grip on the dagger.
"Kill her now," she said. "We end it before it starts."
"No," Lyra snapped, stepping between them again. "We're not butchers."
"She's a time bomb—"
"She's a child!"
"She's a carrier," Echo said flatly. "Not a child. Not anymore."
But then Liam's voice came again, weaker this time.
"She was… my sister. In that world."
Everyone froze.
He continued.
"I remember pieces. Bits. Nothing clear. But… I see her face. And I feel… guilt. That version of me—he turned into something worse than the Spiral. But I remember loving her. Protecting her."
He paused.
"And I want to do it again."
That night, Lyra found Yui sitting alone beneath the white tree.
The stars above the sanctuary shimmered with unnatural light—fracture winds shifting across dimensions like ghost tides. The air smelled like ash and roses. Everything was too still.
"You should be resting," Lyra said, sitting beside her.
"I don't sleep anymore," Yui replied.
Lyra studied her.
"You look like him, you know. Your eyes. The way you watch everything."
Yui didn't respond.
Then, after a long pause, she whispered, "He wasn't always a monster."
"I know."
"He tried so hard to save us. But we kept dying. One by one. Over and over. The Spiral would rewind time, reset the world, and each time, it took more from him."
Tears fell silently down her cheeks.
"Until there was nothing left."
Lyra reached over and took her hand.
"You're not him," she said softly. "And he's not you. We won't let that version win."
"But what if he's stronger?" Yui asked. "What if the version inside me is already waking?"
Lyra smiled sadly.
"Then we fight him. Together."
The breach came at dawn.
Perimeter alarms screamed.
Maya and Naomi were the first to reach the northwest wall.
What they found was horror given form.
It looked like Maya.
Same hair. Same build. Same scent.
But wrong.
Its skin was pale and loose, sliding across bones that weren't shaped correctly. Its mouth was too wide. Its eyes had no pupils. Its smile split open vertically like a second mouth.
It spoke in Liam's voice.
"Come back to me…"
Naomi froze.
Maya stepped back.
The creature stepped forward.
"Come back… and be mine again…"
Then it lunged.
Black liquid sprayed from its fingers—tendrils of spiral essence latching onto Naomi's arm before she could fire.
She screamed.
Not from pain.
From the sudden memories pouring into her head.
Memories that weren't hers.
Inside the soul realm, Liam recoiled.
"No—"
He saw Naomi's link twisting, her bond signature warping. The Spiral was using her own guilt against her. Feeding on her doubts.
"I couldn't save her," Naomi whispered in the physical world, her eyes dilated. "She died because of me… I let her fall…"
"No!" Liam shouted. "That's not your memory! FIGHT IT!"
And she did.
Naomi screamed—and tore the black tendrils from her arm with a force that broke her own wrist. Blood sprayed. The Spiral echo shrieked.
Then Artemis arrived.
And sliced it in half.
It didn't die.
It collapsed into a puddle.
And vanished.
Later that night, Yui stood once again beneath the tree.
And this time, she heard the voice.
Not Liam.
Not hers.
The other voice.
The one buried deep.
It whispered through her lips.
"I told you… you were never alone."
She fell to her knees, coughing blood.
And when she looked up…
The sky cracked open.
A second Liam—made of fire, bone, and storm—descended from the breach.
And smiled.