I dropped to my knees, breathing heavily. Slowly, the blurred shapes around me sharpened again, and the floor felt solid beneath my hands. My heart was still racing, and my chest felt painfully tight.
"That was close," Echo said sharply. "You nearly drew Her attention."
I pressed a hand against my forehead, forcing myself to focus. My vision gradually cleared, but the sense of unease remained strong.
Echo continued, his voice calm but firm. "You need to be more careful. A god's presence is never something to underestimate. Even mentioning Her name here is risky.
I can manage it because I'm not truly alive. But you.. you're vulnerable. Her attention would find you quickly."
I took a deep breath, steadying my heartbeat. "Which cycle was that memory from?" I asked quietly.
Echo paused for a moment before responding. "Cycle seven-three-one… that was where everything ended. You and Elara were both involved.
You'd discovered something, something about Luminis. You were trying to confront the goddess herself."
My chest tightened. "We tried to confront Her?"
"Yes," Echo confirmed. "You think you were read, but You weren't. Neither of you were.
Elara didn't even have the full picture. But she followed you anyway.
That was the last memory recorded in that cycle."
I clenched my jaw, remembering the pressure, the divine light, the way everything in me had gone still.
"That cycle ended in complete erasure," Echo said. "Even I couldn't retrieve all the data. It was one of the closest you've ever come to divine annihilation."
I looked down at my hands. They were still shaking slightly.
"Then why did I just remember it now?" I asked.
"I don't know," Echo said. "It might be proximity. Maybe you're treading too close to the same path.
Or something triggered it, like meeting Elara. But if you keep digging in that direction, you'll invite Her gaze again."
I stayed silent, trying to sort through the tangle of thoughts.
Echo spoke again. "Focus on what you can control. Elara is alive here.
The disappearances are still happening. Solve that first. Don't repeat your own mistakes."
I nodded slowly, carefully rising back to my feet. Echo was right. I couldn't let myself be distracted by the past, not when it ended with failure.
I took another look at the list I'd found in the lower archives. The names were still fresh in my mind, each one neatly recorded.
Students who vanished without explanation. Echo had agreed to help me compare these names with past cycles, looking for any patterns or similarities.
Sitting in my room, I spread the parchment out on the desk. Echo quickly began matching the names to records from earlier timelines.
"Most of these students never made it past the mid-term trials," Echo said.
"In almost every cycle, they vanished around the same time. The official records never give details. They're simply marked as withdrawn."
I leaned back in my chair, thinking. "But the Academy didn't list them as missing openly. They hid it. Why go to so much trouble to cover up these disappearances?"
"The Sanctum doesn't like uncertainty," Echo replied evenly. "Better to erase doubts entirely than let people ask difficult questions."
I sighed and stood up, folding the list carefully. "Then I'll ask the questions myself."
I started visiting the student dormitories. It was easy to move around if I pretended to deliver notes from teachers or the administration. Most students didn't question it, simply accepting the explanation without comment.
Some rooms, though, were sealed tight. Strong divine barrier guarded the doors. Even approaching them set my nerves on edge.
Other rooms were different. They stood open and empty, clearly scrubbed clean.
The beds were neatly made, desks spotless, no trace left of their former occupants. They'd already been reassigned to new students, as if nothing had ever happened.
When I tried to ask the other students about their missing classmates, their reactions were strangely cautious.
They kept their answers vague and brief. Their eyes avoided mine. No one seemed willing to discuss it openly.
"Did you know Talin?" I asked one of the younger acolytes.
The girl shook her head, her gaze fixed on her textbook. "Not really. He left one day. That's all I heard."
"Left?" I pressed gently. "Did he say why?"
She hesitated for a moment. "No," she finally answered, barely above a whisper. "He just stopped showing up."
As I walked between buildings, I began noticing Seren watching me again. She stood quietly at a distance, always careful not to get too close, yet making sure I saw her. She never approached, never said anything, but her eyes followed my every move.
After noticing her several times, it felt like she wasn't just curious. She was following me deliberately.
When I passed her again in the corridor near my dormitory, I finally decided to confront her.
I stopped briefly, looking her directly in the eyes. "Did you need something, Seren?"
She paused. Her gaze flickered slightly before settling again. "Just passing by," she replied calmly. "You've been busy lately. Everyone noticed."
"Busy with schoolwork," I answered evenly, keeping my voice calm. "Is that unusual?"
She smiled faintly, but her eyes remained wary. "Just be careful. Too many questions can draw unwanted attention."
Then she walked away, leaving me alone in the quiet corridor, her warning echoing softly in my mind.
I circled back to the east dormitory wing after midday meal, keeping my pace casual. Most of the students had already returned to class or prayer. The halls were quiet.
I stopped in front of a door marked with a faded nameplate. The seal had been scraped off, replaced with fresh chalk markings, someone new lived here now. But the room number was familiar.
"Echo," I murmured, checking the parchment again. "The name Arlen Veris, this was his dorm, right?"
"It was," Echo confirmed. "During Cycle 712. You spoke to him several times in that life."
I glanced at the closed door. "What was he like?"
"Quiet. Kept to himself. But he was close to someone… wait." Echo paused. "He used to live across the hall from Elara's room."
I turned, looking at the other side. A memory stirred, just enough to feel real. The hallway had been different then, but not by much.
"Elara's room isn't here anymore," I said.
"No. It seem in this cycle, her placement changed. But the rooms on this side stayed mostly the same."
I ran my hand along the doorframe. It wasn't warded, just shut. I moved on, making a note of the room number.
I kept asking around under the same excuse, delivering records, checking attendance logs. I found a few names who once shared practice shifts with her, all gone now.
It wasn't a clear link, but the pattern stirred something in my mind.
"She's not connected to the disappearances," I murmured, "but she's close to them. Close enough that she might've seen something without realizing it."
Echo stayed silent for a moment, then said, "She's always drawn people to her. In almost every cycle."
That was true. She didn't chase attention, but it always found her. Whether through kindness, accident, or simple presence, people remembered Elara.
I stepped away from the door and turned back toward the corridor.
"I need her help," I said.
"You sure? You're pulling her into something dangerous," Echo warned.
"She's already close to it," I replied. "If I keep her close, I can protect her. And maybe she'll see something I miss."
Echo didn't respond right away.
I glanced down the hallway. It was quiet now. Just old stone and faint candlelight.
"I'll talk to her tomorrow."