The moonlight draped Everhart's courtyard in silver, but Andy felt the weight of shadows heavier than any battlefield. He walked in silence, each step echoing with whispers from earlier in the great hall.
"Kayla has his heart."
"Devotion deeper than duty."
"Perhaps Lady Nia is bound by the System alone."
The words clung to him like chains he couldn't break.
"Andy."
Her voice was soft, melodic, almost fragile. He turned.
Kayla stood among the roses, her rose-silver hair gleaming as though it carried light of its own. She smiled—gentle, wistful, aching. The kind of smile that made even wounds feel worth bearing.
"I knew you would come," she whispered. "You've forgotten so much, but I'll remind you."
Before he could speak, the air shimmered.
The world bent. The courtyard dissolved.
Andy gasped. He stood in a meadow bathed in golden sunlight. The scent of bread drifted from a village in the distance. Children's laughter carried on the breeze, pure and sweet. The grass brushed his knees, warm under his fingers.
His throat tightened. "I… I know this place."
Kayla stepped closer, her gown trailing the flowers. "Yes. Our village. Do you remember?"
Before his eyes, a boy appeared—himself, younger, ragged but smiling, chasing laughter through the meadow. A girl with silver-rose hair ran beside him, her hand clasped in his, their laughter twining like bells.
Andy staggered. The sight was so vivid it carved into his chest. Loneliness, hunger, the nights he had endured—what if it was all false? What if this was the truth he had forgotten?
Kayla's voice trembled with warmth. "You weren't alone, Andy. You had me. We played, we dreamed, we promised each other forever. The System tried to bury it, but you can feel it, can't you? This was first. This was real."
She reached up, fingers brushing his arm, trailing upward until they cupped his cheek. Her touch burned with warmth. Her eyes glittered with tears as her lips parted.
"I never forgot you. Even when you forgot me. Let me be your first again… your last."
His breath faltered. The meadow's sunlight pressed against his skin, the laughter pulled at his heart, her closeness was dizzying. Her lips hovered a breath away.
And for one fragile, dangerous moment, Andy leaned closer.
"Andy!"
The voice split the illusion like a sword through glass.
Nia stood in the meadow. Silver hair blazing, her gown billowing in a wind that wasn't real, her eyes burning with fire. She strode forward, unafraid, and seized his hand.
"This isn't real," she snapped. Her voice was the anchor he hadn't known he needed. "You never had this. You told me yourself—you were alone, cold, starving. Until me. Until us. She's stealing your truth."
The meadow flickered. The children's laughter twisted into distorted echoes, the smell of bread soured.
Andy's chest heaved. His real memories surged: scavenging scraps, sleeping beneath torn roofs, Nia's smile the first light he had ever trusted. That was real.
Kayla's grip on his cheek trembled. "Don't listen to her! Feel this, Andy! The warmth, the joy—it's what you always wanted. I can give you a life without pain. Doesn't this feel like love?"
For a heartbeat, Andy wavered. Her eyes glimmered with devotion so deep, so believable. His lips parted—
Then Nia's grip tightened, and light flared between their hands.
"Love isn't an illusion," she shouted. "It's blood, trial, fire. It's standing together when the world tries to tear you apart. And ours—Andy, ours—is real."
The illusion cracked like shattered glass. The children's laughter screamed before dying. The meadow withered into ash. Andy fell to his knees, dragging in breaths of moonlit air as the courtyard returned.
He still clung to Nia's hand, shaking.
Kayla stood before them. Her smile never broke, serene and gentle—but her crystal eyes burned, sharp with unmasked frustration before serenity smoothed them again.
The System's voice thundered in Andy's mind:
> [Critical Alert Resolved]
Illusion neutralized. Seduction resisted.
[Bond Progression: 104% → 106%]
Trust reinforced. Anchor validated.
Andy turned to Nia, his forehead pressed against hers, his voice ragged. "I almost… I almost believed her. I wanted to. But you—you pulled me back."
Nia's eyes softened, though fire still burned within. "Then remember this. If she tries again, I'll tear apart every illusion until nothing's left. I won't let her take you."
Andy closed his eyes, certainty flooding his chest. "And I'll never let go of you."
Behind them, Kayla's smile lingered—gentle enough to sway hearts, devoted enough to spark pity. For some, she was the girl tragically forgotten. For others, she was the serpent weaving lies.
The game of hearts had begun, and the great hall would soon divide—Team Nia, who burned like fire, and Team Kayla, who shone like starlight.
The courtyard was quiet, but Andy still felt the ghost of Kayla's illusion pressing against him. The laughter of false children echoed in his ears, the warmth of her hand on his cheek lingered like a scar. Shame weighed on him, not just for himself but for how Nia had looked at him when she broke the illusion—fire in her eyes, fear in her heart.
"You leaned toward her."
Her voice cut through the silence, quiet but sharp as glass.
Andy's throat tightened. "I know. I almost—" His words cracked. "I'm sorry, Nia. I didn't mean—"
She touched his lips with her finger, stopping him. Her silver eyes gleamed in the moonlight, not with anger but with fierce vulnerability. "Don't apologize. Just… don't let me fight her alone."
The plea pierced him deeper than any blade. He pulled her into his arms, holding her as though he could shield her from every shadow. "You're not alone," he murmured. "Not now. Not ever."
Her composure faltered. A tear slipped down her cheek, glinting silver. "Then hold me."
He kissed her forehead, breathing her in. "You're my anchor, Nia. No illusion could ever take me from you."
Her lips trembled into a faint smile. "Then prove it."
They moved to her chambers, closing the door behind them, leaving the world of whispers and schemes outside. Moonlight bathed the room in pale silver. Andy turned, and Nia was already there, her gaze raw with longing, fear, and love.
He kissed her. At first it was gentle, an unspoken reassurance, but soon it deepened, fierce and desperate. She clung to him, fingers knotting in his shirt, pulling him closer as if afraid he would vanish.
Between kisses, her breath came ragged. "You're mine, Andy. No matter what mask she wears, no matter what lies she spins—you're mine."
"Yours," he whispered back, lips trailing her jaw and throat. "Always."
They stumbled to the bed, laughter breaking between kisses when he struck the frame with his knee. The sound melted into a sigh as he lowered her onto the sheets, their lips never parting. Moonlight painted their bodies, soft and luminous, silver over warm skin.
Clothes loosened, discarded without thought. Skin met skin, warm and trembling, alive. Their kisses turned to gasps, to whispered promises, to a rhythm older than words.
Where Kayla had offered false sunlight and conjured laughter, Nia gave him fire. Real fire—fierce, consuming, undeniable.
Her hands traced the scars on his back, cherishing them as proof of his truth. His lips worshipped every line of her body as if engraving each into memory, ensuring no illusion could ever overwrite them.
They moved together, again and again, like waves striking the same shore, like flame and wind feeding one another. Every pause turned to another embrace, every embrace to another vow whispered through the night.
"Mine."
"Yours."
"Always."
Hours passed in fire and tenderness. Each time they fell into each other's arms, it was not for release alone, but for certainty. For the desperate need to be real when lies pressed in from all sides.
Finally, they collapsed together, breathless, sweat-slicked, tangled in sheets. Nia rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. Andy stroked her hair slowly, his lips brushing the top of her head.
The silence was different now—no longer heavy with guilt, but warm with promise.
"If she tries again," Nia whispered, voice fierce even in its softness, "I'll burn her illusions to ash."
Andy tilted her face up, kissing her lips gently, lingeringly. "Then I'll burn them with you."
The System stirred, not cold but warm, resonating with their bond.
Bond Progression: 106% → 112%]
*Anchor reinforced.*
*New Buff: Illusion Resistance.*
*New Passive: Shared Dream — bonded partners immune to false memories when together.*
Nia's eyes fluttered shut, a faint, satisfied smile curving her lips. "Then let her come. She'll never have you."
Andy kissed her hair once more, whispering into the night. "She never will. Because I've already chosen."
The moon slipped lower, wrapping them in silver. For the first time since Kayla had appeared, they slept without fear, two souls resting as one—untouchable, unbroken, undeniable.