The gate yawned open like the mouth of some ancient creature, teeth long vanished but hunger eternal.
Alpha stepped forward.
He did not grip Vanitas tightly, there was no use pretending readiness for what lay beyond. The boy hesitated, eyes locked on the strange city walls. He didn't ask for reassurance. That was long past. He simply followed, his steps silent, his breath controlled.
They entered.
The air changed.
It wasn't colder, it was cleaner. Too clean.
The kind of clean that came from absence.
The street before them was paved with white stone, unmarred by blood, ash, or time. Buildings rose in perfect symmetry on either side, their windows dark, but unbroken. Doors stood slightly ajar, as if someone had just stepped out, and never returned.
Not a whisper of dust.
Not a flutter of cloth.
Just stillness. Unnatural. Unsettling.
The boy whispered, "It's like it's waiting for us."
Alpha said nothing.
He already knew.
Mirrored Silence
As they moved deeper, something shifted.
It was subtle. A reflection in a window that didn't match their movement. A sound behind them that echoed before their steps.
The boy reached for Alpha's sleeve. "That house. The one with the red curtain. We passed it already."
Alpha turned his head. The house stood perfectly still, curtain swaying gently in a breeze that didn't touch anything else.
They kept walking.
Two turns later, there it was again.
The red curtain. Moving.
Vanitas pulsed once.
Then again.
Alpha turned sharply and slammed the door open.
Inside...
An empty chair.
A table set for three. Bowls of untouched food, steaming hot.
No dust. No age.
A child's toy on the floor.
The boy stepped in beside him, eyes wide. "Alpha…?"
He bent down to pick up the toy.
The air snapped.
Everything shifted.
The door slammed shut behind them.
Alpha spun, hand on Vanitas, but now the room was different.
A fire burned in the hearth
The table was full of people.
A woman, head bowed. A man, pale and still. A child, motionless between them.
Not statues. Not corpses.
Echoes.
Trapped in a moment, frozen.
The boy gasped. "They're… they're not real, right?"
Alpha's grip tightened on Vanitas.
"No."
But they were.
For one horrifying second, all three lifted their heads..
And looked at him.
Not the boy.
Just Alpha.
Their mouths moved, but no sound came.
Only a feeling.
Grief.
Then rage.
Then fire.
The room ignited in blue flame, impossible and silent, but Alpha grabbed the boy and burst through the door just as the house unraveled, warping inward on itself like it had never existed.
They stood in the street again.
Panting. Shaken.
The boy looked up at him, trembling. "What was that?"
Alpha didn't answer.
Vanitas was humming again.
Louder now.
Not warning him away.
But calling him forward.
The Plaza of Masks
They followed the sword's pull.
Every step into the heart of Elaris felt like walking deeper into a story being written in reverse, pages tearing themselves from a book, rebuilding scenes that should have stayed forgotten.
They emerged into a wide circular plaza.
Statues surrounded them. Twelve of them. Each wore a different mask.
One of joy.
One of sorrow.
One of rage.
One of madness.
One of serenity.
And so on.
Each statue had no face beneath the mask, only polished obsidian.
Reflections.
Alpha saw himself in every one.
But only one statue moved.
Its hand lifted.
Pointed.
To the center of the plaza.
A pedestal.
And atop it, a mirror.
Cracked in three places.
The boy held his breath.
Alpha stepped toward it.
The Mirror
As he approached, the city shifted again.
Not around him.
In him.
He felt it in his chest, something old. Familiar. Like remembering a nightmare from childhood that you always assumed was a dream, only to realize it wasn't.
The mirror shimmered.
He looked.
And the moment his gaze met its surface,
He saw himself.
But not as he was.
He saw himself bathed in fire, Vanitas in hand, eyes glowing with something inhuman.
The boy's body at his feet, unmoving.
Blood.
Everywhere.
And in the distance, Elaris burned.
He staggered back.
The mirror cracked further, the image shattering.
Vanitas vibrated violently.
Alpha dropped to one knee, gripping the sword's hilt as pain lanced through his skull.
A voice screamed in his head, not his own.
"YOU MUST NOT FAIL AGAIN."
Then silence.
Footsteps
When he opened his eyes, the plaza was empty.
The statues gone.
The boy stood by his side, wide-eyed, silent.
"What… did you see?" Alpha asked, voice hoarse.
The boy shook his head. "Nothing. Just you. Kneeling."
Alpha stood slowly.
The mirror was gone.
Replaced by a single phrase, etched into the pedestal's stone.
THE FIRST TEST IS MEMORY.THE SECOND WILL BE TRUTH.
Behind them, footsteps echoed.
And a familiar voice.
"You saw it, didn't you?"
Alpha turned.
Selene stood at the edge of the plaza.
But this time, she didn't wear her hood.
And her armor was stained.
Burnt.
Like she had already walked through the fire he had just seen.