The light in the Core dimmed once the nine-tailed kitsune—now fully merged with Kaela—folded its celestial tails and receded into her shadow like a breath returning to the body. The surreal zone, for the first time since they'd entered, stilled. No more warped corridors. No more illusions echoing from broken memories. Just quiet—thick, reverent quiet.
Toji stood with Kaela in the center of the platform. Her hands were still trembling slightly, though her eyes had never looked clearer. Her breathing was steady now, as if a pressure she'd carried for years had finally loosened its grip.
He turned to her.
"You okay?" he asked, voice low.
Kaela didn't answer right away. Instead, she looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers as if trying to understand the feeling of something new threaded into her skin.
"The silence feels different," she murmured. "It's not empty anymore."
Toji nodded once. He could feel it too. The entire surreal zone felt… neutralized, as if Kaela's bond with the kitsune had reset the rhythm of this space.
But more than that—it felt like something had accepted her. Not because she conquered it, but because she understood it.
The Mnemo-Eye behind Toji blinked, subtly swirling with color.
"She's balanced," it whispered to him, even though Kaela could not hear. "She met her mirror and did not shatter."
Kaela took a step forward, then glanced toward him. "You didn't need to come back for me, you know."
Toji raised an eyebrow. "You'd have done it for me."
She gave him a quiet, dry smile. "I would've yelled at you if you didn't."
They both looked toward the edge of the Core, where the portal leading out of the surreal zone had begun to materialize—its borders rippling like a heat haze, showing flashes of Valemont's outer forest beyond.
But before they could move, Kaela paused. Her brow furrowed.
"What is it?" Toji asked.
She tilted her head, her new Echo—visible only as a shimmer of white threads around her outline—whispering something he couldn't hear.
"The Core's giving us a choice," she said. "It can close behind us… or stay open."
Toji frowned. "Stay open for what?"
"For others. Ones who come here later. Lost ones. Ones like I was."
She didn't elaborate—but she didn't need to. The surreal zone, for all its warping chaos, had been something like a mirror labyrinth. A place where suppressed fear, forgotten grief, and unresolved identity boiled to the surface in dreamlike storms. For her, it had been a prison.
Now… it could become a crucible.
Toji glanced toward the swirling exit. "You want to leave it open?"
She nodded. "Not everyone will make it. But someone should be the first who did."
He didn't argue. He simply looked at the Mnemo-Eye behind him, which blinked once in agreement.
"Then let's go," he said.
As they stepped through the threshold, the surreal light behind them dimmed—not closed, not sealed, but watching.
⸻
They emerged into dusk.
Golden light spilled across Valemont's outer treetops. The wind was crisp with evening chill. Faculty and Echo-bound healers stood waiting at the perimeter—alert, some anxious, many surprised. Lysara was there too, arms folded, her longcoat snapping in the breeze.
Toji and Kaela stumbled forward, the spell-barrier dissolving behind them.
"You made it," Lysara said flatly.
Kaela nodded, then nearly collapsed. Toji caught her before she hit the ground.
"She bonded in the Core," he explained.
Lysara's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Instead, she gestured, and two Echo-bound healers moved to take Kaela gently from Toji's arms.
"She'll be watched," Lysara said. "The bond is too new. Unstable, possibly volatile."
Toji didn't argue. He only glanced at Kaela as she was carried off. Her eyes found his one last time before she vanished into the ward tents.
He stood there a moment longer, the Mnemo-Eye floating silently over his shoulder.
"You've changed," Lysara said to him then.
"So have they," he replied, glancing back at the dissolving barrier of the surreal zone.
She studied him. "You're not like the others. Even here."
"No," he said, "I'm not."
Her voice was gentler when she next spoke. "The headmaster wants to see you tomorrow."
Toji's jaw tightened. "Let me guess—about the Eye."
"And the kitsune. And you. And what's coming."
He looked skyward. The clouds were starting to part, the first stars appearing above the academy spires.
Something had shifted.
This wasn't just about Echoes and class ranks anymore.
It never had been.
⸻
That night, Toji sat alone on the training field. The students of the bounded had been granted rest after the surreal dive. Most were still being debriefed or recovering. He preferred the quiet.
The Mnemo-Eye hovered beside him, casting faint shadowy ripples on the grass.
"You didn't stop her," Toji said.
The Eye blinked once.
"She didn't need to be stopped."
"Why did the kitsune choose her?"
"Because she asked for nothing."
Toji exhaled slowly.
That made sense. Kaela had never begged for power. Never claimed to deserve more. She had entered the Core with her fear exposed—and was rewarded not for her strength, but for her honesty.
That kind of power was dangerous.
And beautiful.
"You're thinking too much again," came a familiar voice.
Toji turned to see Kaela approaching, a bandage on her right shoulder, her eyes slightly glassy but focused.
"You should be resting," he said.
"So should you."
She sat beside him without asking. For a moment, they both said nothing, watching the Mnemo-Eye spiral gently above the grass.
Then she leaned back and said, "I never thanked you."
"You don't need to."
"I do. Not for saving me. For staying."
Toji didn't reply. But his silence was something closer to understanding than dismissal.
The stars glimmered above them. The academy was quiet. And though the surreal zone remained, it felt less like a threat now—and more like a warning.
Kaela turned to him once more.
"What's next for us?"
Toji looked toward the main spire of Valemont, where the headmaster's tower loomed.
"We rise," he said. "And we get ready."
"For what?"
"For the ones who are watching."
Because deep in the shadows of the world, something had noticed.
Not what Kaela had become.
But what she'd chosen.
And not what Toji had done.
But what he might do next.