Chapter 13
The wind howled through the crumbling rooftops as Lina stood her ground, facing the figures closing in. Footsteps, the click of weapons loading, orders barked in distorted tones—it all rang clear, like time had slowed, and each second pressed against her skin.
She should be afraid. But instead, something strange filled her—calm.
The light in her hand pulsed—steady, warm, not blinding, not wild. It was controlled. It was as if the power inside her had finally understood that she had accepted it.
A loud explosion rang out in front of her—the steel door burst open, and the first one appeared: armored in black, eyes glowing red, no longer human, if it ever had been.
She stepped back.
Not out of fear. But because a growl echoed from behind the cracked wall.
Not mechanical. Not man-made.
The air shifted—dense and briny, like sea wind laced with ash.
And then she heard it.
A heartbeat.
But it wasn't hers.
Thump.
Thump.
The wall split apart. A claw emerged—black as night, glowing faint blue along vein-like patterns. And then it stepped through.
A creature, three times the height of a man, its back arched, covered in scales and starlight patterns, with snake-like eyes that watched her—full of intent. Full of will.
The hunters hesitated.
Someone screamed, "Tri-chimera! Red-level formation—RETREAT, RET—"
Too late.
The beast roared. Not with sound—but with force. Glass shattered, the ground cracked, and metal twisted like paper.
Lina barely shielded her eyes as a vortex ripped through the alley.
But it didn't strike her.
When she looked again, it was standing in front of her—between her and the soldiers. Its skeletal wings spread wide, its breath colder than the void.
It was protecting her.
Somehow… it knew her.
She froze. "You… know who I am?"
It didn't answer with words—but instead, a vision bloomed in her mind: a gate, suspended in nothingness, ringed in fire. And her—another version of herself—walking through it, fearless.
A memory.
Not hers.
Its.
It had seen her before. In another crossing.
Lina placed a hand over her chest. Her heartbeat and the creature's—they matched. Not a bond. Not control.
An ancient pact reawakening.
Behind them, the surviving soldiers began to flee, panicked. Some fired blindly—more in fear than hope.
She didn't stop them.
Didn't need to.
She turned to the creature, its eyes twin abysses reflecting the weight of infinite worlds.
"…Take me," she whispered.
It turned without a sound, as if it had been waiting for that all along.
Lina followed. She didn't know where it would lead. Didn't know who else she would face—what version of herself was waiting next.
She only knew this:
The next gate was open.
And this time—she wasn't walking through it alone.
---
The creature led her through the ruins, its massive form moving silently, as if it were part of the shadows themselves. The world around them felt distorted—blurred, as if reality was thickening, like the edges of a dream slipping into another. The remnants of shattered buildings and abandoned streets were swallowed by darkness, while dim lights flickered above, as though the very fabric of the city was losing its grip on existence. It was the kind of place where time didn't flow in a straight line—it fractured, splintered into countless paths, none of them quite aligned.
Lina's breath came in shallow bursts, her heart still racing from the chase. Her body was exhausted, yet there was a strange, persistent clarity in her mind, as if she could see more than she ever had before. The power inside her stirred restlessly, shifting like an ever-growing storm—unpredictable, but no longer entirely foreign. She didn't fear it anymore. It was a part of her, bound in a way she couldn't fully explain, but she knew it was hers to command.
The creature beside her moved with purpose, its glowing patterns shifting with every step. It was leading her somewhere—somewhere important—but Lina wasn't sure what that place was. She only knew that it was a place she had to reach.
They walked in silence for what felt like hours, the world around them shifting and melting like watercolors. There were no other sounds, save for the occasional distant rumble, a sign of the battle that was happening somewhere far away—one that Lina no longer had any part in. She had left it behind. The only thing that mattered now was the path ahead of her, and the growing sense of familiarity she felt as they drew closer to whatever awaited her.
Then, without warning, the creature stopped. It turned to face her, its eyes gleaming like twin moons in the darkness. It nodded toward the sky, where the stars seemed to swirl, forming patterns she couldn't understand.
"You're here," it said—not with a voice, but with a presence that pressed into her mind. "The crossroads."
Lina looked up. Above her, the sky rippled like the surface of a pool disturbed by an unseen force. The stars twisted, folding in on themselves, and suddenly, she saw it: a massive, swirling gate, its edges torn like the fabric of reality itself. It pulsed with light—strange, unfamiliar light that seemed to come from all directions at once.
"The gate," she whispered, her voice trembling. She could feel the energy radiating from it, and it was both terrifying and mesmerizing.
"Beyond this gate," the creature spoke again, its form shimmering slightly, "you will face the truth of your choice."
Lina's heart skipped a beat. The truth of her choice—what did that mean? She had made so many choices. She had walked through countless doors. But the weight of this one felt different. It wasn't just about survival anymore. It wasn't just about finding Kai or protecting the worlds she loved.
This was about her.
The very core of who she was—and what she was becoming.
She stepped forward, drawn by an invisible force. The air crackled with energy as she neared the gate. Her hand reached out, fingers grazing the shimmering edges of the light. A pulse of warmth surged through her, and for a moment, it felt as though the entire universe was holding its breath.
And then—the gate opened.
A wave of power washed over her, filling her senses, drowning her in a flood of memories—images of lives she had lived, people she had been, and places she had visited. All of it rushed through her like a torrent, leaving her breathless. Faces flashed before her eyes—Kai's face, but older, different. Her own face, too—strange, yet achingly familiar.
But then—one face stood out.
The face of the other Lina. The version of her she had seen earlier, standing before the burning gate. The one who had spoken of the vessel, the key, the gate.
That face smiled at her, but it was a smile full of sorrow.
"You can still change it," the other Lina's voice echoed in her mind. "You can still choose."
Lina's pulse quickened. Choose. Choose what? There were no answers here—only fragments, pieces of a puzzle that she couldn't yet understand.
But the gate was opening wider now, and she had no choice but to step through.
The moment her foot crossed the threshold, a jolt of energy surged through her. Her body trembled, every fiber of her being screaming in protest, yet she pushed forward. The world twisted again—blurring, shifting—until suddenly, the darkness cleared, and she found herself standing in a vast, endless void.
The creature beside her was gone.
And in the distance—there—a figure appeared. Tall, cloaked in darkness, their face obscured by a mask made of obsidian.
"You've come," the figure said, their voice like the whisper of a thousand winds. "Just in time."
Lina took a step forward. "Who are you?" she demanded. "What is this place?"
The figure raised a hand, and the world around them flickered. In an instant, the void was filled with endless mirrors—reflections of herself, each one different, each one alive.
"You've crossed many paths," the figure said. "But this is where all choices converge. Here, you will decide who you truly are."
Lina's heart pounded. "I don't understand."
"You will," the figure replied softly. "When the time comes."
And just as quickly as it had appeared, the figure dissolved into the air, leaving her alone in the center of the mirrored world.
Alone.
But as Lina stood there, staring at the endless reflections of herself, something inside her shifted. The power inside her pulsed—no longer just a force to be contained, but something alive. Something she could embrace.
The mirrors began to fracture, each one splitting into more images—more choices. More versions of herself. And Lina knew then, with a certainty that reached deep into her core:
The decision was hers. But which version of herself would she choose to be?
And with that, she stepped forward into the unknown, ready to face the truth of her power, her purpose, and the person she was meant to become.
Lina stood at the edge of the void, the weight of the choices pressing down on her like an unspoken promise. She felt the surge of power inside her, not as a threat, but as something she could now wield. It wasn't just a force—it was a part of her, and for the first time, she didn't want to run from it.
The figure before her, cloaked in shadow and radiance, seemed to see through her—into the very essence of who she was becoming. It didn't speak, but the silence between them was filled with understanding. This was her moment. This was the reckoning she had feared for so long.
"Do you understand now?" The voice came, soft but unmistakable, as if it had always been waiting for her to listen.
Lina took a slow, steady breath, grounding herself in the swirling chaos. The air was still, heavy with the weight of what was to come. She stepped forward, each movement deliberate, each heartbeat syncing with the ancient pulse of the power flowing through her.
"I've always been running from it," she whispered, her voice quiet but resolute. "But now, I'm not afraid."
The figure nodded, its form flickering as if it was both there and not. "Fear is a shadow of the past," it said, the words cutting through the weight in the air. "The true challenge is not in what you fear, but in what you choose to become when you no longer hide from yourself."
Lina's eyes locked onto the figure. It wasn't a question anymore of who she was, but what she would shape herself into. The truth wasn't a burden. It was the force that would forge her path—no longer an echo of the past, but the promise of something new.
She could feel the pull, the pull of the unknown, but it wasn't a force that commanded her. It was a force that called her to decide, to be what she had always been meant to be.
And for the first time, she embraced it—not with resistance, but with certainty.
The reflection of who she was—the girl, the protector, the gate—no longer fractured. She was whole.
Lina's breath steadied. "Then I'll choose," she said. "I choose to face it."
The figure stepped back, its form dissolving into the air, leaving her alone, yet not empty. The power inside her surged again, a rising tide she could finally trust.
It was no longer about the power she held, but about the person she was becoming.