Three children stood there in silence.

  They didn’t look at one another, and they didn’t speak.

  They only watched this way—quietly, without moving.

  Aira closed her eyes for a moment.

  “That pale child… that one felt especially wrong.”

  Her voice dropped.

  “The way it talked, the look in its eyes, the way it reacted… it didn’t feel like a living child.”

  Rynel stared at the child without a word.

  Pale skin.

  Hollow eyes.

  And a smile with no emotion in it at all.

  “…I think that one is the center of this rift.”

  He muttered under his breath.

  At that, the child slowly turned its head.

  This time, it didn’t smile.

  It peeled off the expression it had been imitating and looked at them as it truly was.

  “I think so too.”

  A short sentence.

  No feeling inside it.

  No joy, no anger, no fear.

  Rynel asked again.

  “Then what about the other two?”

  Aira hesitated, then spoke carefully.

  “The other two… are real.

  Their memories are tangled and they’re lost, but they were definitely children trapped in here.”

  She looked at them.

  “They can go back.

  Their parents are still waiting.”

  Aira lowered her gaze, then lifted it again toward the pale child.

  “And that one… was never meant to exist.”

  Her voice stayed low as she added,

  “The man in the second house only *thought* he had a child.”

  Rynel drew in a breath.

  “So… it’s just the result of memory manipulation?”

  As soon as he said it, one of the children spoke.

  “…Do you know me?”

  The voice was quiet.

  No tears, no tremor.

  Just a being that didn’t even know who it was—asking someone else to define it.

  Rynel fell silent, then looked to Aira.

  “Aira.

  If this rift closes, the altered memories will disappear too.

  A child that never existed will vanish.”

  In that instant, the pale child’s form began to waver.

  The rift in the space writhed again.

  The evil spirit was about to show its true face.

  The pale child spoke.

  “You can’t go back anymore.”

  The moment those words ended, the space started to crack—like thin glass.

  Spiderweb fractures spread in every direction.

  *BOOM!*

  The ground split, and the fog spiraled upward.

  From within those fractures, the real shape emerged.

  Its arms were long, its fingertips sharpened into points,

  and it abandoned the form of a human child entirely.

  An evil spirit—

  a being that makes people forget their names, gnaws at memories, and grows stronger.

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  The master of this mental rift.

  It spoke.

  “Memory is pain.

  A name is baggage.

  And identity… is nothing but a blade that stabs the one who holds it.”

  Rynel exhaled once, then answered.

  “Even so… we won’t let it go.

  That’s proof we’re *alive*.”

  “Hah.”

  The evil spirit’s eyes narrowed.

  “How… foolish.”

  With that, the entire space began to tremble.

  The air itself shifted—war drawing near.

  Rynel stepped forward.

  His blue eyes lit up as he read the flow in the air.

  The surrounding mana particles started to quiver.

  “As long as that spirit remains, this rift will continue.”

  Aira said.

  The evil spirit smiled.

  It wasn’t cold, and it wasn’t warm.

  It felt like a meaningless imitation—habit, not intent.

  “This is my world.

  Do you really think anything will change just because you struggle?”

  It raised a hand, and the space warped.

  The ground vanished beneath Aira’s feet.

  Rynel’s vision smeared, everything in front of him blurring into a mess.

  *It’s erasing memories.*

  No—*covering* them was the better word.

  The evil spirit didn’t strike.

  It only wrapped around them.

  Like fog—over everything they were.

  “Forget.

  You were here.

  And you don’t need a name or a promise anymore.”

  Aira pressed a hand to her forehead.

  Her head spun, as if her memories were scattering.

  But then—Rynel’s voice rang out.

  “Aira, no.

  Stay with me. Don’t let the rift swallow you.”

  His shout carried a mana cadence that shook the center of her mind.

  ◇

  At that same moment, in reality, the spirit-stone flared.

  In Ivela’s hand, it pulsed like a heartbeat.

  The light moved as if it were alive, spreading into the air.

  And a magic circle formed on its own.

  No one touched it—yet a refined, exact shape rose into existence.

  Then, inside the rift, light wrapped around Aira.

  A protective barrier born from resonance with the spirit-stone began to pull her wavering identity back toward its center.

  “Mind Ward. Memory Anchor—binding, activate.”

  A formless sigil spun around her, enclosing her like a ring.

  The evil spirit stepped forward and spread its hand.

  At the same time, a dense wave surged from deep within the rift.

  The space twisted, and a black fissure opened.

  From that fissure, formless “nameless shadows” crawled out.

  Forgotten memories, erased names, fragments of scattered selves.

  They imitated human shapes, writhing as if asking what they once had been.

  “Unravel her!”

  The evil spirit’s command dropped.

  The shadows lunged for Aira all at once.

  Rynel shouted.

  “I’ll hold them off. Focus on the ward!”

  The telekinesis roaring around him condensed in an instant.

  “I’m pushing them back.”

  With a single gesture, the air bent.

  The formless shadows were caught in pressure and swept across the ground.

  *CRACKLE—!*

  Telekinesis slammed into them.

  Their shapes twisted, then scattered like mist.

  But as if time rewound, the darkness that had shattered

  began to gather again—slowly, deliberately—into one mass.

  And the moment it finished reforming, it charged faster than before.

  “They… keep regenerating.

  Is it because we’re inside the rift?”

  Meanwhile, Aira accelerated the rotation of her magic circle.

  The light-filled ring spun around her.

  A sigil spread from her fingertips, vibrating as if scanning the entire rift.

  Then she felt it—

  the flow of air being pulled toward a single point.

  From there, an irritatingly sharp residue of mana kept leaking out.

  “…Rynel.”

  She lifted her head.

  “That way.

  The mana that’s been manipulating memories… it’s still flowing from there.”

  Rynel’s eyes flashed.

  He closed them for a beat and sharpened his sense.

  He could feel it clearly—the flow being drawn into one place.

  He stopped the battle of attrition with the shadows and looked up.

  His gaze pierced a point deep inside the rift.

  “Good…”

  His voice came out low and rough.

  Blue telekinesis gathered at his feet.

  With a single leap, he cut through the shadows and surged deeper into the rift.

  The evil spirit’s expression flickered—just for a moment.

  Then it snapped its hand out on instinct.

  “…Stop.”

  Fog condensed into blades

  and rose to block his path inside the rift.

  The evil spirit was trying to protect *something* behind it.

  A mana crystal.

  Aira recognized it at once.

  “That has to be… the core of this rift.”

  Rynel’s eyes narrowed.

  He raised his hand and focused his power.

  “Target confirmed.”

  A short, hard sentence.

  Then the blue light compressed at his fingertips.

  The air swelled and warped,

  and a condensed force shot straight toward the mana crystal.

  *BOOM!!*

  With a violent impact, cracks spread across the crystal.

  Light leaked out, and the entire rift shook.

  The evil spirit’s form lurched.

  Its fingertips trembled, and for the first time, unease passed through its eyes.

  The pale shape was shoved back.

  Its outline distorted—turning transparent for a split second.

  Then the rift itself began to twist.

  The structure that had been holding it together

  looked like it was bursting from the inside out.

  Light poured through the black fissures, and the frame of the rift collapsed.

  The fog where the children stood began to thin as well.

  And in that space, a beam of light—connected to reality—quietly started to open.

  The evil spirit staggered backward.

  “This… isn’t over…”

  It tried to raise the fog again, squeezing out its last strength.

  But—

  *KRAAAASH!!*

  A force from outside tore into the space.

  Beyond the rift, another presence stepped in.

  A white robe.

  A red magic circle.

  And a shining gem held in one hand.

  The figure spoke quietly.

  “Seal target confirmed.

  Alias: Pale Remnant.”

  The evil spirit’s eyes shook.

  “You… Royal Mage Association…?”

  The figure lifted the gem higher.

  “Dimensional interference terminated.

  Sealing begins.”

  *BOOM!!*

  Light exploded.

  In the blink of an eye, the evil spirit’s form was dragged into the light.

  But this wasn’t simple destruction.

  In that brief instant,

  the black-twisted shape split—something separating from within.

  A child.

  A true form that had been trapped inside the pale shell.

  The evil spirit’s presence rapidly faded,

  and the black power was absorbed into a small crystalline shard, as if being pulled in.

  *CLINK.*

  A transparent sealing stone dropped through the air.

  Inside it, a dim shadow pooled.

  And what remained—

  was one child, collapsed in white silence.

  Quietly.

  As if it had been there from the beginning.

  Aira and Rynel stood there, watching without a word.

  After the evil spirit was sealed,

  the entire space seemed to hold its breath.

  The thick fog receded, and a calm silence flowed in.

  Rynel steadied his breathing and murmured,

  “…Is it over?”

  Aira lifted her head slowly.

  Her gaze stopped—

  the child who had been standing there opened its eyes,

  and beside it, the other two children gradually came into view.

  At last, all three were back in place.

  The two looked dazed, still confused.

  And one child… quietly lowered its head.

  Aira stepped closer and spoke softly.

  “…Are you okay?”

  The brown-haired girl raised her head.

  A blurred mix of fear and relief sat in her eyes—along with confusion, not knowing where she belonged.

  “Um… why… am I here?”

  “It’s okay now.”

  Rynel said quietly.

  One child’s lips trembled first.

  “…I miss my mom.”

  Tears gathered in the other child’s eyes too.

  “Dad… he’s still waiting, right?”

  Their shoulders shook in small bursts.

  No one declared they would cry,

  but the tears came anyway.

  Without sound—

  only the soft, broken rhythm of sobbing filling the space.

  But the third child stayed where it was.

  No movement.

  No words.

  Only its eyes, fixed on Aira.

  Aira stood in front of it.

  “You weren’t a child that truly existed.

  You were a thought born in the gaps of memory—

  merged with that spirit.”

  The child’s eyes quivered slightly.

  Aira lowered her gaze for a moment, then shook her head.

  “But I can’t say your existence was only a lie.”

  She drew a slow breath.

  “I’m sorry… you don’t have a reality to return to.

  But the feelings you left behind, the traces you made—

  we needed them to end this rift.”

  The child gave a small nod.

  “Then… me…

  I have to disappear now, don’t I?”

  Aira answered, quiet and steady.

  “Probably…”

  The child’s lips trembled.

  It lowered its eyes as if swallowing something down.

  And its form began to seep into the light.

  Then, the child spoke—barely moving its lips.

  “…Could you… remember me?”

  There was no desperation in the question.

  No hope, no expectation.

  Just a tiny wish—left behind at the end.

  Aira took one slow breath.

  Then she said, softly, firmly—

  “Yes.

  Even if no one else can remember you… I will.”

  “You were here.

  And even if it was only for a moment, you faced me.”

  The child’s eyes trembled once.

  And for the first time, there was a quiet peace inside them—

  no fear, no unease.

  “…That’s enough.”

  With that, its form scattered gently.

  Into the light.

  Like fog.

  Leaving no resistance behind as it faded away.