Ryn stood there for several seconds longer than necessary.

The cathedral was empty.

The air still held warmth, like the echo of a presence that hadn't fully faded yet.

Kato.

The name surfaced unbidden, and Ryn immediately frowned.

That was impossible.

One moment the boy had been sitting across from him, the next he had just up and vanished.

It was like…a mirage, one that usually played tricks on travelers.

Ryn exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers against his temple.

"…Great," he muttered. "Now I'm talking to ghosts."

The broken cathedral remained stubbornly real. Cracked stone pillars. A headless statue at the far end, its features eroded beyond recognition.

Then something tugged at his attention.

Ryn's gaze dropped.

There, right where Kato had been sitting, rested a small crystal sphere.

It was no larger than his palm, perfectly round, like a droplet of glass frozen mid-fall. It hadn't been there before. He was certain of that.

Ryn crouched slowly, eyes narrowed.

There was no killing intent or hidden traps.

Beside the sphere lay a thin strip of paper.

Ryn picked it up first.

A single sentence, written in clean, deliberate strokes.

I want you to know.

Ryn stared at the message.

A dry laugh slipped out of him before he could stop it.

"Of course you do."

Every instinct he had, every hard-earned lesson from his first life, was screaming at him to leave it alone. To walk away.

He ignored all of them.

Simply because of curiosity. Ryn knew he had to get more information, something, anything to give him an edge.

It seemed like Kato knew more about the Evernight, and Ryn was willing to risk it to find out.

He reached forward and touched it.

His hand simply… slipped inside, as if the crystal had accepted it.

Ryn tried to pull back.

Too late.

His arm followed. Then his shoulder. Then the rest of him, his body condensing as the world folded inward around him.

The cathedral vanished.

The world turned black.

***

Ryn woke up to a hand shaking his shoulder.

"Hey. Wake up."

His eyes snapped open.

For half a heartbeat, panic surged within him. He reached for Snow but realized…nothing was there.

"Huh?" he breathed.

"Seriously, Nico," a voice said, closer now. "You're gonna miss dinner again."

A shadow fell across his vision.

Ryn blinked, squinting as a face came into focus above him. A kid, around twelve years old. He had black hair that fell messily over his green eyes.

Ryn jerked backward instinctively, and smacked his head lightly against something solid.

Wood.

Rough bark pressed against his spine as he realized he'd been sitting with his back against a tree.

Ryn noticed instantly the pain he had due to his back injury was gone.

Something was wrong.

He stared down at himself.

His legs were shorter. His arms were thinner. His hands, resting awkwardly in his lap, were small.

"…What," he whispered.

The boy sighed. "Did you seriously fall asleep out here again?"

Ryn looked back up at him.

That alone made his chest tighten.

The kid crossed his arms, tilting his head. "You've gotta stop sneaking off like this."

Sneaking off.

The phrase echoed, and something stirred in the back of Ryn's mind. The sense of sneaking off, to choose quiet over the bustle.

This isn't my body.

The thought landed with terrifying clarity.

Ryn swallowed and pushed himself up.

The motion felt wrong immediately. His balance was off, center of gravity unfamiliar. He wobbled, catching himself against the tree before he could topple over.

The boy's arms were outreached, holding it there in case Ryn fell.

"You good?"

"I'm—" Ryn started.

The voice that came out wasn't his.

It was higher, lighter, like a boy that hadn't gone through his voice crack yet.

Slowly, carefully, he reached inward again, just anything that confirmed that he was someone else.

Nothing answered.

Yep, I was right.

"Nico?" the boy said, frowning now. "You're acting weird."

Ryn forced himself to breathe.

Think. Don't panic.

He looked around properly for the first time.

A wide field of grass stretched out around them, dotted with small white and yellow flowers swaying gently in the breeze. The tree behind him stood alone at the edge of it all, old and broad.

This wasn't a dream.

Ryn swallowed.

"Sorry."

The tension drained from the boy almost immediately.

"Alright. Come on."

He turned and started walking, then paused, glancing back. "You coming?"

Ryn hesitated for half a second before getting up and following.

They didn't get far before Ryn slowed.

The path curved downward, away from the lone tree and the quiet field. As they descended, the ground beneath Ryn's feet changed. Grass thinned out, replaced by worn stone steps.

Stone.

Ryn's gaze lifted.

The field behind them sat on a natural rise—a wide, open platform carved cleanly from the mountainside. Too clean to be accidental.

The tree at its center wasn't wild growth either. As evident by it being the only tree there.

His chest tightened.

Ahead, the world opened up.

A city stretched beneath them, built directly into the stone mountains. Structures weren't stacked upward, but inward—homes, halls, and corridors carved into the rock itself. Bridges spanned open gaps, connecting terraces and walkways.

Light filtered down from far above in thin shafts, slipping through natural openings in the stone. It was neither bright or dark, just…acceptable.

Ryn stopped walking.

The kid in front took a few more steps before noticing. "What's wrong?"

Ryn didn't answer immediately.

Because he could see it now.

The angles of the terraces. The broken archways he'd walked through earlier—whole here. And the massive central structure at the city's heart, still standing proud instead of shattered and hollow.

He had stood in this city just a few minutes ago.

When it was dead.

This was the city.

The same one, that according to Kato, was built to endure the Evernight.

Which meant…this was the beginning of everything.

A cold certainty settled over him.

This wasn't some random memory Kato had thrown him into.

It was the First Evernight.

Ryn exhaled slowly.

So this is what you wanted me to see.

The boy shifted, clearly uncomfortable with the silence. "Are you sure you're okay, Nico?"

A voice in the back of Ryn's mind spoke as a name crept into his subconsciousness.

Mazin.

Ryn blinked.

Mazin was still looking at him, brows knit together in concern. "You're really acting strange today. Did something happen?"

Ryn opened his mouth.

He meant to deflect. To give a non-answer.

But the words that came weren't his.

"Sorry," he said softly. "Just…wanted to take a breather.

"Yeah," Mazin replied. "It does feel good under the tree, huh?"

Ryn hesitated.

"It kind of reminded me of a story the Father used to tell us," he said slowly.

"That there were… fields of flowers, endless and reached all the way to the horizon."

Mazin's eyes widened slightly. "Flower fields?"

"That's what he called them."

For a moment, Mazin just stared back at where they came from before continuing forward.

"…Would really love to go there one day."

They walked for a while before approaching an orphanage, its entrance marked by a simple wooden door reinforced with iron bands.

The Father…so they really were orphans.

As they approached, the door opened.

A man stepped out, robes neatly pressed despite their age, hair streaked with gray but eyes bright and alert.

"There you are," he said, relief obvious in his voice. "I was starting to wonder if you two had decided to live outside today."

"Sorry, Father," Mazin said quickly, but he didn't slow down.

Ryn, Nico, felt it immediately.

Mazin angled his body just slightly away. Not enough to be rude or enough to be obvious.

Just enough to be intentional.

The Father's gaze flicked to Ryn. His expression softened. "You alright, Nico?"

Ryn opened his mouth.

Before he could answer, Mazin grabbed his wrist.

"He's fine," Mazin said, already tugging him past. "Just tired."

The Father hesitated for a fraction of a second, then smiled again. "Go on, then. Dinner's almost ready."

Mazin didn't look back.

The interior was warm. The smell of bread and soup hung in the air, mingling with the low murmur of voices. Children moved about in small clusters—some setting bowls, others chasing each other around, a few already eating.

Mazin released Ryn's wrist only long enough to grab his sleeve instead. "Come on."

He dragged him toward a narrow side room tucked just off the main hall. The noise dulled as they passed through the doorway, replaced by quieter voices and the scrape of chairs against stone.

A handful of kids were gathered in the corner, sitting close together like a private island in the middle of the room.

Mazin slowed.

"There," he said. "That's us."

A girl looked up first.

Her hair was tied back tight, practical rather than neat, sharp eyes immediately flicking over Ryn.

"Aria," Mazin said, nodding toward her. "You're late."

She snorted. "You're one to talk."

Ryn managed a small nod in return.

Then his gaze shifted.

One of the boys sat slightly apart from the rest, back against the stone wall, knees drawn up loosely.

It was the same soft face, same blue hair, and same piercing gold eyes.

Ryn's breath caught in his throat.

Kato.

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