“We split into pairs.” Alessia’s command fell crisply across the square, cutting through the lingering crackle of shattered corruption. Her team straightened instinctively—Kael closest, Ianthe twirling her daggers, Eryx checking his blade, Seraphine wiping flour off her face, and Rian flinching at every shadow.
Kael folded his arms. “You think the Architect hid them separately?”
“No,” Alessia said, scanning the twisted streets. “He condensed their illusions into clusters. He likes efficiency.”
Rian nodded nervously. “H-he also likes symbolism. Fear-based layouts. He might gather illusions around meaningful landmarks.”
Kael frowned. “Meaningful how?”
“Places emotionally charged for the victims,” Alessia said. “Homes, memories… regrets.”
Seraphine shuddered. “That’s awful.”
“Yes,” Alessia said calmly. “He specializes in awful.”
Kael stepped beside her. “Then where do we start?”
Alessia looked toward the central plaza—the corrupted sigil was now shattered into dust. Around it, the city had shifted subtly; the illusion veil was gone, revealing details they couldn’t see before: dark windows, flickering lights, and subtle trails of distorted essence.
Three specific trails glowed faintly to her dual sense.
Lunar gray.
Solar gold.
Nocturnal-black.
Three trails.
Three clusters.
Three illusions.
She pointed. “Teams: Ianthe and Seraphine on the left path. Eryx and Rian on the right. Kael and I take the center.”
Seraphine squeaked. “Wait—I’m with Ianthe?! She’s too—too—chaotic!”
Ianthe grinned. “You’ll be fine. Probably.”
Eryx gave Rian a solid, reassuring pat on the shoulder. Rian nearly toppled over. “Don’t worry. If anything attacks, I’ll stab it.”
“Please stab it before it touches me,” Rian muttered. Kael stepped closer to Alessia. “And what exactly are we expecting?”
“Nightmare pockets,” she said. “Illusion loops and fear constructs. Don’t believe anything you see.”
Kael’s jaw clenched. “Understood.”
Alessia looked at the others. “If any of you hear me calling for help, ignore it.”
Seraphine's eyes widened. “But—”
“It won’t be me,” Alessia said. “The Architect mimics perfectly.”
Kael touched the hilt of his sword. “Same goes for me. If you hear my voice in trouble—don’t react.”
Ianthe raised a brow. “What about me?”
Alessia gave her a flat look. “You don’t need to say it. We already know.”
Ianthe smirked. “Good.”
Rian swallowed. “What—what if he mimics me?”
Eryx said, “We’d know.”
Rian frowned. “How?”
“You’re loud when you’re scared.”
Rian looked offended. “I am not—AH—WHAT WAS THAT?!”
A leaf fluttered past him. Ianthe patted his head. “See?”
Alessia turned toward the center trail. “We move.”
Kael nodded once. “With you.”
The teams split. Ianthe dragged Seraphine left. Eryx guided Rian right. Alessia and Kael walked into the center path—toward the deepest part of the corrupted city. The center district was worse. Much worse.
Buildings were twisted like melted wax. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the cobblestones. Every few steps, a faint whisper rippled through the air—fragments of fears, regrets, and thoughts not theirs.
Kael growled low. “He’s trying to distract you.”
“I know,” Alessia said.
A child’s laughter echoed behind them.
Kael’s hand snapped to his blade. A shadow darted by—fast, inhuman, giggling.
Alessia didn’t react. “Ignore it.”
“Alessia, that sounded like—”
“It wasn’t real.”
Kael exhaled, steadying his breath. “He’s targeting your memories again.”
“And failing,” she said calmly. They turned a corner—and froze.
In front of them stood an entire street of illusion-bent objects. 
There are candles floating midair, doors leading to nothing, mirrors reflecting wrong angles, and a glowing spiral of writing on the ground.
And at the center—an illusion sphere. A hovering orb of condensed luminous—trapping a curled, trembling figure inside.
Kael cursed. “A prisoner.”
“Yes.”
They approached. Fog swirled inside the sphere. A woman was crouched in the corner of the illusion—sobbing quietly.
Kael drew closer. “We can break it—”
“No,” Alessia said sharply.
He paused. “What?”
“She’s in her fear,” Alessia said. “If you break it from the outside, it could shatter her mind.”
Kael stepped back at once. “Then what do we do?”
“I go in.”
Kael grabbed her wrist. “Absolutely not.”
“It’s necessary.”
“It’s dangerous.”
She turned to him fully. “Kael.”
He froze at the tone. “I’m not helpless,” she said. “And I don’t need you shielding me from my own decisions.”
His jaw tightened. “I know you’re not helpless,” he said. “That’s why this scares me.”
She lifted his hand from her wrist gently. “I’ll be fine.”
He stared at her for a long moment—then stepped aside. “I’ll guard you.”
She nodded once. Alessia stepped into the sphere. The world bent. Reality twisted. Light bent into shadow and back into light.
Alessia blinked once—and found herself standing inside a bedroom.
A child’s bedroom. Walls painted pastel blue, a rocking horse, stuffed animals in every corner, and a small bed with a lace canopy.
Everything is perfect. Too perfect. A whimper echoed from beneath the bed.
“Please… don’t let it take me… please!”
Alessia walked slowly toward the whimpering child. A little girl—maybe eight, trembling, covering her eyes—rocked back and forth.
When Alessia approached, the girl stiffened. “N-no… no no no… go away!”
Alessia knelt beside her.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” she said gently. “I’m here to get you out.”
The girl peeked between her fingers. “You’re not the monster?”
“No,” Alessia said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
The girl hesitated—then whispered, “It’s coming back.”
Alessia’s eyes narrowed. “What does it look like?”
The girl shook her head violently. “Everything. Everyone. Shadows. Mommy. Daddy. My teacher. My friend. It keeps changing—so I never know who’s real…”
Fear is an illusion type.
Shapeshift-based.
Cruel.
Common for architects’ traps.
Alessia touched the girl’s shoulder, infusing a calm pulse of dual essence.
The girl gasped. “Warm… you feel warm…”
“Do you see my colors?” Alessia asked.
The girl nodded. “Silver… and… and pretty purple.”
“Good.”
That meant the illusion was weakening then—a noise.
Something shifting behind them. The girl whimpered. “It’s here…”
Alessia stood up. A figure crawled from the shadows, not walking, not standing, but crawling.
Its limbs were twisted. Faces changing every second, their voices overlapping. A shifting form. The Architect’s nightmare construct.
It hissed. “You don’t belong here!”
Alessia tilted her head. “Neither do you.” It lunged.
Alessia snapped her fingers. A shockwave of dual essence ripped through the illusion—disintegrating the shape-shifter like brittle smoke.
The girl gasped. “You… you killed it!”
Alessia extended her hand. “Come with me.”
The girl took her hand. Alessia pulled her gently through the illusion, through the distortion—to the real world.
Kael immediately stepped forward, checking the girl’s condition. “Is she—”
“She’s safe,” Alessia said.
The girl clung to Kael’s cloak. “Mister, you’re big…”
He stiffened awkwardly. “Thank you.”
Alessia placed a hand on the illusion sphere. It dissolved completely.
One saved. Dozens more.
Kael met her eyes. “There are more screams.”
“Yes.”
“We keep going?”
“Yes.”
They moved deeper into the warped city.
Ten minutes later—Ianthe and Seraphine returned from the left path with three rescued citizens, Seraphine crying joyfully but also from sheer panic.
Eryx and Rian came from the right, dragging a semi-conscious man and stepping over shattered illusion remnants.
Alessia assessed them quickly. “All stable?”
“Physically, yes,” Ianthe said. “Mentally… they’ll need time.”
Alessia nodded. “Good work.”
Seraphine sniffed. “A-and pastries helped! I gave one to a lady, and she said it tasted like safety—"
“That’s trauma talking,” Eryx muttered.
Rian pointed shakily to the map. “That’s… one cluster left.”
Alessia turned. The last trail led to a tall, ornate building near the water—tall towers, arched windows, and silver banners. It is the Valeris Hall of Records.
Ianthe frowned. “A government archive?”
Kael’s voice hardened. “No. A symbolic one.”
Alessia nodded. “History,” she said. “The perfect place to hide people trapped in their past.”
They moved. Valeris Hall was worse inside. Dark corridors. Staircases that looped into themselves. Statues watching them. Books whispering as they passed.
Seraphine whispered, “I can feel my soul panicking.”
Rian murmured, “That’s normal here.”
Kael stepped ahead. “Be ready.”
Alessia felt it before anyone else—a pulse. A familiar signature, not the Architect. Someone else. She was dumbfounded.
Kael felt her pause. “What is it?”
“Someone’s here,” she said.
“Enemy?”
“No.”
Then who? A shadow stepped out from behind one of the arches, tall and graceful. Silver hair falling to his shoulders. Eyes golden like dawn. A long, moon-stitched coat. Cold elegance in every line. The Lunaris Prince.
Kael swore under his breath. “Of all times—”
Ianthe groaned. “Why is he pretty? That’s inconvenient.”
Eryx whispered, “That’s the Moon King’s son. What is he doing here?”
Seraphine fainted again—quietly.
Rian pinched her arm. “Not helping—”
The Prince walked forward slowly, calmly, as if strolling through a garden rather than a corrupted nightmare.
He stopped in front of Alessia. Then bowed his head slightly.
“Princess Alessia,” he greeted softly. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Kael’s hand flew to his sword. Alessia didn’t move. Her eyes remained on the Prince.
“Why,” she asked, “are you here?”
The Lunaris Prince lifted his gaze. Golden eyes met silver-violet.
“Because,” he said quietly, “someone in this building is tied to your past.”
He stepped aside. Revealing a person bound in luminous chains. Their face hidden. Their aura is familiar. Too familiar.
Kael stiffened. “Alessia…”
She inhaled sharply because she recognized the essence.
Not Solaris.
Not Lunaris.
Not Noctis.
Something older, fainter, and echoing. From before she woke in Luminary. Her past life. It was Luna.
The chained person lifted their head slowly—and Alessia’s blood went cold.
“Hello, Alessia,” the figure whispered.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”