Nyelle stared at her empty hand.
For several seconds, she seemed unable to understand what had happened. Her fingers remained slightly curled, holding the shape of something that was no longer there. The silver bead, the blue cord, and the small piece of paper they had discovered inside the bracelet had vanished without making a sound.
Then she turned her palm toward the light.
"Where is it?"
Nobody answered.
Veyric moved closer. "What?"
"My bracelet. It was in my hand."
"I saw it."
"It was right here." She rubbed her thumb against the centre of her palm, as though the familiar texture might somehow return. "I was holding it. I didn’t drop it."
She crouched and searched the floor beneath her feet. Veyric followed her gaze, checking the narrow spaces between the table and the wall, although he already knew they wouldn’t find anything. There had been no movement, no falling object, not even the faint sound of metal striking stone.
The small figure watched her carefully.
"Don’t search for it."
Nyelle looked up. "Why?"
"Because it wasn’t taken from your hand."
"Then where did it go?"
The figure glanced at Veyric before answering.
"It was returned."
Veyric’s expression hardened. "Returned to whom?"
A single knock sounded beneath Nyelle’s feet.
She froze.
Veyric caught her arm and pulled her backward. The sound stopped immediately, but a faint white circle remained on the floor where she had been standing. It was small, barely wider than her shoe, and unlike the markings surrounding the metal table, it had no visible connection to the chamber’s larger pattern.
Their mother hurried toward them.
"Nyelle, come away from there."
"I am away from it."
"Further."
Nyelle stared at her. "You keep telling us to move, but you never tell us what we’re moving away from."
Their mother stopped.
For a moment, she looked as though she might answer. Instead, her gaze settled on the white circle, and whatever explanation she had been preparing disappeared behind the same uncertainty that had followed them since entering the chamber.
Veyric examined the marking. A thin line extended from its centre toward Nyelle’s feet, ending just before her shoe. It wasn’t connected to the table, the doorway, or any of the previous patterns. It seemed to have appeared specifically for her.
The phone illuminated.
[PROTECTIVE SUBJECT: NYELLE.]
[CONNECTION STATUS: ACTIVE.]
[PROTECTED ENTITY: UNKNOWN.]
A second line appeared beneath the first.
[PROTECTION METHOD: MEMORY RETENTION.]
Nyelle read it twice.
"Memory retention?"
The small figure nodded.
"They needed you to remember something the others couldn’t."
"What?"
"I don’t know."
Veyric turned toward it. "You keep saying that, but you recognize every important part of this procedure. You knew what the bracelet was, what the markings meant, and why Nyelle was kept outside the second chamber."
"Recognizing the procedure doesn’t mean I know what was hidden inside it."
"Then what was she supposed to remember?"
The figure looked at Nyelle.
"Someone."
Her expression changed.
"Someone who?"
The figure hesitated long enough for Veyric to notice.
"Someone you were supposed to recognize when they returned."
Their mother stepped forward. "That’s enough."
Nyelle turned on her. "Why? What are you afraid I’ll remember?"
"I’m afraid of what this place will make you believe."
"That’s not the same thing as answering me."
Their mother lowered her eyes.
"I remember the instruction now," she said. "They told me Nyelle had to remain outside the second chamber because she was the only one who could recognize the subject after the separation."
Veyric stared at her.
"Which subject?"
"I wasn’t told."
"Was it me?"
"I thought it was."
"And now?"
She shook her head slowly. "Now I don’t know."
Nyelle folded her arms. "So you kept me outside, made me forget the other child, and expected me to recognize someone I couldn’t remember?"
"I was told the memory would return when the subject did."
"Did it?"
Their mother couldn’t answer.
Nyelle looked away. She wasn’t shouting, but the tension in her face was unmistakable. Veyric knew that silence. It was the kind that came when she had too many questions and had stopped believing anyone would answer them honestly.
He stepped closer.
"We’ll figure it out."
She gave a small, humourless laugh.
"You’ve been saying that since we entered this place."
"I know."
"And every answer gives us three more questions."
"I know."
She looked directly at him. "Then stop promising me we’ll figure everything out. Just don’t let them make another decision for us."
Veyric held her gaze.
"I won’t."
He meant it, although he couldn’t explain how he would keep that promise. Every time they uncovered something about their past, another part of their lives became uncertain. Even the memories he trusted now seemed to have been arranged by someone who understood exactly which pieces to leave behind.
The phone made a soft clicking sound.
A new image appeared.
It showed a narrow corridor with two doors. One was marked with a circle; the other had no symbol at all. Between them stood a young girl holding something blue.
Nyelle leaned forward.
"That’s me."
Veyric studied the image. The girl was perhaps six or seven, her hair tied back, her small shoulders drawn inward. She stood before the unmarked door, looking over her shoulder at someone outside the frame.
A voice came through the speaker.
"Are you ready?"
The young Nyelle nodded.
"Do you remember what I told you?"
"Yes."
"What happens if he comes back?"
The girl looked toward the door.
"I have to keep him away."
Veyric’s stomach tightened.
The recording continued.
"And if he asks you to open the door?"
The girl hesitated. Her fingers tightened around whatever she was holding.
"I mustn’t."
"Even if he cries?"
Her eyes lowered.
"Even if he cries."
The recording ended.
Nyelle stepped away from the table.
"No."
Her mother reached for her, but Nyelle raised a hand to stop her.
"I don’t remember that."
The small figure spoke quietly. "You weren’t supposed to."
Nyelle turned toward it. "Who was talking to me?"
The figure didn’t answer.
The phone screen changed, displaying a final frame from the recording. The person standing outside the camera’s view had moved slightly, revealing one hand resting against the wall.
A familiar blue line ran beneath the skin.
Veyric looked at his right hand.
The marking was identical.
But the hand in the recording was smaller, its fingers thinner, the wrist belonging to someone who had not yet grown into his body.
He moved closer to the table.
"That’s my hand."
The small figure immediately stepped toward him. "Don’t."
Veyric ignored it.
The image sharpened, revealing a small scar crossing the knuckle of the index finger. He looked down at his own hand and rubbed the scar with his thumb.
He remembered getting it years ago, cutting himself on a broken glass bottle. It was an ordinary childhood accident, the kind of thing he had never given a second thought.
At least, that was what he had always believed.
The recording played again.
"Are you ready?"
The young Nyelle nodded.
"What happens if he comes back?"
"I have to keep him away."
"And if he asks you to open the door?"
"I mustn’t."
There was a pause.
Then the person behind the camera spoke again.
"Good. Because the one who comes back won’t know what he’s carrying."
The recording stopped.
Veyric straightened.
"What am I carrying?"
The small figure stared at the phone.
"That’s what they wanted Nyelle to protect."
"Answer me."
"I don’t know."
"Then why did you say she was protecting the third subject from me?"
The figure looked at him. Its expression had become difficult to read.
"Because the third subject wasn’t the only thing that could come back."
Their mother approached the table.
"Show us the second door."
The phone responded immediately.
The image shifted to the corridor, and the two doors appeared again. This time, the unmarked door stood slightly open. A faint white light escaped through the gap, illuminating a narrow strip of floor.
Nyelle stared at it.
"I remember this place."
Veyric turned toward her. "You do?"
She nodded slowly, pressing two fingers against her temple.
"I remember standing outside that door. I remember someone telling me not to open it, but there was someone inside."
"Who?"
"I couldn’t see."
"What did they say?"
Nyelle closed her eyes.
"They kept asking me to let them out."
The chamber seemed to grow colder.
Veyric looked at the small figure. "Was it the third child?"
"I don’t know."
Nyelle shook her head.
"No. It wasn’t the child."
She opened her eyes and looked at Veyric.
"It sounded like you."
For a moment, he couldn’t find anything to say. He had already heard his own voice coming from beneath the floor, from the other side of the chamber, and from recordings that should never have existed. But this was different. Nyelle wasn’t describing a voice that resembled his.
She was remembering him asking to be let out.
The phone emitted a short tone.
[MEMORY RECONSTRUCTION: PARTIAL.]
[SUBJECT RECOGNITION: ACTIVE.]
[DOOR AUTHORITY: NYELLE.]
The image changed.
The young Nyelle stood before the unmarked door again. Her hand rested against its surface, and the blue bracelet was wrapped around her wrist.
Someone knocked from the other side.
Three times.
A pause.
Then a fourth.
The young girl began to cry.
"Please," the voice behind the door said. "You said you would open it."
Nyelle’s present-day expression crumpled.
"I remember," she whispered.
The small figure stepped toward her. "What do you remember?"
Nyelle didn’t look away from the screen.
"I opened it."
Veyric caught her hand.
She didn’t pull away, but her fingers were trembling.
The recording showed the door moving inward. For an instant, a small hand appeared through the opening, reaching toward Nyelle. She took it, and the image shook violently as something crossed the threshold.
Then the screen went black.
A new message appeared.
[DOOR OPENED.]
[SUBJECT RELEASED.]
[RELEASED SUBJECT: UNCONFIRMED.]
Veyric stared at the notification.
"Who came out?"
The small figure looked at Nyelle.
"That’s what we need to find out."
But Nyelle wasn’t looking at the phone anymore. Her attention had shifted to the empty space beside Veyric, and the colour was slowly draining from her face.
Her lips parted.
"There’s someone standing there."
Veyric turned.
Nothing.
He looked back at her. "Where?"
"Beside you."
The small figure moved between them so quickly that its shoulder struck Veyric’s arm.
"Don’t look at it."
Veyric caught the figure before it stumbled. "What is it?"
"Don’t look at it," the figure repeated, this time with something close to panic in its voice.
That frightened Veyric more than the warning itself.
The air beside him began to distort. At first, it looked like heat rising from a road, a wavering patch that bent the lines of the chamber behind it. Then the distortion gathered into a human outline, its shoulders uneven and its head tilted slightly toward Veyric.
It wasn’t the small figure.
It wasn’t the child from the recording.
This shape was taller, though its body seemed incomplete, as if parts of it had not finished returning.
A hand emerged from the distortion.
A familiar hand.
It reached toward Veyric’s right wrist.
The blue line beneath his skin began to glow.
He tried to pull away, but his arm resisted him. The sensation wasn’t quite physical pressure. It was closer to the strange numbness he had experienced when the chamber first connected to him, except this time something seemed to be searching for a place beneath his skin.
Nyelle stepped forward.
"Don’t touch him."
The hand stopped.
The figure behind the distortion tilted its head.
For the first time since they had entered the chamber, something answered Nyelle without using the System, the phone, or the markings on the floor.
A voice came from the distortion.
It was soft.
Young.
And unmistakably frightened.
"Nyelle?"
Her face drained of colour.
Veyric turned toward her. "Do you know that voice?"
She didn’t answer.
The voice continued.
"You opened the door for me."
Nyelle’s free hand rose to her mouth. Her eyes moved between the distorted figure and Veyric, but she seemed unable to settle on either.
Veyric reached for his sister.
She didn’t move.
The figure lowered its hand, and the distortion around its body began to settle. For one brief moment, its outline became clearer, revealing the suggestion of a face that remained just beyond recognition.
"Why did you close it again?"
Nyelle made a small, broken sound.
Veyric tightened his grip on her hand. "Nyelle, come here."
She finally looked at him, but the expression in her eyes made him stop.
It wasn’t simply fear.
It was recognition fighting against something she desperately wanted to forget.
The small figure moved closer to Veyric, its gaze fixed on the distortion.
"Don’t answer it," it whispered.
The voice came again.
"Nyelle, please."
This time, it sounded closer to the child in the recording.
Then the distorted head turned toward Veyric.
The blue line on his wrist flared, and the phone’s screen lit up behind them.
[THIRD SUBJECT: RESPONSE DETECTED.]
[PROTECTIVE SUBJECT: NYELLE.]
[PROTECTED SUBJECT: VEYRIC.]
[PROTECTED ENTITY: UNKNOWN.]
A final line appeared.
[IDENTITY CONFLICT: REACTIVATED.]
The figure reached toward Veyric again, but stopped just before touching him.
Then it spoke in his voice.
"Brother, you brought the wrong one back."