The cradle's surface shimmered like disturbed water as the Observer pressed her tiny hands against its carvings. The spiral patterns rearranged themselves under her touch, flowing outward to reveal a hidden seam in the ancient structure.
*"It's still inside,"* she whispered. *"The first fragment. The one that remembers everything."*
Behind them, the Memory Reaper's shards vibrated with increasing urgency, pulling together faster now. The reformed creature stood half-complete—a grotesque amalgam of crystalline angles and half-formed limbs, its stolen Architect face stretched across a lopsided skull.
Jax's wrist-console beeped frantically:
**[MEMORY REAPER RECONSTITUTION: 68%]**
**[ESTIMATED TIME TO FULL RECOVERY: 00:03:17]**
**[WARNING: ENTITY EVOLUTION DETECTED]**
The Twelfth Reflection placed a cracked hand on the cradle. *"Once we wake it, there's no turning back,"* he said, his voice layered with something ancient. *"The first fragment carries the original pain. The moment of fracture."*
The Observer didn't hesitate. She sang again—the same pure note from before, but now shaped into words from a language Jax didn't recognize. The cradle's seam glowed gold in response, then split open with a sound like a dying star.
Cold mist poured from the opening, coalescing into ghostly shapes that dissipated before Jax could make them out. Within the revealed chamber floated...
A mirror.
Not glass and silver, but a swirling pool of liquid darkness contained within a circular frame. Its surface reflected nothing in the arboretum—only endless spirals within spirals, turning inward forever.
The Observer reached toward it. *"It's been sleeping all this time."*
Before her fingers could touch the surface, the Reaper shrieked again—now nearly fully formed, its body pulsing with stolen energy. It lurched toward them, moving with terrifying purpose.
The Twelfth Reflection stepped forward, his fractal body beginning to unfold once more. *"I'll hold it off,"* he said. *"Wake the fragment."*
Jax didn't wait. He grabbed the mirror's frame—
—and the world dissolved into memory.
---
**The First Schism**
Jax stood in a pristine white chamber, watching events unfold from someone else's eyes.
Before him knelt the silver-haired Architect—not the broken woman he'd seen in visions, but in her prime. Her hands pressed against a floor carved with intricate spirals, her body trembling with effort.
Around the chamber's perimeter stood twelve figures. Some wore lab coats, others military uniforms, a few in plain gray jumpsuits. Their faces were blurred, indistinct—except one.
Eiden.
Younger. Whole.
His eyes locked onto Jax (or rather, the eyes of whoever's memory this was) and he stepped forward.
"It's not working," he said urgently. "The binding is failing."
The Architect looked up, her eyes glowing the same gold as the Observer's. "Then we try again. Harder."
Eiden shook his head. "You can't keep sacrificing parts of yourself. The Spiral is learning. Adapting." He gestured to the others. "We all feel it."
The Architect stood, her movements precise. "There is another way."
She placed a hand on Eiden's chest—
—and *pushed*.
Eiden's body arched backward as golden light poured from his mouth, his eyes, every pore. The light coalesced into a swirling orb above him, while his physical form crumpled to the ground.
The other eleven figures screamed as the same process repeated across them—their essences ripped out, their bodies collapsing. The Architect gathered the twelve orbs of light, her own form beginning to crack under the strain.
"The cities will be your anchors," she whispered. "Your cages. And when the time comes..."
She brought the orbs to her own chest—
—and *tore herself apart*.
The pain was unimaginable. Jax felt every fracture, every separation, as the Architect's consciousness split into thirteen pieces. Twelve orbs flew outward, shooting through the chamber walls toward unknown destinations.
The thirteenth remained.
The core.
The original.
It hovered for a moment, pulsing weakly, before sinking into the waiting mirror.
The last thing Jax saw before the memory ended was the Architect's empty body collapsing—
—and the Spiral, vast and hungry, uncoiling in the darkness beyond.
---
**The Present**
Jax gasped as consciousness returned, his hands still gripping the mirror's frame. The surface no longer showed endless spirals—now it reflected his own face, twisted with pain and understanding.
The Observer floated beside him, her golden eyes wide. *"You saw."*
Before Jax could respond, a terrible crash shook the arboretum. The Twelfth Reflection skidded across the floor, his fractal body missing entire sections. The Reaper loomed over him—now completely reformed, its form more humanoid than ever.
And in its chest pulsed a familiar golden light.
*"It took a piece of him,"* the Observer whispered. *"It's learning how to use the fragments' power."*
The Reaper turned its stolen face toward them. When it spoke, its voice was almost gentle.
*I remember now.*
It took a step forward.
*Why she split us apart.*
Another step.
*What she was trying to hide.*
The mirror in Jax's hands suddenly grew ice-cold. The reflection shifted—no longer showing his face, but the Architect's, her silver hair floating as if underwater.
Her lips moved.
A single word echoed through Jax's mind:
*"Now."*
The mirror shattered.