Reigen stared at the sketch Kael had drawn the night before. It looked crude at first glance — an unfinished spiral drawn with chalk on cracked stone — but the longer he stared, the more it shifted. Not physically. But something in its proportions pulled his eyes inward.
It was… impossible geometry.
"Where did you learn to draw like this?" he asked.
Kael didn't answer.
Instead, she stood and walked to the edge of the broken platform they'd made camp on. The horizon was dim, painted in greys and faded gold, where crumbling cities floated sideways like forgotten thoughts.
She pointed toward the distance.
There, nestled between two collapsed mountain arcs, stood a massive ruin — a spiraling tower fused into the landscape, barely visible under the fog.
"That's where I was born," she said softly.
Reigen froze. "That tower?"
"No," she said. "Inside the foundation of it. Beneath the chamber that holds nothing."
"…What does that even mean?"
Kael didn't respond immediately. Her gaze remained fixed.
"They call it the Tower That Was Never Built. The Shapers began it... but never finished. Something stopped them. Or maybe they vanished. Or maybe... they climbed too far."
Reigen stepped forward, voice low. "You said the Shapers were real. That they could reshape the world. If that's true—"
"They didn't build to control," she interrupted. "They built to understand. But understanding breaks people, Reigen."
A cold silence followed.
---
That evening, Kael brought him underground.
Beneath the ruins of their temporary shelter was a forgotten vault, half-flooded and echoing with the sound of dripping time. Vines grew through cracks in the ceiling. Reflections shimmered on the walls like ghosts.
In the center was a pedestal. And resting atop it…
A crystal cylinder etched in an ancient language.
Reigen's breath caught.
"This is Shaper tech," he whispered. "This is... real."
Kael watched him carefully. "It's called a core spine. It holds the memory of an unfinished structure. You can't read it yet. Not until you remember what you forgot."
"…What I forgot?"
Kael stepped close, lowering her voice.
"Why do you think your blueprints never worked, Reigen? Why did the stairway collapse before it reached the third tier? Why do your buildings breathe and bleed in dreams?"
His chest tightened.
Kael placed the core in his hands.
"Because you were meant to finish what the Shapers started. But you ran."
He wanted to deny it. Call her crazy. Say it was nonsense.
But the blueprint in his bag pulsed faintly. Like it heard.
---
As they left the vault, the night sky shimmered strangely — stars rippling like raindrops.
Kael looked up.
"They're watching again."
"…Who?"
Kael didn't answer. But her face turned pale.
And somewhere, far above the clouds, a sliver of the river in the sky began to fall — like a divine thread unraveling.
Reigen didn't speak.
He just clutched the cylinder tighter.
Because something in him remembered.
And something above… wanted it back.