Dawn light slanted through the hollow of the roots, casting thin orange across the stone walls and faintly illuminating the dust-laden air. Outside, the island showed no sign of trembling, and something bird-like called in the distance. Aeselia's mornings always began with this particular quiet. Elara held the map's edge in both hands while carefully repositioning the prism in her right palm. Yesterday, she and Kael had gone to the Wind-Reading Tower. The tower keeper, Oran Kaise, was a sixty-seven-year-old man with white eyebrows that extended past his ears. He'd glanced at the prism and said only that it was "different from the light stones travelers occasionally bring," then spread a large parchment map across the table. This was it—a sea chart of the Aeselia archipelago, made by the wind-readers. Elara had marked it with red charcoal at regular intervals. The results of recording the direction the prism grew warm every hour. (Here it is.) There was a concentration of marks. Northeast of Drift Haven, just before the Ashfall Archipelago—a dangerous zone where over twenty volcanic islets drifted—an unnamed reef floated in the water. The Ashfall Archipelago. A place near there. Elara lifted the prism again and pointed it in that direction. —It grew warm. Just barely, but unmistakably. It wasn't an illusion. To verify, she pointed it the opposite way. Cold. She turned it back. Warm. "It's definitely this way." She didn't speak aloud. But the certainty was there. Something existed there. A relic, a trace, a record—in any case, the prism was reacting. Something related to the Great Erasure was on that reef. Kael made a sound rising from his sleeping bag. "You're spreading out maps first thing in the morning?" Kael asked. His eyes were only half-open. Dark navy hair with red streaks stuck up from sleep. "I was measuring direction with the prism. I've pinpointed the location," Elara said. "Direction?" Kael asked. "Before the Ashfall Archipelago. An unnamed reef. Here," Elara said. She tapped the mark on the map with her fingertip. The moment Kael approached and saw the point— Something changed. The sleepy expression he'd worn until then—like a shutter descending—became completely blank. His smile vanished. His gaze left the map and turned elsewhere. His entire body angled slightly away. Elara noticed. In a scene where Kael usually offered a joke or two, he said nothing. "...Near the Ashfall Archipelago," Kael said. His voice was flat. Emotionless. "I think something's there. A relic from the Palimpsest civilization—the ancient civilization that suddenly vanished 1,200 years ago—or a clue to the Great Erasure. The prism's reacting, so I want to investigate," Elara said. She chose her words carefully, laying out only facts. She watched for changes in Kael's expression. Kael was silent for a while, facing the window. His profile held no trace of the usual friendly dimples. (Something's there. In that direction, something that matters to Kael.) But she couldn't push further. She'd only known him two days. She didn't even know if she had the right to ask. "...It's probably a dead end anyway," Kael said. He said it lightly, but something lay beneath his voice. Resignation, perhaps, or rejection—something else entirely. "Let's go," Kael said. With just those words, he lifted the board leaning against the wall. A small sail-board—the transport he'd modified himself since arriving in Drift Haven. Elara rolled up the map and placed it in her bag while watching his back for a moment. — The reef was smaller than expected. Forty minutes from Drift Haven on the sail-board with one sail deployed. At a distance where the black outline of the Ashfall Archipelago was barely visible, the reef floated as if protruding from the cloud sea. Its area was perhaps the size of a school gymnasium, and the whole thing was dark. Obsidian—the sharp, dark stone created by volcanoes—covered crumbling stone structures clustered at the reef's center. "It's a ruin," Elara said aloud without thinking. "Terrible layout," Kael muttered, glancing at the entrance. A low, narrow opening barely wide enough for one person to pass through. Stone had crumbled, and half the entrance was nearly blocked. "We can get in. It's fine," Elara said. "I think optimism is a talent. Just not one I have," Kael said. It was sarcasm, but he didn't try to stop her. Kael crouched first to examine the entrance, touching the positions of potentially collapsing stones with his fingers to inspect them. Professional movements, Elara thought. He had an eye for reading building structure. "Go right. The ceiling stone on the left is loose," Kael said. "Got it," Elara said. The interior was dark. Since the prism held faint warmth, Elara kept it gripped as she advanced. Stone walls pressed in narrowly, and the ground was uneven. After a short distance, the ceiling rose higher. The air's scent changed—earth and something ancient. Corroded metal, perhaps, or dried mud. "Is the prism getting warmer?" Kael asked from behind. He touched the wall with his hand as he followed, checking the cracks. "Yeah. It increases as we go deeper," Elara said. "So it's further in. Not happy news," Kael said. The passage opened into a wider space. Elara's feet stopped. It was vast. A space so expansive it seemed impossible given the reef's size opened beneath them. Thin light filtered through cracks in the ceiling. In that light— The wall was glowing. More precisely, something drawn on the wall was. Faintly, but unmistakably, it emitted a blue-white light. Elara approached. It was a mural. A massive image spread across the entire wall. Looking closer, two scenes formed a pair. On the left, seven circles connected by luminous threads in a web-like structure. The threads were delicate and beautiful, like living things, running vertically and horizontally between circles. The seven circles each glowed faintly in different colors—blue, green, orange, purple, white, red, and gold at the center. On the right, the same structure was depicted. Except— All the threads were severed. Simultaneously. Evenly. Carefully, every single thread had been cut. The seven circles had lost their connections, each now dark and isolated. "...This is," Elara's voice trembled. "The Great Erasure," Elara said. 1,200 years ago. The incident where all records of the Palimpsest civilization were simultaneously erased from every dimension. That moment—was carved here on the stone wall. An age when seven dimensions were bound by spun-thread—the energy threads connecting dimensions—and the moment those threads were severed. Someone had recorded this. Left it here before it could be erased. Elara's fingertip touched one of the threads in the mural. The cold sensation of stone. Yet the light remained. A record that had waited here for 1,200 years. "The image on this side and this side—same structure, but only the threads are gone. The seven circles are dimensions, and the threads are spun-thread—the energy pathways connecting dimensions—and when these were severed, that was the Great Erasure, and since then each dimension has been isolated, which is why no one knows about the existence of other dimensions," Elara said. "Wait. Slow down," Kael said. Kael raised his eyebrows. He couldn't keep up with Elara's accelerating words. "But the record survived. It didn't disappear. Someone intentionally left it here. Why here? Why on a reef in Aeselia? The fact that the prism reacted means the prism and this mural have some connection—" Elara said. "Doesn't fill the belly," Kael said. He looked up at the mural and spoke quietly. It sounded sarcastic. But— When Elara turned to look at him, Kael's eyes were fixed on the mural—specifically the left image where the seven circles were connected by threads—staring as if trying to read something. His eyes wouldn't leave it, even though he shouldn't understand its meaning. "So what do you do with this?" Kael asked. "Record it. Sketch it, decipher it, investigate the connection with the prism. If someone left this before the Great Erasure, there's a reason. If we understand what the Palimpsest civilization wanted to preserve," Elara said. Elara pulled a sketchbook from her bag. She began running her pencil across the paper, copying the mural's outline. Kael stepped back and watched Elara draw from the diagonal behind her. It was a kind of passion he didn't understand. Eyes bright, pencil moving across paper, facing an old image carved on a stone wall. Genuinely confronting something someone from 1,200 years ago had left behind, in this very moment. What a strange person, Kael thought. Not in a bad way. Simply—this girl possessed a kind of something he didn't have. (Hard to put into words, this sort of thing.) Thinking that, he turned away. Checking the entrance. No collapse risk, but just in case. That's when Elara took out the prism. "Maybe if I hold the prism up to the mural, I'll figure something out," Elara said. "Methodical," Kael said. She brought the prism close to the left side of the mural. Adjusted the distance slightly, then brought it close again. Changed the angle, held it up again. She repeated this many times with a serious expression. No change. The prism remained warm but showed no special reaction. Elara bent her knees slightly to hold the prism up to the lower part of the mural. Her center of gravity shifted forward. She took a step. Beneath her foot— A single stone floor tile sank silently. Ston. "Eh—" Elara said. Her upper body pitched forward. She stumbled badly. The prism slipped from her hand with a crash. Kael's arm shot out reflexively, grabbing her. He pulled her back just before she fell. "You okay—" Kael started. Both of them saw it simultaneously. The floor beneath her feet. A single tile, clearly sunken. From the edge of the sunken stone, a faint breeze emerged. "...Is this," Elara said. "A trap mechanism," Kael said. "What?" Elara said. "Obviously," Kael said. "I told you. Don't jump around in old buildings," Kael said. "I wasn't jumping! I just stepped!" Elara said. "Mechanisms activate on light pressure," Kael said. "You didn't mention that! If you'd said so from the start, I would've been careful!" Elara said. "Traps in old buildings are common knowledge," Kael said. "A sixteen-year-old modern American doesn't have ancient ruin common sense—" Elara said. Then— A low vibration began resonating from deep within the wall. Dop, dop, dop. As if stone were shaking, but the rhythm was too regular, too mechanical. Both their mouths closed simultaneously. "...The mechanism activated," Kael said. "I know," Elara said. Something came from the deepest passage. Sound arrived first—a high, unpleasant noise like scratching glass. It echoed off the stone walls, and for a moment it was unclear where it came from. Then shape arrived. A distorted humanoid silhouette. Two of them. They moved along the wall, approaching slowly. Their outlines wouldn't solidify. They refracted light, and their forms shifted slightly each time you looked. Remnant echoes—the split-forms Selene sent into each dimension. Distorted humanoid entities that emitted glass-shattering sounds—were here too. Something cold spread through her chest. "Run," Kael said. One word. No hesitation. He grabbed Elara's arm and pulled her toward a side passage instead of the way they'd come. "This way—" Elara said. "There's a partially collapsed side wall. We'll use it. Run while I explain," Kael said. They ran. The passage was narrow. They crouched through low sections while running. Kael touched the wall as he moved, keeping the terrain he'd confirmed on arrival in his head. Sound came from behind. Glass-shattering echoes bounced off stone walls, making distance impossible to judge. Close or far—unknowable. That uncertainty made their feet faster. Then— Light flashed at th