Koya burst out of the ruined Golden Arena, tears streaming down her cheeks. Behind her, the once-majestic structure lay in chaos. The Golden Guardian and the four Elders moved among the rubble, directing support Flow users to pull injured spectators from the debris. Healing light glowed softly as they stabilized wounds and carried people to safety.
Koya didn't look back. She ran blindly into the nearby forest, legs pumping until her lungs burned. The world around her faded to nothing but pain and crushing regret. Countless questions flooded her mind—What am I? Why did this happen?—until her foot caught on a root and she tumbled forward.
She pushed herself onto her knees, both hands planted on the damp earth. As she stared at her palms, her breath hitched. The deep stab wounds from Ra'an's blade were gone. Her shoulder, torn open moments ago, showed only smooth, unmarked skin. No blood. No pain. Completely healed, as if Ra'an had never touched her.
"What… am I?" she whispered, voice trembling. Fresh tears spilled down her face.
"Mom has been in a coma all my life… has zero Flow… a god item chose me… and now this." Her forehead touched the ground as sobs wracked her body. "What's wrong with me…? Why am I cursed?"
At the Golden Globe Healing Sanctum, the long stone hallways buzzed with urgent activity. Injured spectators lined the corridors while support Flow users hurried back and forth, carrying the wounded on stretchers of woven light or channeling gentle restorative energy.
From one of the treatment rooms, Anna's voice rang out sharply.
Cal burst through the door and froze. Anna was struggling against glowing restraints of water that held her to the bed. Her face was flushed, eyes red.
"What's going on here?" Cal asked, his tone low and weary.
"Cal, please tell him to let me go!" Anna cried, voice cracking. "I need to find Koya… She needs me!"
"Ma'am, please calm down," the head nurse said gently but firmly. "You cannot leave in your current condition. You need rest and healing."
"I'm totally fine!" Anna insisted, straining against the bonds.
"You are not," the nurse replied patiently. "Please stop insisting."
"You don't get it…" Anna's voice broke as tears finally spilled. "Koya can't be alone right now. Not after what just happened. She needs someone… She needs me."
Cal's eyes welled up. He stepped closer and sat on the edge of the bed, gently placing his hand over hers.
"Anna… please calm down," he said softly. "If Koya sees either of us like this, it will only make her feel worse. We'll both go look for her once we've healed. I promise."
Anna opened her mouth to argue, but the words died. Instead, she broke down into quiet sobs.
Outside, rain began to pour, drumming steadily against the sanctum's roof.
Deep in the forest, Koya wandered with no destination. Her legs grew heavier with every step, exhaustion weighing her down like chains. She clutched Ikua's arm tightly to her chest.
She stopped suddenly and stared at the artifact. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks. With a sharp cry, she hurled it to the ground and kept walking, never looking back.
One week later.
The Flow Star stood nestled deep within an ancient, mist-shrouded woodland. Elegant wooden buildings with flowing, organic architecture rose gracefully among towering spirit trees whose leaves shimmered with faint inner light. Winding stone paths connected the structures, bordered by serene gardens where glowing flowers bloomed year-round and gentle streams whispered through the grounds. It was a place of quiet refuge, where the air itself felt alive with subtle, soothing Flow.
Inside one of the modest dormitories, Immira sat alone in a dimly lit room, gazing out the window into the rainy night.
"Koya… where are you?"
Memories flickered through her mind like half-forgotten dreams. A sunlit forest clearing… a pregnant woman dressed in flowing white robes approaching her, exhausted yet determined… the two of them walking together along the Flow Star's peaceful paths while the woman spoke words Immira could no longer quite recall.
A loud knock on the door startled her awake.
Immira opened it.
Koya stood there, clothes filthy and torn, face gaunt with exhaustion, still clutching Ikua's arm.
Immira froze for a heartbeat, then pulled her into a fierce embrace. Koya cried softly against her shoulder.
"No more, my child," Immira whispered, holding her tight. "Everything is going to be okay."
She pulled back gently and guided Koya inside. Immira lingered at the doorway for a moment longer, brow furrowed.
Why was I having that dream again? she thought before closing the door softly.
Later, in the shower, warm water cascaded over Koya. She stood with her head tilted back, eyes closed, letting the stream wash away the dirt and tears.
Meanwhile, Immira sat alone in the cozy reading room. Wooden chairs with soft woven cushions surrounded a low table carved from dark spirit oak. Brown curtains, embroidered with subtle leaf patterns, framed the windows, diffusing the soft daylight. Shelves lined the walls, filled with old leather-bound tomes and small potted glowing herbs that released a faint, calming fragrance. A single lantern hung from the ceiling, its light warm and golden, blending perfectly with the sanctuary's peaceful, natural atmosphere.
Koya walked in slowly, dressed in simple all-black attire—a loose shirt and trousers. The long sleeves covered the scars that were no longer there. Her movements were sluggish, her body radiating unnatural cold.
"Hey, Immira," she said, voice barely above a whisper.
Immira closed her book and patted the seat beside her. "My child… come sit next to me."
Koya sat down heavily.
"How are you doing?" Immira asked gently.
Koya stayed silent for several long seconds.
"Immira, I know what you're trying to do," she finally said. "You're trying to make me feel like what I did wasn't such a bad thing…"
"But it isn't your fault," Immira cut in softly.
"But it is," Koya replied, voice shaking as tears gathered in her eyes. "Something is wrong with me."
She took a shaky breath. "Things I didn't ask for started happening to me ever since I got that item. Strange dreams… sensations I cannot explain… I threw the item away. I walked away. But I still went back and picked it up. After everything it caused… my body, my soul… felt incomplete without it."
Her eyes lit up with quiet intensity.
The air in the room grew intensely warm, almost stifling, as if responding to the weight of her words.
To be continued…