The sound of celebration faded as Lena slipped through the narrow archway behind the courtyard. The music, the cheers, the firelight—all vanished once she entered the stone passage. The air was cooler here, damp and heavy. A single torch burned on the wall, casting long shadows that seemed to move with her steps.

She followed the faint echo of footsteps ahead. Lady Serah’s violet gown appeared for a moment at the far corner before disappearing again. Lena hurried, careful not to let her shoes scrape too loud. Her heart beat fast, not just from fear but from a strange pull, like she was being led by something older than choice.

The corridor sloped downward. The walls grew rougher, carved from solid rock. Water dripped from the ceiling in steady rhythm. She could hear the faint rumble of the fires above, the echo of the festival still alive on the surface. But down here, it felt like another world—a world forgotten.

At the end of the passage, Serah waited beside a heavy iron door. She turned when Lena approached, her face half hidden by the torchlight. “You followed me,” she said, not surprised.

“I had to,” Lena replied. “You said there are rooms under the palace. I want to see them.”

Serah studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. But what you see cannot be unseen.” She placed her hand on the door. Symbols etched into the metal began to glow faintly blue. The sound of gears turning echoed through the hall. Slowly, the door opened.

Beyond it lay a vast chamber lit by lines of crystal along the walls. The floor shimmered like glass. In the center stood a circular platform surrounded by ancient markings. The air hummed softly, like it was alive.

Lena stepped closer. “What is this place?”

“The heart of the Gate,” Serah said quietly. “It connects this world to another. The palace was built above it to keep it sealed. Every festival, the flames awaken the energy that flows here. That is why the ceremony must be perfect. If the balance breaks, the Gate begins to stir.”

Lena’s breath caught. “You mean the accident during the ceremony—”

“Almost woke it,” Serah said. “You stopped it without knowing. That is why you were chosen.”

Lena stared at the glowing floor. She could feel something beneath her feet, a vibration that matched the beat of her own pulse. “I didn’t do anything special.”

“You crossed worlds,” Serah said. “That alone makes you special.”

Before Lena could answer, the ground trembled. A line of light split across the platform. Wind rushed through the chamber though there was no opening. The crystals flickered. Serah’s face paled. “No. It’s too soon.”

“What’s happening?”

“The Gate is reacting to your presence. It remembers you.”

The light brightened until Lena had to shield her eyes. In the glare, she saw flashes—rain on asphalt, headlights, her city skyline fading into mist. Then a voice, the same one she had heard the night of the accident, whispered inside her head. The way is not closed.

Lena stumbled backward. The light dimmed, leaving the chamber quiet again. Her chest rose and fell as if she had run miles. Serah knelt beside her. “Did you hear it?”

“Yes. It spoke.”

“Then we have little time,” Serah said. “The Gate will open again soon. And when it does, this world and yours may collide.”

Lena gripped her hands together. “How do we stop it?”

“You cannot stop what was meant to happen,” Serah said softly. “But you can guide it. The prince must know the truth, yet he cannot hear it from me. He trusts few people. Perhaps he will trust you.”

Lena hesitated. “He already suspects me. If I tell him, he’ll think I’m a liar.”

“Then make him believe. Show him something he cannot deny.”

Serah stood, her expression calm again though her eyes showed exhaustion. “I will keep the Gate stable for now. Go back before they notice you are gone.”

Lena turned toward the passage. Before leaving, she glanced back at the glowing floor. The light pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat beneath glass. She whispered, “If this Gate connects our worlds, maybe it can send me home.”

Serah’s voice echoed behind her. “Be careful what you wish for. The Gate gives nothing without taking something in return.”

Lena climbed the narrow corridor, her thoughts tangled. When she emerged near the courtyard, the festival had ended. Smoke hung in the air, and torches burned low. Only a few guards remained, cleaning the remnants of celebration.

Mira spotted her from the stairs and ran over. “Where were you? I thought you got lost.”

“I was helping the attendants clean up,” Lena said quickly.

Mira didn’t press further, though her eyes were curious. “Well, you missed the fireworks. But it’s probably better. The noise was enough to make my ears ring.”

Lena smiled faintly, though her hands still trembled. She glanced once more toward the direction of the hidden passage. Beneath that stone and fire lay a secret powerful enough to tear two worlds apart. And somehow, she was now part of it.

That night, when she finally lay down, she dreamt of doors made of light and water, opening and closing again and again. Each time she reached for them, they moved farther away, as if waiting for the right moment to call her back.