Allium lay on the bed in Rose's dorm.
The room still carried her—faint perfume clinging to fabric and air, the quiet proof that this space belonged to someone else before it belonged to him. He didn't open his eyes. He let the scent ground him instead, a soft tether to something human.
His hands moved lightly over the blanket. Smooth. Silken. Too soft.
The bed itself felt like a cloud compared to the stone his back had once called home. He shifted, uncertain, adjusting himself with the careful precision of someone unfamiliar with rest.
Eyes closed.
Focus inward.
Not the room.
Not the scent.
Not the unfamiliar safety.
Within.
The tri-energies hummed immediately—persistent, insistent, like they resented the very idea of stillness. They pulled at his attention, restless, refusing to dim. Still, in fleeting moments, something like comfort brushed against him as he moved.
Flat—too exposed.
Left side—unknown.
Right—pinched, wrong.
Then—
Legs curled.
Arms drawn close to his chest.
There.
The hum softened just enough.
An odd sensation ran through him—not energy, not power, but recognition. As if something older than thought spoke quietly from beneath it all.
Home.
Footsteps approached.
Too many.
Allium sensed them before the door opened. His body relaxed a fraction when he recognized Raya's presence—cool, deliberate, precise. Rose followed close behind her. Two more signatures hovered at the edge of awareness.
Valeum.
Elysia.
The door clicked.
It opened.
Raya stepped inside like someone crossing into a new world. Her eyes moved once—walls, bed, the way the room held warmth rather than authority—and she understood Rose better in that instant than words ever could.
Elysia stopped dead in the doorway.
Her mouth fell open.
"A bedroom," she breathed, awed. "Mama! When can I have a room like this? It's so cozy."
Raya sighed softly, the sound worn smooth by repetition.
"The forest doesn't have the right energy for this," she said. "Not now."
Rose registered the word distantly.
Forest?
Not important.
She looked at Allium. He looked back.
"I got her here," Rose said quietly. "She agreed to help."
Raya sat in the chair beside the bed with practiced delicacy, folding herself into stillness.
"Explain your process," she said.
Rose didn't hesitate.
"Allium is made from the planet," she said. "From ley. If he sleeps, I thought maybe I could enter through the ley within his veins—assist him inside the dreamscape."
Valeum stiffened instantly.
"Valeum does not like this plan."
Raya's gaze flicked to him, then back to Rose.
"You're suggesting entry the way Seraphim travel fissures."
Rose nodded.
Raya calculated.
"You would fail," she said simply. "You lack experience."
She paused, letting the truth settle.
"We would need a Seraphim trained in ley travel. There is only one here."
Her eyes moved to Valeum.
He shook his head violently, hands clenching and unclenching.
"Valeum would perish."
Allium turned his head slightly, curious.
"What exactly is Rose, then?"
"That is not my concern," Raya replied. "But she must discover it herself. And Valeum does not consent."
Silence stretched.
"I didn't say we were done," Raya added. "There is another way."
Her gaze narrowed, sensing inward.
"It's within your chest."
Allium looked down.
"My core?"
The word sounded wrong in Raya's ears—soulless, incomplete.
"Yes," she said. "Your core."
She leaned closer, studying him.
"Do you require it to function?"
Allium considered.
"Weaver shuts it down while I rest," he said slowly. "I still function. I can move within the dreamscape. But I cannot shut it down myself."
Elysia stepped closer.
Too close.
Boundaries did not exist for her yet.
She placed a small hand against Allium's chest and closed her eyes.
When she opened them, the wonder was gone.
Uncomfortable.
She hesitated.
"They're very mad," she said quietly. "Mad mad."
Raya understood.
"You mean the energies," she said.
Elysia nodded, eyes fixed on Allium with sorrow instead of curiosity.
Allium's glow dimmed slightly.
Rose noticed immediately. Her hands clasped together.
"They don't like this?" Allium asked, gesturing faintly toward his chest.
Raya nodded without explanation.
Rose watched the three of them—the way they looked at Allium like they shared knowledge she did not.
"You know something," Rose said. "What is it?"
Raya's face stayed composed. Her hands did not.
"I know of something," she said carefully. "But it is not my responsibility to tell."
Rose's gaze sharpened.
Raya turned to Allium.
"What do you know of your origin?"
He blinked, surprised.
"I was made to help balance Fusion," he said. "To help people. And creatures."
Raya nodded.
"That is true," she said.
Then she sat on the bed beside him.
"But are you aware of what you were intended to be?"
Allium frowned, brushing hair from his face.
Elysia stepped forward again.
"The voices said a word," she whispered. "Parasite."
Rose felt the floor drop out beneath her.
"Parasite," she echoed. "Varos used that word. And during Overload… that's what Allium calls Weaver."
Raya froze.
She knelt in front of Elysia, cupping her cheek gently.
"Listen to me," she said softly. "Those voices—can you pull them out?"
Elysia tensed.
"I… I can try."
She approached Allium slowly.
Rose moved closer instinctively. Raya stayed beside Elysia, anchoring her.
Elysia's arm shifted—skin turning luminous blue, threaded with faint white light. She reached into Allium's chest.
His breath hitched. Sweat beaded along his brow. His fingers clenched into the blanket.
Rose took his hand.
Elysia winced, carefully drawing something free.
A small sphere emerged—marble-sized. Three colors chased one another endlessly within it. Light recoiled from its presence. The air vibrated.
"The core," Raya murmured. "It's changed."
I
The colors faded.
Elysia shook.
"It's quiet," she whispered. "I don't hear anything."
Allium didn't move.
Rose shook him.
"Allium?"
Nothing.
Raya reacted instantly.
"We shut it off," she said. "Elysia—turn it back on."
Elysia panicked, fumbling.
"It's not reacting!"
Rose stepped back.
Her aura flared faintly.
"Rose—wait—" Raya warned.
Too late.
Rose dissolved into energy and plunged into the silent sphere.
Zap.