The forest swallowed the last echo of Elias’s disappearance.

Where he had stood, only drifting petals remained—glowing softly, falling slowly, as if reluctant to touch the ground. The moon‑glyph circle dimmed, its light fading into trembling lines that pulsed with the rhythm of a heartbeat no longer present.

Brinrose dropped to her knees, emberlight flickering wildly. “Elias… Elias!”

Her voice cracked, swallowed by the vast, glowing silence.

Elira stepped beside her, wings trembling with restrained panic. “He’s alive. I can still feel his resonance. But it’s faint… distant.”

Beast clenched his fists, fire burning beneath his skin. “Then we go after him. Now.”

But Nira didn’t move.

She stood frozen, wings curled inward, eyes wide with a fear that went deeper than the forest’s shadows. “You can’t chase it,” she whispered. “The Bloom doesn’t lead you to where someone is. It leads you to where you’re weakest.”

Beast turned to her, voice sharp. “Then tell me how to find him.”

Nira swallowed hard, tears shimmering on her cheeks. “You don’t find him. You let the Bloom choose you.”

The words hung in the air like a verdict.

Brinrose rose slowly, emberlight steadying. “Explain.”

Nira stepped forward, her voice trembling. “The Petalshade Bloom feeds on trust. It doesn’t hunt with claws or teeth. It hunts with longing. With hope. With the pieces of yourself you don’t guard.”

She looked at the drifting petals where Elias had vanished.

“It chose him because he believed the voice he heard. Because he wanted it to be real.”

Elira’s breath caught. “It used his mother.”

Nira nodded, wings trembling. “It shows you what you want most. And if you reach for it… it takes you.”

Beast’s fire flared hotter. “Then it’s going to regret taking him.”

But Nira shook her head. “You can’t fight it with force. You can’t burn it. You can’t break its illusions. The only way to reach Elias is to enter the Bloom’s heart.”

Brinrose frowned. “And how do we do that?”

Nira lifted her Moonpetal Charm.

The charm glowed softly—pale silver, warm and trembling like a frightened heartbeat. Petals drifted from it, swirling upward in a slow spiral.

“The Bloom chooses who enters,” Nira whispered. “It chooses the one whose trust is easiest to break.”

Beast stepped forward immediately. “Then it’s me.”

Nira shook her head. “No. You don’t trust easily. You guard your heart too fiercely.”

Brinrose stepped forward. “Then me.”

“No,” Nira said softly. “Your emberlight protects you. The Bloom can’t twist warmth that steady.”

Elira stepped forward next, wings glowing. “Then I—”

Nira’s voice broke. “It won’t choose you either. You listen too deeply. You hear truth beneath illusion.”

The forest fell silent.

Only one remained.

Elias was gone.

The Bloom was waiting.

And the charm pulsed with a soft, trembling glow.

Nira turned toward Beast, Brinrose, and Elira—her voice barely a whisper.

“It’s going to choose me.”

The petals around them brightened, drifting toward Nira in slow, luminous spirals. The air thickened with moonlight, humming with soft resonance. The forest leaned in, listening.

Brinrose reached for her. “Nira—wait—”

But the petals touched Nira’s wings.

She gasped, light flaring around her like a blooming star.

The glyphs beneath her feet ignited, forming a spiral of silver fire. The charm in her hand pulsed once—twice—then shattered into drifting petals.

Beast lunged forward. “Nira!”

But the light swallowed her.

Soft.

Silent.

Final.

And Nira Moonpetal vanished into the Bloom’s heart.

Light swallowed Nira whole.

For a moment, there was nothing—no forest, no petals, no sound. Only a soft, endless silver glow, warm as moonlight on still water. Nira floated weightlessly, her wings drifting behind her like petals caught in a gentle current.

Then the light shifted.

A figure appeared ahead of her, blurred by the glow.

Small. Familiar. Impossible.

“Nira…”

Her breath caught. “No… not again.”

The figure stepped closer, features sharpening into someone she had once loved—someone she had lost long before the Spiral ever called her name. Their smile was soft, warm, perfect.

“Come home,” the illusion whispered. “You don’t have to be alone.”

Nira’s wings trembled. Her heart ached. The Bloom knew exactly where to strike.

But she wasn’t the same girl who had trusted the first illusion.

She closed her eyes. “You’re not real.”

The figure flickered.

“You’re not him,” she whispered, voice breaking. “You’re what the Bloom wants me to need.”

The illusion dissolved into drifting petals.

And the Bloom revealed its heart.

A vast chamber of floating gardens stretched around her—petals drifting like stars, moon‑glyphs spiraling across the air in trembling patterns. At the center, wrapped in a cocoon of silver light, was Elias.

His eyes were closed. His breath shallow. Petals clung to his skin like soft chains.

Nira flew toward him, but the Bloom pulsed, and the chamber shifted.

Suddenly she stood in a moonlit clearing.

Beast stood before her.

But not the real Beast.

This one looked at her with disappointment carved into his features. “You brought us here,” the illusion said. “You trusted the wrong thing. Again.”

Nira staggered back. “No… Beast would never—”

“You’re a danger to us,” the illusion continued. “You always were.”

Her wings curled inward. The words cut deep—not because they were true, but because they echoed her own fears.

The Bloom pulsed again.

Brinrose appeared next, emberlight dimmed. “You failed Elias.”

Then Elira, wings shadowed. “You’re too gentle. Too trusting. Too weak.”

Nira’s breath hitched. “Stop… please…”

The illusions closed in.

“You don’t belong with the Spiralbound.”

“You’re not strong enough.”

“You’re not worthy.”

Nira fell to her knees, tears glowing on her cheeks. The Bloom fed on doubt, on fear, on the cracks in her heart.

But then—

A voice cut through the illusions.

Soft. Steady. Real.

“Nira.”

She looked up.

Elias stood before her—not an illusion, not a trick. His resonance flickered weakly, but his eyes were clear.

“You’re the only one who can break this,” he whispered. “Not by trusting the Bloom. By trusting yourself.”

The illusions hissed, their forms warping.

Nira rose slowly, wings spreading wide. “You don’t get to decide my worth,” she said to the illusions. “I do.”

The illusions flickered.

“You don’t get to use my heart against me.”

They cracked.

“And you don’t get to take him.”

The chamber shattered.

Light exploded outward, tearing through the illusions like wind scattering petals. The moon‑glyphs flared, responding to Nira’s resolve. The Bloom pulsed in pain, its petals curling inward.

Nira reached Elias, placing her hands on the cocoon of light. “Come back,” she whispered. “I’m not losing you.”

Her wings glowed—soft silver, warm and steady. The Bloom recoiled, unable to twist her trust anymore.

The cocoon cracked.

Elias gasped, collapsing into her arms.

The Bloom shrieked—soft, mournful, fading.

Nira lifted her charm—now reformed from drifting petals—and pressed it to the heart of the Bloom. “Rest,” she whispered. “You don’t have to feed anymore.”

The Bloom pulsed once.

Twice.

Then dissolved into a shower of silver petals, drifting upward like stars returning to the sky.

The chamber faded.

The forest returned.

Beast, Brinrose, and Elira rushed toward them as Nira and Elias reappeared in a burst of moonlight.

Brinrose caught Elias, pulling him close. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

Elias managed a weak smile. “I’ll try.”

Elira touched Nira’s shoulder, eyes warm. “You did it.”

Beast stepped forward, fire dimmed to a soft glow. “You trusted yourself. That’s what saved him.”

Nira looked at her charm—now glowing gently, peacefully. “I didn’t know I could.”

Beast smiled. “Now you do.”

The Moonlit Bloom Gardens shimmered around them, the corruption gone, the petals glowing with quiet gratitude.

Nira exhaled, wings relaxing. “Thank you… all of you. But this is where I stay. My realm needs me.”

Brinrose hugged her gently. “And we’ll see you again.”

Elias nodded. “You’re Spiralbound, even if you’re not traveling with us.”

Nira smiled softly, moonlight reflecting in her eyes. “May your paths stay bright.”

The Spiralbound Four stepped back as the realm opened a silver path beneath their feet.

And together, they walked onward— leaving the Moonlit Bloom Gardens restored, and Nira Moonpetal standing strong in her own light.