They emerged from the heart of the shadow. It was the fourth time.

Koyoi watched the color bleed back into the carriage, no longer surprised by the sight. The gray peeled away, exposing the world beneath.

Outside the window, the world reclaimed its hue. Inside, however, things remained bleak.

The cover of the Catalog was almost entirely smothered in gray. Only a few faint streaks of gold remained; everything else had faded into nothingness. Koyoi opened the book to find that most of its pages had sunk into that same leaden gloom.

"Can we not read it anymore?" Asahi asked.

Kuon slowly turned the pages.

A gray page.

Another gray page. Then, a single, vivid one.

"Only the passages we restored from the original at the Scripture House remain," Kuon said.

His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. He was simply stating a fact.

"The heart of the shadow erases copies. But it cannot touch anything written under the authority of the original. There is a hierarchy to information; the copy and the master text exist on different layers."

Koyoi stared at the gray-cloaked pages of the Catalog. The characters he had been able to read before were now buried deep beneath the gray. Every time they passed through the heart of the shadow, more of the information Kuon had painstakingly decoded regarding the three town wells was stripped away.

"What’s gone will not return."

Kuon closed the book.

"But the essentials remain. The records from the Scripture House. The chronicle of the god who ordered the Freezing of Names. The coordinates of the promise at the Lunar Ravine. This is enough to move forward."

"Move forward where?" Koyoi asked.

Kuon opened a remaining page and cast a pale blue light upon it. He pointed to the final line of the text restored at the Scripture House.

"Here lies the name of the god who first ordered the Freezing of Names. And that name—it has not been frozen. They are still alive."

Asahi leaned in. "Where are they?"

"Somewhere in this world. Still holding their name, somewhere."

Kuon shut the Catalog.

"We find the god who ordered the freezing and ask them why. That is the next stage."

Outside the window, familiar lights flickered into view. Pale paper lanterns lined the mist, one by one, then two by two.

It was Nakaoka. Nakaoka, for the nth time.

Yet it looked slightly different every time they returned. The Nakaoka of now was darker than before; the lanterns in the margins were fewer.

In the distance, the thin light of silver-white pillars shimmered. Koyoi felt the drawstring pouch at his waist pulse. It was warm.

Ever since they had touched the promise at the Lunar Ravine, the warmth of the Droplets had stabilized. The trembling had stopped, replaced by a pulse that was gentle yet firm. It was the heartbeat of someone who had made a choice.

The train began to slow.

"We’re getting off," Asahi said, standing up.

Koyoi tightened the knot of the pouch at his waist. One of the Droplets gave a powerful pulse, as if to say: From here on, it’s our turn.

As they stepped onto the platform, the scent of the tide hung in the air. Nakaoka was supposed to be a mountain town, yet the presence of the sea reached them from somewhere unseen.

Kuon narrowed his prosthetic eye, gazing toward the north.

"Mt. Otama is near. This version of Nakaoka sits at its foot."

Asahi rested a hand on the hilt of his greatsword. "What’s at Mt. Otama?"

"I don't know. There is no mention of it in the Catalog. But the Droplets are reacting. There is a chance the god hiding with their name is here."

Koyoi looked down at the pouch. The pulse of the Droplets grew slightly stronger whenever he faced north. Like a compass needle, they were being pulled toward something.

"...Are those children calling to us? Or are we being summoned?"

Kuon didn't answer. He traced a finger along the gold streaks on the Catalog. The streaks glowed faintly, pointing toward the mountains.

The three left the station and headed north. Stone paving gave way to gravel, then to bare earth. The air grew cold and the mist thinned, slowly revealing the looming silhouette of the mountain.