I stepped into the portal.

  Same sensation as before—thick fluid pressing against my skin, cold seeping through the fabric of my robe, then blinding light flooding my vision. I squeezed my eyes shut and kept moving forward.

  A few seconds later, the brightness faded.

  I opened my eyes.

  What the hell.

  A massive structure rose before me, so tall I had to crane my neck to see the top. It was a spire—no, the Spire, clearly—twisting upward in organic spirals of white and gold. Light reflected off its surface in patterns that shifted as the seven suns moved overhead. It looked less like architecture and more like something that had grown from the island itself.

  "Welcome, Yuuki," Athushar said, drifting up beside me. "This is the heart of Citlalli. The Spire of Reflection."

  "Is that where the Prism happens?" I asked, still staring upward.

  "The Prism is held in the structure beside it," Admiral corrected. "The Spire serves a different purpose."

  Different purpose? Like what—a dungeon? A tower climb? Some kind of trial arena?

  I wanted to ask, but Athushar was already moving.

  "We must not delay. The Prism begins when all seven suns reach their peak. We are expected."

  I followed, trying to take in everything at once.

  The celestial capital was nothing like Athushar's quiet island. This place was alive. Celestials moved everywhere—drifting along pathways, gathered in clusters, hovering near buildings that rose in organic curves of white and gold. And they weren't all blue.

  Red celestials. Yellow ones. Violet, green, orange—every color I could name and some I couldn't.

  Wait. I thought all celestials were blue.

  ? That was based on limited observation. We only encountered Athushar's household. ?

  So different colors mean different Luminaries' offspring?

  ? That appears to be the case. Each color likely corresponds to a Luminary's lineage. ?

  Which means I'm about to meet all six of them.

  My stomach tightened.

  And the stares. God, the stares.

  Every celestial we passed turned to look at me. Those blank circular eyes, dozens of them, tracking my movement through the capital. Some drifted closer, as if to get a better view. Others stopped mid-conversation to watch.

  Right. First human in a thousand years. I'm basically a zoo exhibit.

  I kept my head up, trying to project confidence I didn't feel. The modified robe helped—at least I looked good while being gawked at.

  We approached a building adjacent to the Spire. It was smaller but no less impressive—white walls with golden veins running through them, organic curves instead of sharp angles, a massive gate that began opening as we drew near.

  A celestial waited at the entrance. Purple—no, not quite purple. Darker. More blue undertones.

  Indigo?

  "It is an honor, Blue Luminary," the celestial said, inclining their form as Athushar passed.

  Athushar acknowledged them with a slight nod but didn't stop moving. Admiral followed without a word. I hurried to keep up, but not before sneaking another look at the indigo celestial.

  AI, did you see that?

  ? Yes. The coloring does not match the six Luminary colors we know of. ?

  There are supposed to be six Luminaries, right? One for each color of the rainbow—minus one.

  ? Correct. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet. Six colors. But the traditional rainbow includes seven, with indigo between blue and violet. ?

  So either indigo isn't represented... or there's a seventh Luminary we don't know about.

  ? Interesting question. Perhaps we will learn more. ?

  Or maybe I'm overthinking it.

  ? Also possible. ?

  I filed the mystery away as we entered the building.

  The hallway inside was blindingly white.

  White walls, white floor, golden accents that caught the light streaming through ceiling windows. It felt sterile—like a hospital, or a courthouse. The kind of place where important decisions got made.

  Decisions about me.

  My chest tightened. I tried to breathe normally.

  We passed through several corridors before arriving at a set of massive doors. They opened as Athushar approached, revealing the space beyond.

  The meeting hall.

  It was arranged like a university lecture theater—tiered seating rising up from a central floor, designed so everyone above could look down at whoever stood below. But instead of student desks, there were six enormous chairs positioned around the room's circumference. White frames, golden leaf motifs, clearly designed for beings of importance.

  And at the center, on the lowest level where a professor's podium would be—

  A single raised platform. Exposed. Nowhere to hide.

  That's where I'm going to stand.

  That's where they're going to judge me.

  ? The arrangement is clearly designed for evaluation. The elevated seating gives the Luminaries a psychological advantage. ?

  Thanks, AI. Very comforting.

  ? I am providing tactical analysis, not comfort. ?

  Same thing right now.

  I looked up at the ceiling. Seven distinct beams of sunlight streamed down through carefully positioned openings, each one angled toward a specific chair. Six of the beams hit occupied positions.

  The seventh hit empty space.

  There's definitely supposed to be a seventh chair.

  ? Confirmed. The architecture accounts for seven Luminaries, but only six are present. ?

  So what happened to the seventh?

  ? Unknown. Another mystery to file away. ?

  This place is full of those.

  "Yuuki," Athushar said. "Take your position at the podium. The Luminaries will arrive shortly. Do not speak until addressed."

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  "Got it."

  "I will be in my chair. Admiral will stand with the other attendants." Athushar paused. "Remember—honesty is expected. The Luminaries will sense deception."

  Great. So my whole amnesia thing is about to get tested.

  ? We should prepare truthful answers that do not directly contradict our established narrative. ?

  Easier said than done.

  I walked to the central podium, my footsteps echoing in the vast space. The robe swished around my ankles, crystals catching the fragmented light. I stepped onto the raised platform and turned to face the empty chairs.

  Here we go.

  Athushar drifted to the fifth chair on the right side. The moment the celestial settled into position, the sunbeam hit them directly—and Athushar began to glow.

  Not just their usual luminescence. This was different. Brighter. The blue light emanating from Athushar's form spread outward, tinting the surrounding area in shades of azure and sapphire.

  Holy shit.

  They literally illuminate the room.

  ? The sunlight appears to enhance celestial luminescence significantly. This may be why the Prism is held when all seven suns are at their peak. ?

  Makes sense. Maximum power.

  Another celestial entered.

  This one was violet—deep, rich purple that seemed to shift between blue and red depending on the angle. They moved with a different energy than Athushar—quicker, more alert. Their form had sharper edges.

  The Violet Luminary took the sixth chair, directly beside Athushar. Purple light bloomed outward as the sunbeam hit them, mixing with Athushar's blue to create gradients I didn't have names for.

  Both Luminaries acknowledged each other with slight nods. Their attendants—violet celestials, presumably offspring—took positions below.

  I wonder what the Violet Luminary is like. Athushar is calm and formal. Are they all like that?

  ? We will find out. ?

  More arrivals.

  The Yellow Luminary came next—bright, almost painfully so. Their form seemed less defined than the others, edges blurring like they contained too much energy to hold a stable shape. When the sunbeam hit them, golden light exploded outward like a small sun.

  Okay. Yellow is... intense.

  The Green Luminary followed—calmer, steadier, with a form that seemed denser and more grounded. Their light was the color of deep forests, spreading in slower waves that felt almost organic.

  Green seems more chill.

  The Orange Luminary was next—somewhere between yellow's intensity and a warmer, more contained energy. Their glow flickered like firelight, shifting between shades.

  Orange is... hard to read.

  And finally, the last Luminary entered.

  I felt them before I saw them.

  A pressure in the air. A weight that settled over the room. The other Luminaries' lights actually seemed to dim slightly—or maybe that was just my perception, overwhelmed by what came through the door.

  The Red Luminary was massive.

  Bigger than Athushar. Denser. More defined, with sharper angles and a form that looked almost solid compared to the others' fluid luminescence. Their color was deep crimson, dark enough to verge on black at the edges.

  When the sunbeam hit them, the red light that spread outward didn't feel like illumination.

  It felt like heat.

  Okay. Red is terrifying.

  ? The Red Luminary appears to be the most physically imposing of the six. ?

  You think?

  The Red Luminary took their chair—first position on the left, directly across from Violet. They didn't acknowledge the others. They just settled in, that crimson glow spreading across their section of the room.

  And then they looked at me.

  Those red circles—eyes, or whatever celestials used to see—fixed on me. Evaluating. Measuring.

  I forced myself not to look away.

  I'm not scared. I'm not scared. I'm not—

  Okay, I'm a little scared.

  ? Maintain composure. Showing fear may be interpreted as guilt or weakness. ?

  Easy for you to say. You don't have a body.

  Six Luminaries. Six colors of light. The beams mixed and overlapped, turning the hall into a living rainbow. It was beautiful—and overwhelming.

  I stood at the center of it all, feeling very small and very human.

  The doors opened one final time.

  An indigo celestial entered—the same one who had greeted us at the gate, or one who looked identical. They drifted to the center of the hall, positioning themselves between me and the assembled Luminaries.

  A herald?

  The celestial's voice rang out, resonating through the chamber with unexpected power.

  "As the seven suns shine at their peak, the Prism illuminates the six colors of Sphere."

  The Luminaries' glows intensified. The rainbow of light grew brighter, sharper, until I had to squint.

  "Let us begin the Gathering. Let us convene—the Prism."

  Okay.

  This is it.

  I straightened my spine. Adjusted my robe. Felt my heart pounding hard against my ribs.

  AI?

  ? Yes? ?

  I have no idea what they're going to ask me. I don't know what they want. I don't know what any of them are like except Athushar, and even that's barely.

  ? Correct. We are operating with minimal information. ?

  So what's the strategy?

  ? Answer honestly where possible. When honesty would contradict our established narrative, redirect or speak partial truths. Observe carefully. Adapt. ?

  That's not much of a strategy.

  ? It is the best we have. ?

  Great.

  The herald moved aside.

  Six Luminaries looked down at me from their glowing thrones.

  And the Prism began.