Arthur watched the situation unfold in silence. To be more specific, both he and Victor felt like mere spectators in a story being woven by invisible hands, pulling the strings of fate.
At least, thatâs how Arthur feltâlike a misplaced piece on a board he barely understood. In the end, trying to steer his own path seemed pointless when powerful, relentless forces insisted on intervening.
Lost in thought, Arthur was pulled back to reality by Victorâs voice beside him: âDo you have any idea what the hell is going on here?â he asked, his tone laced with confusion: âNone of this makes a damn bit of senseâ
Arthur glanced briefly at his reflection in a stone mirror nearby, then turned his gaze back to the massive flower before him. It was still glowing with an intense golden lightâso bright his eyes burned, as if the very act of looking at it too long might sear them.
Before the enormous bloom, the
reached out and gently touched its radiant surface. The first time she had done that, the petals at the top had slowly opened, revealing nothing but a blinding light from within, as though the essence of light itself had been imprisoned inside.
Even now, the
remained completely still, unmoving after touching the flower. And yet, Arthur couldnât shake the feeling that something was happeningâsomething unseen by either him or Victor.
It was just a hunch, with no solid evidence to back it up. He brought a hand to his chin and stroked it slowly, thoughts racing and colliding in his mind, all grasping for a way to make sense of the mystery in front of him.
âBy the way... donât you get the feeling weâre being watched right now?â Victor murmured, stepping closer and scanning the area warily.
Arthur raised an eyebrow and gave Victor a curious look. A moment later, Victorâs eyes locked on something slightly above them. Intrigued, Arthur followed his gaze and squinted, blinking as he made out a still silhouette perched on the rubble just a few meters away. The figure watched them in silence, wrapped in an eerie quiet.
âSometimes I seriously wonder why the hell we even bother with containment cells when the anomalies always end up escaping anywayâ Victor muttered, arms crossed, his eyes still fixed on the anomaly.
At Victorâs words, Arthur let out a dry, ironic smile, his eyes narrowing in a half-mocking squint: âHonestly? Instead of being surprised she escapedâ he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm: âIâd be impressed if you people could build a cell that could actually hold death itselfâ
With that, Arthur turned his attention once again to the towering flower. The golden glow pulsed, stronger nowâalmost like it was alive, as if it was about to awaken. The
continued to run her fingers gently along the petals with an odd sense of reverence, yet the flower remained still, unmoved by her touch.
No reaction. No sign. Arthurâs mind swirled in confusion, locked on a single unsettling thought: (What the hell is really going on here?)
Have you ever wondered what it feels like to realize youâre dreaming? I think every human being has asked themselves that at some point in life: âWhat would it be like to wake up inside a dream and control it?â Well, I think I can finally answer thatâbecause thatâs exactly whatâs happening to me right now.
Thatâs the conclusion I came to as I watched myselfâthough there were... many differences, if you can call them that. This place, this whole endless field stretching out around me like a silent sea of nothingness... itâs just a dream.
A dream playing out inside my mind. In other words, itâs a memoryâor at least, itâs supposed to be. Something Iâve already lived, somehow. The only problem is, I donât remember it. Not even for a second.
Maybe thatâs why Iâm having such a hard time making sense of it allâlike Iâm reliving a moment from my own life, but one that was carved into my memory without my permission. In the end, after saying a name, I just stood there, staring at myself.
My past selfâs eyes were fixed on the girl lying on the ground, and there was something nostalgic in that gaze. But it wasnât just nostalgiaâthere was tenderness, affection, a quiet sweetness that stood in stark contrast to the pain of the moment.
As I got lost in thought, staring at my own reflection, the figure on the ground began to stir... No, calling her a âgirlâ didnât feel right anymore. I knew her nameâand somehow, I felt compelled to use it. A name carries identity. It tells you who someone isânot what they are.
Althea slowly got to her feet, her movements hesitant, as though she were weighed down by something invisible. And even though she was completely naked, it was impossible to tell what was beneath her skin. It was like there was nothing thereâand yet, something. Something undefined. Almost... illusionary.
I couldnât say whether Althea was male or female. Maybe neither. Still, for some reason I couldnât quite explain, there was something in her presence, in her eyesâor maybe in her auraâthat made me instinctively refer to her as she.
Either way, as soon as Althea stood, she gently rubbed her still-closed eyes, like someone trying to shake off the last pieces of a dream. A moment later, she opened them slowly, looking straight at me â And for a brief second, I had no words.
Her eyes were such an intense shade of gold they seemed to glow on their own, as if they absorbed and reflected the light around them. And even in that space, flooded with a brightness so strong it bordered on blinding, Altheaâs eyes still stood outâshining so vividly they seemed to outshine everything else.
For a moment, I wondered if she could actually see me. With that question echoing in my mind, I said her name once more, my voice low and full of hope: âAlthea...â
Again, even though I was the one trying to speak, no sound left my mouth. It was as if air simply didnât exist around meâas if breathing had become impossible. Not that it made much of a difference, really. I donât even have lungs. Still, the voice was heard. The name was spoken clearly... but not by me. At least, not by who I am now. That voice belonged to my former self.
Althea flinched slightly at the sound, and with a gentle motion, she slowly turned around, her eyes briefly closing. The next moment, as she looked back and saw the past version of me, she simply leapt into his arms. There was something almost desperate about the way she moved. When her arms wrapped around the neck of my former self, a shiver ran down my skin.
Even though I wasnât the one being embraced, I could feel her warmth so vividlyâas if her arms were around me, as if that hug was meant for me. And in a way, it was. Technically, that is me... but at the same time, it isnât. Honestly? Itâs too strange a feeling to describe with words.
âZentharys... I missed you so, so much!â
Althea said those words as she held me tightly, gently nuzzling her face against mine. There was such a genuine smile on her lips that, before I even realized it, I was smiling too. When I noticed, I brought a hand to my faceâthe sensation was odd.
My expression still felt stuck, like before... but now it was frozen in a smile. Curiously, my past self-wore that same expressionâthough hers was softer, gentler, carrying a peace I still didnât fully understand.
To be honest, I was struggling to understand what was happening. That scene... did it mean I truly knew Althea? The feeling had always been there, but seeing it with my own eyes and experiencing it in the flesh were completely different things. In that moment, I began to seriously wonder if that memory was even mineâor if I was simply diving into someone elseâs recollection.
âIâm glad to see youâre doing well, Althea. Iâm sorry it took me so long to visitâ my other self-replied. But there was something off about his voiceâa slow, melancholic tone, like every word weighed more than it should.
Once again, it felt like I was the one speakingâas if I were truly the one talking to Althea. Strangely, the words came to me naturally, and I just spoke them, without thinking. And yet, as always, no sound ever escaped my lips. No whisper, no breath... only absolute silence.
Honestly, I felt frustrated that I couldnât express myself. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many questions that needed answers... but no right words would come out.
Even the things I did manage to say felt strange, as if each sentence had already been pre-recorded and was just playing back by reflex. They werenât my real words. And of course, Althea had no idea about the storm of emotions I was hiding behind the silence.
Seeming content with my words, Althea finally stopped rubbing her face against the image of my past self and turned her gaze toward me. For a brief moment, her eyes shimmered with hope.
Then, her voice came softly, full of longing: âYouâre going to stay with me longer this time, right?â
Her voice carried a childlike kind of hopeâthe kind a kid might have after waiting all year for a special toy. And yet, as her words reached me, a sudden sadness washed over me. It felt like the gravity in my heartâthough, ironically, I donât even have oneâhad simply vanished, letting it fall into freefall.
My past selfâs gaze stayed fixed on Althea, warm and tender, glowing with something deep... but also unbearably sad, like he already knew how this would end. The words that followed slipped from my mouth so naturally that even I was surprised.
âThat... thatâs all I want more than anything, Althea. But Iâm afraid it might not be possible. I truly wish I could spend more time with you... with you, with all the others... But I canât. Itâs about to happen againâ
As the words left my lips, I blinked, startledâeven though I was the one saying them, I had no idea what I was trying to tell her. It was like my mouth spoke on its own, guided by something I didnât understand.
The only thing I knew for sure was that seeing Altheaâs face so full of sorrow hurt me in a way I could barely stand. For a moment, I wondered if I was really doing the right thing.
Altheaâs eyes grew so full of sadness that, for a second, I thought I saw a single bright tear trail down her cheekâonly to evaporate before it could fall. I didnât know why, but that image left me completely shattered.
All I wanted at that moment was to hold her, wrap her in my arms, even if I didnât understand why. Then, her lips moved. I couldnât make out her expression, but I was sure she said something. And before I could react, darkness swallowed everything around me.
The environment had shifted so suddenly I barely had time to process it. Unlike the previous placeâwarm, welcoming, bathed in soft lightâthis one was dark, deep, and oppressively cold. It felt like a bottomless pit, where the deeper you fell, the farther the ground slipped away, as if space itself stretched endlessly.
The cold was piercing, cruel in a way that almost felt personal. If I had bones, theyâd be cracking from the frost, and my skin would be a brittle shell of ice, ready to shatter. For a brief second, I felt grateful I couldnât feel anything anymore. But that gratitude was foolishâand short-lived.
I didnât stop to consider what it really meantâthat numbness, that freezing void wrapped in shadows. Maybe there is something worse than pain: forgetting what it ever felt like to feel anything at all.